The shower afterwards was cool and bracing, but it hadn’t been enough to take Bel’s mind off Ellen’s kiss or the fact that it had been thoughts of Ellen that had sent her over the edge last night when she had sex with Dan.
She hadn’t been able to sleep afterwards, and when she finally did, long towards morning, she dreamed of Ellen. The dreams were super-heated, with visions of Bel nursing at Ellen’s lovely breasts while Ellen stroked and caressed between her swollen labia; of Ellen’s lovely mouth lapping and nipping and sucking its way down over Bel’s breasts and belly and right on into her pussy. In the morning, the need was so great that Bel had had to bring herself off while she was sitting on the toilet.
There had been no planned massage for the day, and she seldom came to the gym two days in a row, but she couldn’t resist. A little extra exercise was always a good thing, Bel convinced herself, and luckily Ellen had a light day and could fit her in.
Surely Ellen could figure out that it wasn’t a massage she really wanted. The problem was, Bel wasn’t actually sure what she did want. She didn’t want to cheat on her husband, and God knows there had been plenty of opportunities. She wasn’t unaware of the looks and the come-ons of other men. She knew she was an attractive woman, but she was also a faithful woman. Bored, but faithful. She figured if Dan could endure the boredom, so could she. And in truth she had never been tempted before Ellen’s kiss.
But somewhere last night in the tossing and turning and listening to Dan snore, before she tiptoed off to her own bedroom, the thought had come to her as clear as daylight: how could it actually be cheating if she were with another woman? There’d be no penetration, no testosterone, nothing for Dan to be jealous of really. In fact Dan, being a typical bloke, would probably really get off on the idea of two women going at it. And it wasn’t like she would actually fall in love with Ellen or anything like that. It was just sex. It wasn’t even real sex, right? It was two girls fooling around. It meant nothing really. Other than the fact that she might actually get some satisfaction that didn’t involve the same old, same old she endured with Dan a few times a month.
She would never look at another man. She took her marriage vows very seriously. It was just, well, their sex life was such a bore, and she was a sexual woman. She had needs, needs she had been perfectly happy to take care of with her growing collection of sex toys, but then Ellen had kissed her. OK, she had to admit she’d harboured secret thoughts about Ellen even before the kiss. She had thoughts of Ellen’s tight nipples popping out of the top of her vest, thoughts of Ellen’s lovely massaging hands moving right on down over her belly and in between her legs. She’d made herself come to those very thoughts more than once. But they were just fantasies. Everyone had fantasies. On the other hand, who would know better how a woman likes her breasts touched and her nipples fondled than another woman? Who would know better how a woman likes her clitoris stroked and the creamy valley deep between her labia fingered and probed than another woman? And who could possibly know what to do with her hands better than a massage therapist? Once the thought had planted itself in Bel’s brain, and between her legs, she couldn’t get rid of it.
So here she was shaking like a leaf, drying herself from the shower, but knowing even the thick Egyptian cotton of the towel wasn’t going to take care of the wet condition of her pussy. Ellen was waiting in the next room. Ellen would know what she wanted. Ellen would see it in her eyes. Ellen would smell her heat, and no amount of lingering in the shower could wash the smell of her lust away, not when she could barely stand up from the weight of her arousal.
With hands that were trembling, she tied the sash of the thin linen robe around her waist, checked her hair and took a deep breath.
She barely managed a soft rap on the door before Ellen opened it. ‘Isabel, sweetheart, are you all right?’ This time there was the proper distance and the kiss on each cheek. The massage table was spread with fresh linen, and everything seemed strangely normal, which made a cold knot tighten below Bel’s breastbone. Had their kiss meant nothing to Ellen? Had she been just a stupid, needy woman fantasising about what Ellen had already forgotten, making something out of nothing?
‘Goodness, you’re tense,’ Ellen said caressing Bell’s shoulder and offering her a concerned smile. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it possible after I gave you such a thorough going over yesterday.’
Such a thorough going over, indeed, Bel thought.
‘Bel, darling, is everything all right?’ she asked again.
Bel nodded dumbly and, for an uncomfortable second her chin quivered, and she thought she might cry.
Ellen lifted Bel’s chin and held her in a knowing gaze. ‘Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll take care of it. I’ll make you feel better.’ She nodded to the table, and offered a smile that was a whole lot more than just sympathetic.
Shaking like she’d come apart, Bel brazenly opened her sash and let the robe puddle on the floor around her feet, her gaze locked on Ellen’s lovely hazel eyes.
‘If you’re this tight all over, darling, perhaps we need to try a different approach today. Lie down on your back for me, if you would.’
Feeling every bit as naked as she was, Bel did as she was told.
Ellen slipped out of the white uniform jacket she wore, revealing the spaghetti-strapped pink vest that beautifully displayed her workout-sculpted arms and her usual lack of a bra. Then she did something that, in all the time Bel had been coming to her, she had never done before. She locked the door. Her fingers lingered on the lock for a second, then she turned and walked to the table. ‘Bel, you’re not actually here for a massage, are you?’
Before Bel could make up some lame excuse, Ellen lifted her vest over her head in one smooth, nearly elegant move that took Bel’s breath away. Actually, it was the sight of Ellen’s exquisite breasts, nipples pressing hard at the forefront, that took Bel’s breath away, made her for a split second unable to focus on what Ellen was saying. Something about it being OK.
‘I’ve wanted you for a long time, Bel,’ she was saying. ‘And I thought you wanted me too, but I wasn’t sure until I threw caution to the wind yesterday.’ She cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples. Bel’s nipples tensed in empathy, a response Ellen didn’t miss.
‘There are other ways I can make you feel good, Bel.’ She slid her yoga trousers and thong down over her thighs and stepped out of them. ‘There are ways that are even better than massage.’ She stood so close to the table that Bel could have reached out and touched her tightly trimmed pubic curls. It was all she could do to lie still on the table under the woman’s hungry gaze.
‘You need some relief, don’t you, darling? I can tell by the way you hold the tension in your body, all of it right down here.’ She laid a warm hand on Bell’s abdomen just millimetres above her pubis then pressed softly. Bel couldn’t help it; she shifted her hips to raise her mound closer, and Ellen smiled knowingly. ‘Oh, sweetheart, you’re so needy. We women tend to hold so much energy down here, down where our creative centre is.’ She slid a hand down to cup the smooth flesh of Bel’s mound and Bel nearly came off the table.
‘Ssh! Ssh. There, there, darling. I know what you need. Just let me make you feel better.’ For what seemed like a maddening eternity, Ellen pressed and stroked and massaged all the area below Bel’s navel. And Bel, well, she didn’t handle the situation with as much dignity and aplomb as she would have liked. She couldn’t seem to control the little whimpers and gasps that gathered deep in her chest right below her breasts then rose in little waves of longing up through her throat, while her hips tightened and shifted against the heel of Ellen’s palm, still just above her pubic bone.
‘There,
