Gentle Hands
By CanadianTease
(c) February 2007


Anita was up early.  She didn't have to be at work until 
late afternoon, but she wanted to get some shopping done 
downtown.  By getting an early start she wouldn't have to 
rush, and could take her time browsing and just generally 
relaxing.

She was dressed very casually in jeans and a modest jersey.  
She could change later for work with the clothes she had 
packed into her shoulder bag.  It wasn't much, and she had 
decided she didn't need to lug her large carry-all along 
today.

She went to the window and looked out.  The day was bright 
and sunny, and she spread the curtains wide and opened the 
window to let in the fresh air.  The fountain in the 
courtyard below sparkled in the early sun, and patrons were 
sipping coffee and reading their morning papers at the 
outdoor tables of the Café au Coin.  Madame Fleury, the 
owner of the café, was chatting with her customers as she 
passed among them with carafes of coffee and hot milk.  She 
was a pleasant woman of about forty, energetic and 
outgoing, and she bustled from table to table, efficient 
but never missing the opportunity to flirt with men who 
appreciated her buxom figure.  She was also Anita's 
landlady, who owned with her husband the trio of two-story 
apartment buildings that surrounded the courtyard.  It was 
a quaint, old-world arrangement of buildings, forming a 
horseshoe around the cobblestone courtyard with its garden 
and central fountain.  The café was at the corner of the 
courtyard and the street it opened out onto.  Anita liked 
Thérèse Fleury, and she liked living in this neighborhood.  
It was more French than the rest of the city, and although 
a bit inconvenient to downtown, it possessed a sensual 
charm and unhurried approach to life that appealed to 
Anita.

Below in the courtyard a boy was riding his bicycle in a 
circle around the fountain.  Anita recognized Pierre, 
Madame Fleury's young son, who lived with his parents in 
the apartment directly across the courtyard from Anita.  
Anita looked at him for a moment, then turned and went to 
her closet.  She took from it a strapless yellow sundress 
with a pattern of small blue flowers, which she laid on her 
bed while she removed her jeans and jersey, stuffing them 
into her shoulder bag.  She removed her brassiere and put 
on the dress, then, after examining herself briefly in the 
full-length mirror on her closet door, she left the 
apartment and headed down to the café.

Emerging from the apartment building entrance at the back 
of the courtyard, she walked toward Pierre, who was 
standing straddling his bicycle next to the fountain.

"Good morning, Pierre!" she said brightly as she walked to 
him, flashing a brilliant smile.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Anita," he replied, smiling shyly as 
she walked past him.  When she had taken a few steps toward 
the street she stopped and half turned, raising her hands 
to shade her eyes as she gazed at the sky.

"What a beautiful day!" she exclaimed.  The morning sun was 
still low in the sky, and its light was shining directly 
into the courtyard.  Anita was between Pierre and the sun, 
and her tousled blond hair shone like an aura of molten 
gold around her pretty face.  The light was streaming 
through the thin dress, illuminating her in profile.  With 
her arms lifted her breasts were clearly discernable in 
silhouette, large, firm globes that curved upward to 
delicate nipples pressing against the front of the dress.  
The illuminating sunlight revealed that she wasn't wearing 
anything under the dress, except for tight panties that 
clung low on her hips.  Their decoration of small pink 
hearts was faintly visible.

She turned to look at the boy, her hands still lifted and 
shielding her eyes.  "Aren't you enjoying this sun, Pierre, 
after all the rain we've had?  I just love it - don't you?"

It took him a moment to respond.  "O-oui, Mademoiselle," he 
murmured, lifting his eyes to her face.  He was blushing 
furiously.

"Well, time for breakfast," she said, turning back towards 
the café.  "Have a wonderful day, Pierre!" she called over 
her shoulder as she walked away from him.  His eyes 
followed her as she left him, graceful hips swaying slowly 
from side to side with her easy gait.  Her panties, 
clinging tightly to her firm derrière, made a small 
triangle where the sun shone through between her thighs at 
the top of long, shapely legs.

