| Iris Bear with me, as I try to write down what transpired between Susan and me one day after choir practice... She moaned in pain, clutching her back with her hand. "Enjoy being young, sweetie," she jokingly lectured me. "I could probably rub those knots out for you if you want," I said. She nodded. "OK." I pushed aside her hair, which fell long and straight to her shoulders, a color between red and blond that she referred to as caramel blond. Her back felt fragile in my hands. Her delicate shoulders showed her age in a way her sparkling eyes and gorgeous face never did. I tenderly gave her back a tactile examination with my fingertips, scoping out the knots and tight spots in her muscles that were causing her pain. Accomplishing that, I then worked to relax her body, stroking and caressing her gently with no goal other than to give her pleasure and get her to loosen up her body for me, so that I could better unwind the tightness in her back. "OK, I want you to breathe deeply. Close your eyes if it helps. Focus on my hands. You might feel pressure, but if you feel pain, let me know. I don't want to hurt you," I purred, calming her with my voice as well as my touch. She nodded again, more slowly as she began to surrender her body to the sensation of my fingertips raining down her back like a stream eases its way over a rock. I stroked the back of her neck and jaw line, searching for the "hot spots" every woman has. A soft moan from deep in her throat let me know precisely where she needed to be touched. Her muscles shuddered involuntarily at the slightest touch to the trail across her beautiful face from her earlobe down her jawbone to her neck. With my other hand I built a rhythm, matching the steady moans she emitted. Her body went limp in my hands as I moved them gradually to her shoulders and began to rub. In spite of her moaning and the complete surrender of all her muscles, I asked, "Does this feel good?" She tried to nod, barely able to move her head. I dug my palms into her back, kneading the tender flesh in my hands. Her muscles relaxed even more as I used my thumbs to work through the tight spots. I kept my right hand always on her back, and allowed my left hand to wander, to caress her face and neck and run through her soft, silky hair. When I had unwound her muscles completely, I was pained at the idea of stopping anytime soon. I started to slow down, rubbing with less and less intensity until finally I was just stroking her back, working my way up to her shoulders, her neck, her precious face, and as my fingertips ran through her hair, I felt her returning to reality from her almost-entranced state. "How does that feel?" I asked, repositioning her so that I was holding her against my chest with my heart beating into my cheek. She lifted a hand and laid it on my shoulder. "Amazing," she whispered. "Good," I said, marveling at how precious her tender breathing was. So sweet and trusting, surrendering herself completely to a child a third of her age. Her body was flaccid in my arms. My fingers ran through her hair, down the sensitive places on her face and neck, trying to prepare her for what I wanted to do next. To be continued... |