A Massage for Deanna

The room, I decided, was nice. It was ready.

I'd lit the fat-bellied table lamps in the corners of the living room, even though the early summer sun had a good few hours left to run across the western sky. Its rays warmed the room, lit it with a beautiful gold --- but our evening might be long, and allowing my attention to wander from Deanna for even a short time to turn lamps on was not what I wanted. This evening my attention was for her, exclusively, obsessively.

The coffee table I'd moved to the side of the room, the sofa I'd pushed back. I'd spread the thick white mock-fur rugs to fill the resulting wide space in front of the fire, covering them with the largest, softest, whitest bath-sheet I could find. The effect was that of a tethered cloud, a soft, white platform for pampering - which, indeed, was exactly what it was.

Deanna had had a bit of a rubbish week --- school, friends, sister --- and had burst into tears when I picked her up. I hugged her, kissed her, brought her to the house, fed her and packed her off to the bath for a soak while I prepared the living room to help her unwind from her week. Warmth, light, a tethered cloud, an array of softly scented oils and my undivided attention. Deanna deserved the best sensual massage I could provide.

I heard the bathroom door click across the living space and I looked up. A cloud of steam heralded the arrival of a big, pink teddy bear, fluffy and slightly flushed. Deanna of course, in her favourite Hello Kitty dressing gown, looking much better for her bath. She padded past the dining table towards me, a small, rather shy smile on her soft round face. I'd said I'd prepare a nice surprise for her to make up for week, but I hadn't told her what. I /had/ told her not to get dressed again, which had won me a raised eyebrow and a little grin.

The early evening sun suffused her rich, dark hair with lustre of deep red-gold, surrounding her head with a delicate halo. I watched her, enthralled as ever by her soft, warm beauty. She'd let her hair hang free after her bath, and the damp strands played around her lovely face. Hers was truly still a baby face, with rounded cheeks and big, soft eyes, a face to make any man fall instantly in love with her. She was so beautiful. I smiled across at her.

"Feel better, honey?" I asked. She smiled back, nodding, her eyes taking in the rugs and towels and array of small bottles. I answered her unspoken question: "Have you ever had a massage, honey?" She shook her head, smiling. "Well," I said, "let's see what we can do about that."

I stepped up to her, lightly took her shoulders and kissed her gently on her pale, warm lips. She kissed back delicately and for a moment we held ourselves suspended, our lips touching-not-quite-touching, until with a smile of mutual understanding we parted slowly. She untied the thick pink cord of her dressing gown, and I turned her round gently, helping the soft cotton towelling slip from her shoulders. Her skin was softly golden in the room's light, smooth, fine, flawless.

I held the dressing gown as she shrugged it down, revealing the elegant curves of her back, one or two drops of water still nestling in the soft canyon of her spine, her smooth flanks, barely a hint yet of hips. She stepped forward, letting the garment slide from her arms, and I let my gaze linger on the perfect roundness of her bottom - a Platonic ideal of how a girl's bottom should be, all beautiful curves and soft skin. Only the little mole low down on her right buttock disturbed the perfect symmetry, and that only added to her beauty.

"Lie down on your tummy, sweetie," I murmured, folding her dressing gown and placing it on the sofa. "Make yourself comfy."

Deanna knelt carefully on the captive cloud of towelling and pretend fur, then lay down with a soft sound of contentment. She pointed her toes and stretched her arms and fingers. Her buttocks clenched as she snuggled herself into the fluffy whiteness. "Mmmm," she murmured, "that's nice." She snuggled one cheek down and looked up at me with one eye. I smiled back, reaching for a small bottle of massage oil.

The towel was big, and Deanna, at only eight years old of course, fitted easily onto it, even stretched out as she was. I rubbed my hands together slowly, warming up the oil, my eyes travelling the glorious landscape of Deanna's young body. She was nothing but soft, golden curves everywhere, from her shoulder-blades to her heels and the dainty pink pads of her beautiful little feet. Gorgeous, I thought, utterly gorgeous, and the stirring deep inside me echoed my thoughts.

Slowly I reached towards her, my hands trembling at the thought of touching her glorious skin. With a deep, shuddering, but I hoped slient, sigh I placed my hands on her shoulders and began to rub gently. A soft, light sound escaped her and her eyes closed as I circled my fingers, beginning to ease her stresses away with my touch.

I massaged her shoulders and upper arms, using mostly my finger-tips with the occasional full hand. Her skin was warm and baby-smooth over a child's softness. I marvelled at the feel of her beneath my fingers, the smooth and yielding textures of a little girl's body. My erection pushed the front of my jeans, requiring me to shift position a little. Deanna made a little sound as I moved, a little churr of awareness.

I drew my hands closer together, massaging now between her shoulder blades and across her upper back, circling up the gentle valley of her spine and round and back, my fingers playing across her ribs and soft flanks; each time I thrilled to the change from the harder ribs to the softness of her waist and hips. My fingers dwelt longer and longer on her waist and hips as I slowly worked down her back, following the long, graceful curve of her spine from its point of perfection just above her bottom.

Deanna's body felt even lovelier than I'd expected. To touch her in this gentle, sensuous, sensual way was more amazing than I'd possibly imagined. She was golden, radiant, soft, smooth, perfect. I churned inside, a strange, heady, wonderful mix of adoration and deep desire. Deep, deep, heavy desire.

My attention drifted lower, a tremor creeping into my fingers as they lingered at the tops of her buttocks. I circled from her hips down and around and back across the fabulous softness of her buttocks, pressing gently, thrilling to the feel of her luscious little bottom. Fighting my desires, I concentrated, massaging gently, further down across her buttocks to the tops of her silken thighs, parted ever so slightly, ever such a little.