Most of the morning crowd had left when Anita sat down at a 
small table.  Madam Fleury arrived almost immediately with 
the café au lait and croissant that Anita always ordered.

"Bonjour, Anita!" she said, sitting down at the table.  "It 
is early for you, no?"

"Hi, Thérèse," said Anita.  "Yeah, I'm going downtown to do 
a little shopping this morning.  It's such a nice day, I'll 
enjoy walking around."  She crossed her legs and took a 
nibble of the croissant.

Thérèse leaned to the side and peered around the table at 
Anita.  "Oo la la, with a dress like that I think that 
maybe you will have a lot of attention when you walk," she 
said, wrinkling her nose and grinning playfully.  "The men 
love such dresses."

Anita laughed.  "Well, that's OK with me.  They can look 
all they want."

"Oui, as long as they only look!" said Thérèse.  "You be 
careful where you walk, chérie.  You must take care, n'est-
ce pas?"

Anita looked down at her legs, which because of the 
shortness of her dress were exposed almost to the top of 
her thighs.  She noticed out of the corner of her eye that 
Pierre was still watching her as he stood with his bicycle 
in the courtyard.

"Oh yes, I'm careful," she said.  "But I'm not terribly 
worried.  Most men are like little boys - they just like to 
play with you and with their toys."

Thérèse threw her head back and laughed long and loud.  "Ah 
oui, c'est vrai!" she cried.  "So true - my Daniel, he is 
never so happy as when he is playing with my toys!"  She 
looked down at her ample breasts and squeezed them, lifting 
them high as she laughed.  "... except when I am playing with 
his!"

Anita almost choked on her coffee.  It was a long time 
before the women stopped giggling.

"Speaking of your husband," Anita said finally, "where is 
he?  I almost never see him."

"Eh bien, he is traveling, always traveling on business.  
It is not only you who never sees him."  Thérèse looked off 
into the distance.

"I'm sorry," said Anita.  "It must be lonely for you."

"Ah, oui," said Thérèse, "it is sometimes - but one finds 
other ... entertainments."

"Entertainments?" Anita asked.

Thérèse looked wryly at her.  "How does one say in English?  
"Pas des questions, pas des mensonges...?"

"Ah," said Anita.  "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no 
lies."

"Exacte!" exclaimed Thérèse.  "The world has many toys."

Anita smiled.  "Speaking of little boys," she said, "your 
Pierre is a delightful child, so polite."

Thérèse beamed.  "Ah yes, he is my treasure.  But he grows 
up so quickly, I wish he would remain my bébé."

"How old is he?" Anita asked, sipping her coffee.

"Twelve - oh, mais non!  He has a birthday next week - he 
will be thirteen."

"Really!  He's becoming a little man," Anita said.

"Yes," replied Thérèse, lowering her voice, "and in more 
ways than one.  I learn from the laundry that he is 
discovering new things about himself - tu comprends?"

"Oh yes, I understand!" said Anita.  "But that's only 
natural, and healthy."

"Oh oui, d'accord!" said Thérèse quickly, "I agree, I am 
glad he has learned to please himself, to know a man's 
pleasure."

"And I imagine he's starting to get interested in the girls 
at school now," Anita said.

Thérèse smiled.  "Oh yes, but you must know, chérie, that 
he has a big, how do you say, a big crush on you, too!"  
She lowered her voice - "I hope it does not make you 
uncomfortable to know this?"

Anita laughed.  "Oh, that's so sweet!  No, of course I'm 
not uncomfortable about that.  Besides, I knew it already - 
little boys or big boys can't hide secrets like that from 
naughty girls like us!"

Thérèse nodded and grinned.  "Ah, mon chér Pierre!  He is 
very smart, you know.  He is going to be a scientist, I 
think, he is so interested in things out there" - she waved 
her hand at the sky - "les étoiles, the stars, 
l'astronomie.  He reads books, and he is always looking 
from his window up at the moon.  I don't know where he gets 
his wise head, not from me, certainement!  But my Daniel, 
he is smart, too."

