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THE MASSEUSE AT FILM FESTIVAL

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He was exhausted. It was a grueling schedule of press conferences and workshops at the film festival. He had signed on for 5 days to promote his latest movie.
I knew he would be wanting room service and his cozy hotel bed more than a night of kinky sex but
I also knew that he could not sleep properly without his nightly massage.
His muscles cramped up so he could not sleep in the bed, only on the couch. With his back pressed to the couch back he could rest but not get good sleep. My services as a massage therapist had been secured for the 5 nights. I had acted the total professional for the first 3 nights but I was going to be the woman who had carnal knowlege of the unobtainable one. It would be tricky not to scare him off with so many women and men after him. I had to proceed carefully. Slowly. Gently. On day one two and three I had massaged him with a skill I did not know I had.
On day four I arrived at his suite at the appointed time. He opened the door looking the picture of drop dead handsome fatigue. He was wearing the hotel robe. While I set up the table and got out my oils and candles he collapsed on the couch.
I went to the couch and he seemed to have fallen asleep slouched down into the pillows, his robe was coming undone. The scent of the aroma therapy candles was filling the area. I sat next to him on the couch and he did not stir. I leaned in and kissed the eyebrow scar and he still made no movement. I then kissed the scar over his lip and tilted his head to move my lips to the neck scar and he allowed that too. The robe was falling off his shoulder and I lightly brushed my lips over the road rash scars breathing him in. He let out a sigh and that was as good as a green light for me. I opened the robe and licked down the belly scar not ignoring the indentation I imagined was a result of the surgery he had after the bike accident all those years ago.
I nuzzled the base of his hardening dick and began a warm wet licking around his balls, just happy to be there, when I felt his hand gripping me by the hair on the back of my head, guiding me onto him. I was moaning more than he was and I had the impression that this was not an unusual position for him to be in. It was all bliss for me, even when he held my head to go deeper. He came pulsing and pumping into my mouth and when I looked up all I saw in his eyes was gratitude and exhaustion.
He stood up from the couch and climbed onto my massage table. I was just starting to oil him up when he lifted his head and looked at me with that smile and said "That was a happy beginning, not a happy ending"