Back up, over the fabulous curves of her bottom, pressing the soft flesh, drinking in every dimple and dip as my fingers travelled her magical landscape, curving in to the glorious valley between her buttocks, circling back out to the narrow, girlish hips. Down again, caressing her bottom, feeling a tiny tremble run through her body in response. Again and again I stroked and massaged her, drinking in the sight of that fantastic little bottom glowing in the golden sunlight.

I paused, my hands cupping the lower curves of her buttocks. Gorgeous. I dipped lower, pressed gently against the tops of her thighs. She moved her legs apart without hesitation. My hands circled slowly around her thighs, from outer to inner and back, while my gaze fixed intently on the point where they met. Soft, pale, smooth, the perfect lips of her little pussy peeked up from the graceful curves of her bottom. The most beautiful sight, Deanna's perfect little pussy framed between her lightly oiled thighs, reflections of the low sun glistening across her fabulous bottom. My erection throbbed.

I nudged her thighs gently. She shifted on the towel, raising her bottom a little, then a little more, wriggling slightly to lift her softly glowing bottom into the air. I nudged her thighs again, and she opened them a little more, pushed her bottom up a little more, knowing, knowing what I wanted to see, wanting to show me what I wanted to see.

Her pussy was now plain to see, a beautiful, simple mound of soft pale flesh divided by a single neat cleft --- no hair, no dangling labia, just a perfect symmetry of little-girl glory. Her cleft faded smoothly into the lower reaches of her butt-crack, the clean pink saddle of her perineum merging into the dark pink skin that pointed the way clear and straight to her pale brown anus --- this glorious vista lit by the deep golden light of the sinking sun.

I have many memories in life, but none so clear as that sight of Deanna's fabulous young bottom raised, naked, glowing, inviting. None so clear, or so sweet.

My hands trembled as I picked up the oil bottle. With infinite care I held the bottle above Deanna's upraised bottom and dripped a gentle rain onto the graceful curving path between her buttocks. A small sound escaped her lips, a little mew, a soft sound of anticipation. I watch, hypnotised, as the tiny river of oil ran down between her buttocks, pausing, pooling at her little brown anus before setting off again in a slow track to the lip of her pussy cleft.

With a single, shaking finger I touch her bottom at the point the oil had dripped, and slowly traced its path. The shaking increased as I rested on her anus, pressing gently. She mewed again, her hips quivering. I traced on down, down, slowly down to finish with my finger poised at the base of her pussy cleft, wedged ever so slightly in the small, perfect dip. I waited a long, thundering heartbeat, then traced the lips of her little pussy round to the hood of her tiny clit.

"Mmmm... mhhhhh." Her sounds were muffled by the soft towelling.

My hands steadying, I traced again, a single-finger massage from the top of her butt-crack to the tip of her clit. Again, with a developing rhythym, pausing at her anus to tease, pressing a little deeper each time I followed her pussy cleft.

My teasing got bolder, the tip of my finger wriggling into her glistening little anus, pressing between her pussy lips, circling her little clit. Each time, a little stronger, a little deeper until my finger was sliding joint-deep into her ass, ploughing deep in her sweet furrow and tormenting her tiny, hard little clitty with fierce circles. Her thighs trembled, her bottom shook as I massaged her.

I had to be closer to her. She was an angel, and I could no longer prevent myself showing her the depth of my desire for her. My hand fumbled my jeans open, down, freeing my aching cock, wet and oozing with its own, very personal, massage oils. I threw the jeans aside, then moved carefully to kneel between Deanna's open thighs, her bottom glowing softly, girlishly feminine in front of my hard, angry maleness.

Holding my painfully hard cock I traced with it the same path my finger had followed, down between her buttocks, pressing the tip against her anus, feeling her push back as I pushed forward, down between her legs to rub firmly up against her fabulously, unbelivably soft, slippery pussy lips. Oh God she was perfect. Perfect little girl, let me touch you like this. Feel what you do to me, Deanna. Feel my heat, my hardness against your softness.

I held her buttock with my left hand, my cock with my right, and pressed and pushed my cockhead against her oil-wet anus. We were gloriously slippery, her anus winking and puckering and letting the tip of my cock in, the tip, and a little more, the tip and almost half my cockhead, buried in her gorgeous little butt.

I squashed against her pussy lips, rubbing my cock between them, reaching round to press her clitty with my cockhead, her pussy lips spread either side of my aching shaft, both of us slippery with massage oil and our own, sweet juices.

For six, seven glorious minutes I play-fucked Deanna around her bottom, around her pussy. Six or seven glorious minutes before I could hold back no more. I gave a great cry, she gave a soft, muffled yell as I came, hard fierce spurts of cum dashing, splashing against her bottom, splattering her anus, her pussy, again and again and again...

It seemed forever until the tension unwound and I released the vice- grip from my cock, forcibly relaxed my shoulders, and sank slowly to the softness of the towel. Deanna had subsided, trembling, her head on her arms, her eyes closed in her beautiful round little face. I reached out, put my arm around her soft body and hugged her. I kissed her cheek. She opened her eyes and smiled.

I smiled back. She was gorgeous.

"You are gorgeous, Deanna," I breathed, "my perfect little princess."

The last of the sunlight winked out behind the hill. The room glowed softly with lamplight alone. I stretched the aching muscles of my back and stroked Deanna's beautiful shoulder.

"Let's go take a shower, hon. I think we both need one. Then we can snuggle up. I love these long, summer evenings, don't you?"