Confession Time.... Continued

Confession time - there is a woman at my salon who I would consider going to bed with if she asked. She's at least ten years older than me, maybe late forties, but I get a great vibe from her and think she would be a great 'first timer'.
Sam is the woman who waxes my legs and recently when she did my bikini line I had all kinds of warm fuzzy thoughts about her (in between the actual waxing part of course!!) During the treatment, her hands were all over my legs, inner thighs and bikini line and... I liked it.
Anyway, this last time I had an appointment, Sam told me to take my clothes off and as usual she would wait outside. In the times we had met before, we had 'hit it off'. A thought popped into my head. She didn't have to leave; I would be okay with her watching me undress. In fact, I wanted her to watch me undress; which surprised me to say the least.
But she did leave; I stripped off my shoes, skirt, nylons and underwear and hopped up on to the massage table. When she came back into the room, she asked me to lie down. As she busied herself warming the wax and getting organized, all the while making small talk asking about the heat of the room, was I comfortable? etc. Music played quietly, a few scented candles gave the room a slightly spicy aroma, the overhead lights had been dimmed; the whole atmosphere was very relaxing, making it easy for my mind to drift. Done with her preparations, Sam ran her hands up and down my legs, looking for what waxing needed to be done. But I wasn't thinking about hair removal, I was thinking how nice her hands felt, cool and soft. Then she nudged my legs apart to look at my bikini line.
You know how some people can touch you in a professional capacity, even in places usually associated with pleasure but it feels clinical not at all sexual? Well this was different even though she acted in a solely professional manner it still felt good, it felt intimate. I wondered what I would do if she touched me any more privately than she was already. She didn't, she remained always thoroughly professional; regardless, anytime she touched my body felt like an intimate touch. I thought maybe if she did touch me sexually I wouldn't stop her. This is where my imagination takes over...the rest of this is fantasy.
So where was I? Oh yes, she has spread my legs to look at my bikini line…
In my imagination, Sam finishes waxing my legs and pours warm oil on my skin, massaging it in. I relax into the sensations of warmth and comfort. The whole environment is conducive to intimacy and I feel the rest of the world slip away until just she and I existed. After the leg massage, I know she will start the bikini wax. I find I am looking forward to her touching 'further up'. Once again she pushes my legs apart but this time she brushes her hand over my pubic bone. I hold my breath. I realize, I want her to touch me, but don't know what she is thinking or feeling or even how to bring it up, so I remain quiet.

