Night Dreams: The Massage
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2012 by L.W. Mitchell

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - John pulls a muscle in his lower back at work. His friend recommends therapeutic massage..but when John gets to the massage therapists studio, the massage turns into much much more.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Doctor/Nurse   Big Breasts  

Climbing down out of my Silverado, I winced and grabbed my lower back. I had pulled something earlier in the day at work. Sighing, I reminded myself I wasnt as young as I used to be, and that I needed to stop bulling. I had picked up one end of a ten foot piece of four inch I-beam, tossed it onto the back of a flat bed, and then walked around, bent over and picked up the other end and shoved it on the truck. I had done this in frustration because the young turds I was supervising were whining "it was too heavy. Cant we wait for the fork truck?" I glared at the two, and said,

"We dont always have time to wait for the fork truck, when I tell you two to get something done, that is what I expect. Next time I will send you packing back to the temp agency job center. You got it?"

They hung their heads, looking at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes. One nodded, the other muttered "Yes sir."

"Now, you boys get the entire site picked up. I want all construction debris gathered, with all wood products seperated from the sheetrock and paper ... ok?" You've got about an hour left before quitting time, should be plenty of time for two young strapping men like yourselves. Once you have that done, come find me so I can do a inspection."

They scooted out of my sight and I chuckled. I was young and dumb once too I reminded myself.

Anyway, I had pulled something in my back when I manhandled the I-beam to impress the two young temps, I'm glad the OSHA rep wasnt around, or he would have written me up. So, I was not so young and dumb.

So now, I hobbled the first few steps across the parking lot of the supermarket that I had stopped at on my way home from work. I needed some food supplies. After a few ginger steps the back loosened up and I was able to walk normally with just a twinge every so often. I'd get over it.

I walked into the large portico that housed the shopping carts and grabbed on, walked through the automatic sliding glass doors into the produce department. I took a right turn, pushing my cart towards the mushrooms and almost ran my cart into an outstanding backside. The backside was adorned in white capris, which really highlighted the rich chocolate creamy skin of the lady's calves, were tight enough to show very well defined and lithe legs. She was wearing a fuschia top that was form fitting and detailed a narrow waist and long nicely shaped back and shoulders. Her shoulders were covered in luxurient wavy dark hair, and on her feet were simple moc's. I managed to stop the cart before hitting her, and somehow managed not to ogle ... well, I ogled a little, but I dont think she noticed. She was looking over the selection of mushrooms too, selected some white button shrooms, while I sidled up besider her, grabbed a couple of portabello's and smiled. Her eyes flickered over me for an instant, and she smiled back.

I noticed she was not wearing a ring on her left hand. I also noticed that she had beautiful high cheekbones, dark oval shaped eyes, pouty lips, a narrow uptilted nose that featured a smattering of freckles, and incredibly white teeth. She was absolutely beautiful.

I dropped the plastic bag containing the two portabello's, catching her eye once again, I raised an eyebrow and smiled, and headed for the onions. I grabbed a couple of red onions, a 4-5 count bag of shallots, and a couple of garlic cloves. Circling around to the leafy greens, I snagged a plastic bin of baby spinach and felt eyes on me, looking up I just caught her looking away, her cheeks flushing slightly, like she knew she had been caught. Hmmm ... shy?, I wondered. Then I told myself,

"John, get a grip, WHY would she be looking at you? This woman is WAY out of your league son, just do your shopping and stop thinking that you are James Bond ... irresistable to any woman."

But, dammit ... she WAS looking.

Sighing, I turned and headed for the condiment aisle. Turning the corner to head up the aisle, I noticed she was coming down the aisle from the other end, stopping at the BBQ sauce selection, studying the different brands and flavors, evidently enraptured by all the choices. Then SHE looked up and caught ME gazing at her, and dammit, I did the same thing ... I quickly looked away.

Jesus, what a smooth move John.

Feeling like a high school boy who has just got caught peeking around the divider in the gymnasium at the girls gym class, I pretended to study a few labels in the pickeled artichoke selection. I mean PLEASE, who th' fuck even liked these things? Finally looking up, I saw her walking by me pushing her cart with a smug little smile on her face, and I watched her as she continued down the aisle.

Did I notice a decernable twitch to that magnificent ass?

Then she stopped. She bent over to take something from the bottom shelf ... it was yellow, so a squeeze bottle of mustard, I figured ... but I wasnt really paying attention to the product in her hands. She was displaying that incredible ass, and I couldnt stop myself from staring, and taking a deep breath ... I think I caught myself before I let out a low whistle.

My goodness!

Turning my cart, I headed the other way as quickly as possible. I mean Jesus! I was going to drive myself insane. I skipped a couple of aisles, figuring I wouldnt run directly into her again, to let my heartbeat and my imagination simmer down. I sauntered through the frozen foods, grabbing a bag of seasoned fries, a few prepared frozen boxes of oriental rice, and some cream cheese stuffed jalpenos. Then, it was time to head to the meet... , oops, I mean ... meat section. I looked over the offerings, checking to see what was on sale this week. Chicken thighs, bone in, skins on, 99 cents a pound. Awesome on the grill, I grabbed a five pound package. Porterhouse, $6.99/lb, grabbed one thick cut. Ground turkey, 95 % fat free, $3.99/lb, took one. Baby beef liver, $6.99/lb., fuck that. I was looking over the baby back ribs, when I glanced up and saw her selecting a package of hamburger. I tried a crooked smile and watched her ... she felt it, looked up, wiggled her eyebrows and smiled as she set the package in her cart and sauntered on by to check out the sausage.