Anita listened with interest.

"But you too are smart, Anita," Thérèse went on, "studying 
at the university, learning to be a - a psychic.  You have 
been there for many years, no?"

"A psychologist," corrected Anita, smiling.  "Yes, I'm in 
graduate school now, and it does seem that I've been there 
forever."

"Your classes begin again soon, n'est-ce pas?  The summer 
is almost over."

"Yes, I'll be leaving my summer job soon, after I visit my 
family in the country this weekend."

"Ah oui, ah oui.  Tell me Anita, your summer job? - you 
never told me what you do."

Anita looked down into her coffee cup as she drained it, 
then stood up.  She regarded Thérèse with a playful smile.

"'Ask me no questions...'" she said, her voice trailing off.  
Thérèse looked at her blankly for a moment, then burst into 
laughter once again.

"Ah oui, touché, touché," she said with a sigh.  "We are 
both Mesdames Mystérieuses, eh?"

They embraced and kissed cheeks.  "Yes," said Anita softly, 
"mysterious ladies indeed."  Taking up her shoulder bag she 
started up the street towards the bus stop.  Walking toward 
the boulevard she became aware of Pierre, who was tagging 
along with her on his bicycle.

"Mademoiselle, is it true what my Maman, says, that you are 
going to school?" he asked.

"Yes, Pierre," she said.  "I study at the University."

"Do - do you like to go to school, even now when you're a, 
a grown-up?"

She grinned at him.  "I do, yes," she said.  "It's fun 
learning new things - don't you enjoy school?  Your mother 
tells me you're very smart."

He made a face.  "I don't like it so much - it's OK, I 
guess."  He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "When you 
go back to school, will you go away, and not live near us 
anymore?"  They had reached the boulevard, and the bus was 
just pulling up.  Anita smiled at him and reached over to 
brush a lock of his wind-blown hair from his brow.

"No, I'm not going to move," she said.  "I like living 
across the courtyard from you and your mother.  I expect 
that you'll be seeing a lot more of me."

He beamed as she began to ascend the steps into the bus.

"I'm glad you're not going away," he said.

She turned and smiled as she waved good-bye to him over her 
shoulder.  He watched her as she climbed the steps in her 
short sundress until the door closed and the bus pulled 
away from the curb.  Then he slowly pedaled back home.

* * * * *

Gentle Hands owed its great success to location, location, 
location.  It was set in a small side street just around 
the corner from Sex d'Argent, one of the city's most 
notorious strip-clubs, known for its extraordinarily 
beautiful girls and their seductive dances.  Patrons who 
left the Sex d'Argent after hours of being excited and 
teased by those girls were often led by their unsatisfied 
lust around the corner, where Gentle Hands awaited them to 
relieve their frustrations, or to excite them further.

For Gentle Hands was a massage parlor, and for men who had 
just been driven to near madness by sexual tease, its 
allure was irresistible.  Here they were assured that their 
tormented erections would receive tender loving care.  The 
two establishments complemented each other nicely - men out 
for a night of striptease were often happy to find by 
chance a place around the corner where girls were waiting 
to please them, while other men used Sex d'Argent solely to 
become aroused and primed for a visit to Gentle Hands.

Anita had been working here during her summer break from 
university.  She had started as a dancer at Sex d'Argent, 
and so had developed deep insights into the erotic 
obsessions of men, especially the sexually frustrated men 
who frequented the club.  François, who owned both Sex 
d'Argent and Gentle Hands, was quick to recognize her 
talents, and offered her an open-ended job at the massage 
parlor - she had a room permanently reserved to her, and 
was free to work according to her own schedule as she saw 
fit.  He was rewarded with a growing clientele of men who 
became addicted to her - they came ever more frequently to 
the club, and then to Gentle Hands afterwards, with a 
growing sexual hunger that tormented them but was never 
satisfied.  Sex d'Argent and Gentle Hands had them, quite 
literally, coming and going.