“I’m going to lock the door,” she says crossing the room. I hear the click of the lock as she explains in a warm rich voice, “We don’t want anyone walking in on us do we?” I shake my head, unsure whether I am to read between the lines or not. So much of what has happened here tonight has been ambiguous. On the surface she has been nothing but business-like but my gut tells me there is something more going on. I decide to wait and see if I can discern any further clues before I say anything.
Sam returns to stand next to the table, but this time she puts her hand right at the top of my leg, mere centimeters away from my clitoris and I try not jump. Very aware of my lack of underwear, I feel myself starting to get wet. This could be very embarrassing if I have misjudged her intentions and she notices I am aroused by her touch.
However, if she notices, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she asks if I have ever had a Brazilian wax?
“No. To be honest I don’t know what one is exactly.”
She laughs softly. "It's a wax to remove the hair from here," she touches my pubic bone, "and here," she strokes her fingers along the folds of my vagina, "and here" she taps gently on the skin between my butt cheeks.
I think she has to have meant to touch me in such a sensual way. It couldn't have been an accident, right? But I just don't know so again I chose to play it safe and lie still. My body, however has reacted strongly, my heart rate has shot up, my skin is flushed and I am sure she can't help but notice just how wet I am now. Especially as she still has her hand between my legs. I have to fight the urge to squirm down the table so her hand comes into contact with my clitoris. But she takes her hand away before I can make the decision to do it.
She starts preparing the wax and her manner becomes a little more business like. I am thoroughly disappointed! But when she turns around she asks if I am going to have my armpits waxed too. I look at her puzzled. Do people do that? Again she laughs. "Let me see", she says, "take off your shirt". I sit up and start to unbutton my blouse.
Sam makes no move to leave this time. I make eye contact and hope she can see the clear invitation in my eyes as I'm still not sure enough to verbalize my thoughts. She watches me unbutton my blouse. Getting flustered, I slow down; my fingers don’t seem to be cooperating properly and I can't get the last button out.
"Let me", she says and steps up between my legs to help. Her hands are warm but my nipples tighten anyway. My mind is whirling with a million thoughts, all of which run along the lines of… Holy shit I want to have sex with this woman.
When she has popped the last button free her hands linger holding open my shirt. She is looking at my breasts and bites her lower lip. "Lie back down" she instructs. I willingly do as she asks. She puts my arm over my head and runs her hand down my arm but not my armpit; instead she traces the top of my bra. My breath catches in my throat. "Are you okay?" she asks. I nod. She bends down to kiss me on the mouth, her lips are very soft. It's a very gentle kiss, an exploring kiss, an erotic kiss. I feel her tongue brush my lips and open to her exploration. The kiss deepens. When she pulls away, I sit up.
All my doubts are gone. There is no question of my misinterpreting that kiss! I want to touch her so I pull her shirt up over her head revealing her lovely round breasts. We kiss again. I want to put my hands on her tits; to feel the weight of them. I realize, I'm mostly naked and kissing a woman, putting my hands on her is probably okay at this point! I cup her breasts in both hands, they are big and heavy as I imagined. I have no idea what she wants, so I do what I know I enjoy hoping she'll guide me if I get it wrong. I run my thumb over her nipple and feel it harden. It's thrilling. I slide her bra straps down her arms, pulling the cups of her bra down freeing her breasts. They are directly in front of my face so I follow my instinct and take her nipple into my mouth. It's the first time I have ever had another woman's nipple in my mouth. I like the feeling, I like her texture, her taste, I like the way she moans and arches her back. I roll her nipple on my tongue enjoying how it puckers on my tongue.
She asks me if I want her to take off the rest of her clothes. I nod. She strips for me, slowly. She is beautiful; soft and round and very sexy. She asks if I have ever done this before. I shake my head. "Are you nervous?" she asks. "Yes. But I don't want to stop." She smiles as she runs her hands up my inner thigh, when she touches my clit I suck in my breath. It feels so damn good. I am wet enough for her to slide two fingers into me without any trouble. My head falls back and I moan. She strokes the inside wall of my vagina with the tips of her fingers. I'm wildly turned on. I grip the edge of the massage table to steady myself.
Then she pulls her fingers away dropping down onto her knees, I can feel her hot breath between my legs. I must be very wet by now; I was so close to coming before she removed her fingers.
Realization dawns, I have a woman's head between my legs. I'm stunned but am loving it! I feel her tongue on me and my breath catches in my throat. I can barely breathe. She works her tongue over my clit and pushes it into me. The feeling of her tongue and mouth on my clitoris, the folds of my vagina, licking, sucking, stroking….It’s all just too good, I am drowning in sensation, I can’t think, I can’t breathe. Then she is gone.

When I open my eyes, she is standing in front of me again with a big smile on her face. “I want…” I stammer. I want to touch her, I want to taste her, I want to hear her come but I can’t communicate any of this. The ability to string words together into a coherent sentence has long since vanished.

Sam smiles again. “This is your first time and I’m going to take care of you. Next time you can return the favour.” She kisses me and I taste myself on her lips.

Next time? I hadn’t counted on there being a next time. Pleased I don’t have to cram all of my fantasies into this one night, I stop trying to argue. Besides, I am selfish enough to enjoy being ‘taken care of’ so I relax and enjoy her attention. She kisses me again, nipping my lower lip. I wrap my arms and legs around her pulling her in tight to me. Her breasts are pressed into mine, it’s incredibly erotic, soft flesh on soft flesh.

Our kissing is sweet and tender one minute and demanding the next. Her hands are on my face, my breasts, and my ass. I can’t keep track of them. Where ever they land feels so damn good, soon I quit trying to follow their progress over my body and surrender to the pleasure they bring.

When I feel as if I can’t possibly take any more teasing she starts to move purposefully down my body. I run one hand over her hair, gently guiding her to my inner thigh but even though I’m expecting it, waiting for it, wanting it, when I feel her lips on my clitoris I’m instantly lost. Reaching for something, anything, to anchor me I grasp the head rest of the massage table.


This time she slides two fingers deep into me as she plays with me with her lips and tongue. Almost instantly I feel my orgasm start to build. Her tongue and lips and fingers work magic, driving me wild, pushing me closer and closer. Even as I reach the peak, she still pushes me so that when my orgasm breaks it’s a huge wave of pleasure pulsing through me. I try so hard not to cry out but I can’t contain it.

Later, when I have dressed and am paying my bill, Sam slips a card into my hand. “This is my home address and phone number. Call me next week if you want to get together again.” I smile, pocketing her number. I have every intention of calling. Next time I want to hear her come too.