Ok ... yes I know, that was gratuitous, but she WAS checking out the sausage!

So, anyway ... I moved into the dogfood section, then realized, I dont have a fucking dog...

C'mon John, focus!

I decided, I wanted sushi, so I turned around and headed back to the meant and seafood section. She was gone, but the sushi was on full display. I selected a package of California roll, and a "tuna dragon" with lots of wasabi and soy sauce. Finally, I decided enough with the fun little dance, time to get the chips, cheese, butter, eggs, and pre packaged thing of smoked ham and blow this clambake. I wanted a beer and I wanted to eat.

Arriving at the check out counter, I looked them over, trying to decern the line that would get me through the quickest, already resigned to knowing I'd choose the one where the computer would blow up, or the lady in front of me decided there were "Just a couple of things I forgot ... please excuse me sir."

As I was unloading my cart onto the check out rolling counter, I once again felt eyes, looked up, and saw her checking out at the next line. She didnt look away this time, just smiled, turned to her task and unloaded her cart. I unloaded the rest of my stuff, waiting for the lady in front of me to take two fucking hours to write out a check.

I mean!, have you ever heard of a debit card lady???...

She was through the line, paid, groceries bagged and in her cart, before the clerk scanned my first item, but she did glance over her shoulder at me, giving me an impish smile, and what I believed to be, a pronounced sway of her ass as she walked towards the exit and the parking lot. Promising God everything I would never be able to live up to, I was hoping to get through the line in time to catch her in the parking lot, but it wasnt to be. I shook my head as I loaded the bags into my truck and told myself I really needed to get a life ... maybe a girlfriend would help too.

All of a sudden, my back started throbbing again.

Figures...

Wincing, I climbed into the truck and headed out of the parking lot towards home. Every pothole or culvert heave I hit in the road, I could feel my back twinge and tighten up. This wasnt good. I needed to do something about this ... I had to much work to complete and a brutal schedule to complete it in. I got to thinking about my friend Tom. Tom had told me a couple of days ago about having a massage. He said the massage was one of the most incredible things he has ever done for himself.

"I'm telling you John, you coulda poured me into a dixie cup when she was done. It is amazing, you really should try it. Remember, ol' boy, we aint as bullet-proof as we used to be. Jesus H, John, we both gonna be 40 this year!"

Thanks for that Tom, you asshole ... but I got thinking about that massage on the drive home, and then I hit another pothole and felt the twinge in my back. I reached up to see if the business card with the name and number to the massage therapist Tom had used, was still there, where I stuck it when he gave it to me a a day earlier.

It was.

I read the card as I drove. It featued a faceless person lying on a table with a set of hands on his/her back. The caption read, "Loving hands to offer you relaxing and theraputic massage", then, "Call Lisa Williams to schedule your massage today" ... then the usual ... hours of operation, the address, the website, the fax number, the phone, the cell ... Christ, business cards had everything on them today, except bra size ... I looked, it wasnt there ... So, I grabbed my cell, and called the number. I got a voice mail, left a short message, stating I would be interested in the services provided, and left my name and number. "What the hell," I thought, "Maybe Tom is right ... maybe a massage will loosen up this back."

A rubdown would feel great in any event, and I hadnt treated myself to one in some time. I decided that I was looking forward to it.

I took a right towards the lake and my driveway at "Deer Run Drive", and pulled into the driveway. Just as I was getting out of the truck, with my hands loaded down with the bags of groceries, the phone started chiming ... of course ... with my hands full. Cursing, I set the bags I the front seat, punched the button and said,

"Yeah, this is John."

"John Koris?, this is Lisa Williams, you left me a voice mail regarding scheduling a massage."

The voice was rich, with an alto timber.

"Yes, Ms Williams, thank you for returning my call so promptly. I work in construction, and recently I have been having lower back pain. You were recommended to me by a co-worker. I thought perhaps a massage treatment would be just what I needed to loosen things up."

"Absolutely Mr. Koris, massage can be very beneficial to over worked muscles and otherwise is so very healthy for the human body. I would be happy to have you come for a session. Now, the first session usually runs a little longer as I need to sit with you and get some background information ... nothing too specific, unless ther has been trauma or injury, but just some idea of what you do, how your body is now, compared to how you think you should feel. This should take no more than 20 minutes or so, then we can move to the massage, which can be schedule for either 30, 60 or 90 minutes, depending on how much work you feel you need, ok?"

I thought about this, and decided, first time, lets go with an hour,

"What is the rate for a 60 minute massage Ms Williams?"

To set you up in our computer base, get the info I need, and to administer the massage for an hour would be $100, but going forward, and hour would be $70, and a 90 minute session would be $90."

"Ok, that sounds teriffic Ms Willaims, when can I schedule an appointment?"

"What works better for you" ... morning, afternoon... ?"

"Since I work, later in the day would be better ... tha way I dont have to lose as much work time."

"How about 4:00 pm next Tuesday, Mr Koris?

I gave this some thought, then responded,

"That works for me Ms. Williams, I can leave work a half hour early, no problem. I have your address here on the business card, and I will plan to be there at that time. Is there anything else I need to bring?"

"Not really, Mr. Koris, just have a general description of your medical history, including any prescriptions you currently take, and please no caffeine or alcohol prior to the appointment."

We confirmed all needed information and I hung up looking forward to this massage. Hey, why not treat myself, I deserved it.

I carried my groceries inside and looked forward to my weekend, already returning my thoughts to the goddess in the supermarket, day-dreaming about us together and how wonderfully erotic it would be...

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