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From: "Sam Cornell" <cornell525@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Turning the Tables Part 2 (FF) by Sam Cornell
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Date: Wed, 24 Jan 2007 16:10:02 -0500
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Turning the Tables Part 2

FF

by Sam Cornell

I lift myself weakly up on my elbows from my recumbent position, and looking 
down between my splayed legs I see Ellie standing submissively at the bottom 
of the massage couch. Ellie. My new lover. Formerly my masseuse, nineteen, 
hot, and just a few minutes ago her skilful hands were straying to places 
most of us can only dream of when we're on the couch. Now as I look at her I 
can see that her face is still honey-slick from lapping me to a beautiful 
orgasm.

Normally I am slow to recover, like a volcano that has erupted with such 
power that only a little flame still burns in the core. Normally.

But then sometimes the circumstance and the experience combine alchemically 
and my orgasm simply transports me to another place, and I am transformed 
into an almost wholly sexual being, every whim and desire transfigured into 
an all-consuming need. Alchemy is dangerous. People get burned.

My eyes rest on Ellie. She is so sweet, five foot something with her 
chocolate-brown hair tied neatly back in a professional ponytail.

"Come here," I say softly, and she pads around to the side of the couch. 
"Thank you."

"My pleasure, miss," she says.

I reach my hand out lazily, to stroke behind her knee and then up, under the 
hem of her skirt. How many times have I lain here under the expert attention 
of a skilful masseuse and dreamed of reaching out like this? Even when they 
haven't been as hot as Ellie - and in truth none of them have - the 
combination of skin on skin and the way any massage steers teasingly close 
to intimate contact has always made the possibility of something more come 
into my mind.

"You're a bad girl, Ellie." My hand strays further up the back of her thigh.

"Yes, miss."

"But oh so good, too." I pause just where I would begin to feel her bottom.

"Thank you, miss."

"Seems only fair I should return the compliment, one way or another." I give 
Ellie's buttock the briefest of brushes over the cotton of her panties. 
"Would you like that, Ellie?"

"Yes, miss. Thank you, miss."

"Why don't you show me those lovely boobs of yours?" I ask softly, my hand 
lightly cupping her ass cheek.

Ellie fiddles with the buttons of her top. She is nervous, clearly, and it 
occurs to me that maybe I am her first woman. It would be indelicate to ask 
about this now, I realise, but it is another intoxicating element to the 
cocktail.

She slides the top off and stands before me in her bra, a fetching white 
lace number that is more decorative than I was expecting for someone who has 
a relatively physical job. Below the full curves of her breasts Ellie's 
stomach is flat and lightly tanned.

"Take off your bra," I say. "I want to see your beautiful breasts, Ellie." 
She fumbles with the catch for what seems ages, and once again I get the 
thrill of believing that her nerves are down to inexperience. She even 
mutters a little apology before she has done it, but then her breasts are 
free and exposed.

She is beautiful. Something of the fullness, the creaminess, the proud 
pertness of Ellie's still-teenage breasts takes my breath away.

"God you're beautiful," I say, and reach my hand up, scarcely able to 
believe that Ellie is offering me her breasts to see, let alone touch. She 
stands there, awaiting my caress, and as I brush my fingers across the 
smooth milky skin she closes her eyes and I wonder how many times she has 
fantasized about being touched by another woman.

I gently move my fingers across the fullness of her breasts, repeatedly 
teasing over her nipples, feeling them engorge and fill under my touch. 
Ellie's eyes are still closed as she stands there bare-chested, luxuriating 
in my caresses.

While still fondling her breasts - how could I stop? - I slide a hand back 
under her skirt to softly squeeze her buttocks through her panties. It 
occurs to me that for both of us, by maintaining the basic positions of a 
massage - me lying on the couch, Ellie standing beside me - we are 
fulfilling the same fantasy, but each from our own perspective.

Perhaps it was by this couch, as Ellie's hands ranged skilfully across the 
soft bodies of her female clients, that she had slowly discovered an erotic 
interest in her own sex. How many times had she stood here, her fingers 
straying dangerously close to a client's most intimate areas, and dreamed of 
keeping on going? And had she longed to feel the touch of a client in just 
the way I was touching her now? I imagined Ellie, perhaps still learning the 
art of massage, her emotions in turmoil as she feels the moisture flooding 
into her panties in such an unprofessional way. And lying in her bed at 
night, her fingers busy between her legs as she tortures herself with wicked 
thoughts.

I massage Ellie's breasts and bum for a while, and her still-closed eyes 
give an impression of quiet rapture. I move my hand around from her bottom 
to the inside of her thigh, and I can see now that she is anticipating the 
ultimate contact.

"Take your skirt off," I say. Ellie's eyes open, she smiles, and with none 
of her earlier hesitation or awkwardness her skirt drops to the floor. My 
young masseuse is now naked but for a pair of pure white cotton panties.

I continue to tease around her thighs for a little while but I know that she 
is hungry for proper contact. I brush across her mound, and feel the spring 
of a thin strip of pubic hair beneath the material. Ellie's eyes are closed 
again now as she gives in to my gentle attention.

I always like to talk, and I consider asking Ellie what she wants now, but 
as I look at her face I can see that she is lost in the delicious reality of 
what up until now has only been fantasy.

I slide my fingers across her panties again, further down this time, and the 
material is soaked through with her honey. I see Ellie smile and I know that 
I was right, she has been wet like this so many times before, but now her 
wicked secret is quite deliciously exposed.

I brush across her panties just a couple more times but my need is great too 
and I can tease no more. I slip my fingers inside Ellie's panties and feel 
the swollen wetness of her pussy lips. She moans, and trembles a little. My 
finger runs lightly up and down her slit, and she rocks a little in rhythm 
with me. I am keeping a respectful little distance from her clit, wanting 
that to be the final moment of blissful discovery for her.

My finger teases just a little further inside her pussy, but I am not really 
interested in penetration. There will, I believe, be so much time for that, 
but for now all I want is to bring this young woman to the most delicate 
orgasm of her life.

I picture how the two of us must look. It is the sweetest perversion of a 
massage imaginable. I am naked, my nipples bared and stiff with excitement, 
my legs splayed, my cunt wantonly exposed. Beside me my young masseuse is 
virtually naked, her full breasts swaying softly to the tune I am playing 
between her legs, my fingers interfering rudely under the cotton of her 
panties.

It is time.

Still gently caressing Ellie's breasts, and with my fingers teasing the 
entrance to her cunt, I slip my thumb up to her clit. She shudders and 
groans, the little spot which so often has given her pleasure with her own 
hands finally receiving the exquisite touch of another woman. My thumb 
traces gently round and around, and Ellie's breathing gets higher and 
tighter.

I look at her young face, and her expression is almost enough to make me cum 
myself. Even as she approaches her climax she is smiling, utterly fulfilled 
in the manner that her secret desires have finally been made real.

I circle and I tease and I fuck Ellie's sweet cunt with my fingertips and it 
is all too much for her and she starts thrusting herself down on my hand as 
she explodes in her orgasm, wave after wave pushing her down and down on my 
eager searching fingers.

As I finally slow my touching she is resting half-buckled against the side 
of the couch, her breasts close to my face, her chest flushed from her cum 
and her nipples raw from the explosion that has charged through her body.

She rests like that for some moments, utterly satisfied it seems. Then 
slowly she stands upright again. "Thank you, miss."

She looks so sweet, and vulnerable, standing there in her white panties. My 
thoughts are both tender, and base.

"Ellie, at your school did you wear a uniform?"

The End, for now

If you like this, e-mail me: cornell525@hotmail.com

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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