Bob was a financial analyst for a large downtown bank. He had been having a lot of back and neck trouble lately, and one of his colleagues had recommended he get a rubdown to reduce the tension. His friend even gave Bob a card for a massage therapist he had used.

Bob didn't think much of having someone pounding on his back, but his pain wasn't getting any better, so he finally called the therapist, whose name was Dorothy, and made an appointment to go to her office. She had a small office in one of the towers. Bob watched the street traffic through the window until the receptionist called his name.

He was directed into a changing room, where he hung up his business clothes, stripped down to undershorts and put on the hospital-type smock that was lying over a chair. He opened the door in the back of the changing area, and entered a surprisingly well designed office. There was a large working desk with a computer and phone and a comfortable leather high-back chair dominating one corner of the office, while the massage table stood off on the other side, a large padded and hinged affair with a metal cabinet beside it.

Dorothy (he reminded himself of her name) rose from her desk as he walked in and crossed to shake his hand. She was a smallish woman in a white starched blouse, with dark eyes and brown hair in a pageboy cut. She came up only to Bob's forehead, but her muscular arms added to a commanding presence. "You won't be using those shorts," she informed him, pointing at his groin, "they get in the way."

She pointedly turned his back and Bob uncomfortably pulled his shorts off from under the smock. She had him lie down on the massage table, opened the back of the smock and flipped a towel over Bob's ass, relieving his embarrassment. For the next few minutes she probed, squeezed and manipulated every muscle he knew of from the base of his spine to his neck, and several he hadn't known existed. During the procedure, she poured some hot oil into her palms and used it in the massage.

Bob started to relax - he was beginning to see why his friend had recommended the massage.

Dorothy worked on his spine and gradually broadened her range to include his ass and the tops of his legs. Bob relaxed as the warmth spread through his skin and body. He opened his eyes in surprise when some of the hot oil dripped down between his ass cheeks, then gasped as something was quickly popped into his ass. "What the..." he began, but Dorothy silenced him with a curt "It's part of the treatment. Don't argue."

She rolled him over onto his back, and his cock rose unbidden, not just from the feeling of the butt plug in his ass. While he had been face down Dorothy had removed her blouse and bra. She was nude from the waist up, showing firm large tanned tits with wide areolae and long nipples that begged to be sucked. She used those tits now, drenching them in the hot oil and wrapping them around his foot, massaging his legs. Her hair tickled his balls when she was near the top of each leg. She moved around the table and leaned over his head from behind, swabbing his cheeks against her tits. He stuck out his tongue to catch a taste of her, and she didn't tell him to stop.

She moved back to his legs, tugging them apart and using her hands on the inner muscles.

She had him bend his legs, knees in the air as she probed and prodded his flesh. His cock lay heavy and turgid on his stomach during all of this, jerking occasionally as she pressed on a particularly poignant spot. It came back to full erection (and Bob nearly jumped off the bench) when she stuck her tongue out and made contact just below his balls.