Anita never permitted these men to have intercourse with 
her, although she would often lead them on in thinking they 
might.  Her job was to create needs and desires for what 
was always held just out of reach.  They received exquisite 
pleasures from her hands, and sometimes her lips and tongue 
- but always done in such a way that it somehow increased 
their need for more.  Even after explosive orgasms, when 
they were at home in bed alone or with their sleeping 
wives, they would soon be experiencing that insistent 
nagging between their legs, a need for more of the 
tantalizing tease Anita had subjected them to.

After spending the morning and better part of the afternoon 
shopping, Anita arrived at Gentle Hands in late afternoon.  
Most of the activity at Sex d'Argent and the parlor took 
place at night, of course, but those who sought out Anita 
would often arrive shortly after they left work.  In all 
likelihood they would have been thinking about her all day 
as they fondled themselves under their desks, living for 
the moment when they could hurry to Gentle Hands to find 
her, or, failing in this, go into Sex d'Argent to work up 
their excitement to fever pitch before trying once again to 
get time with her.  Actually, Anita purposely did not stick 
to any fixed schedule - she preferred to keep her customers 
off-balance and frequently disappointed.  This added to the 
urgency of the unsatisfied lust they experienced when they 
watched the stripteases and to the intensity of their 
orgasms under her gentle touch if they were ever lucky 
enough to get time with her - or of their frustration if 
she decided she was in the mood to deny them.

Entering through a backdoor, she walked down the corridor 
of rooms where most of the girls worked and let Erica, the 
busty receptionist, know that she was in and would be ready 
for clients in five minutes.  Then she climbed the narrow 
staircase that led to her suite of two rooms.  She thought 
about leaving on the sundress she had been wearing all day, 
since it had drawn a considerable amount of attention from 
the horny teenagers and dirty old men who hung around at 
the underground mall where she had gone shopping.  But she 
decided instead to change into a more "professional" outfit 
- pulling her hair back into an efficient ponytail, she put 
on a white nurse's smock that extended down her thighs 
about a third of the way to her knees, and white stockings 
held up by a white garter belt.  Because of the shortness 
of her skirt the tops of her stockings were exposed, and 
the top four buttons of the smock were open.  She wore no 
brassiere, so her ample cleavage beckoned enticingly.

The room Anita used to entertain her customers was not at 
all sterile, as is often the case in such establishments.  
Aside from the professional massage table in the center, it 
was warm and intimate.  The lighting was indirect, from a 
pair of floor lamps, and several oriental throw rugs were 
scattered about the wooden floor.  There was a table and a 
couch against one wall, and on the opposite side of the 
room two comfortable chairs were arranged for easy 
conversation, with a small coffee table between them.  
Anita always offered her guests a glass of wine as they 
chatted, especially at the start of a first visit.  This 
relaxed them, and gave her a chance to get to know them and 
what they needed from her.  It didn't take her long to 
understand a man's sexual desires, and what his erotic 
triggers were.  She was very good at reading body language, 
and between the lines of conversation.

After about ten minutes a chime rang indicating that Erica 
was sending a customer up, a new client.  He would have 
already paid the base rate for a straight massage to Erica 
- for any "extras" he would have to tip Anita directly.  
She went into the back room to wait for him.  This was 
always part of her routine: she wanted a man to sit in her 
cozy room waiting for her, letting his anticipation build.  
Then, when she greeted him, she wanted him to be seated - 
he would be forced to look up at her, at her voluptuous 
body and provocative outfit; at the same time, her position 
above him would subtly underscore the fact that she was the 
one in control.

When she heard the man enter the other room, she called to 
him to sit down, that she'd be with him in a moment.  After 
about two minutes she went in to greet him.  He started to 
rise, but she told him not to get up and went over to 
introduce herself.  Smiling brightly, she leaned over to 
pour wine for the two of them, giving him an enticing view 
between her breasts in the process, then sat down to chat.  
He was Will, she learned - or that at least was the name he 
gave.  He appeared to be about forty, of average build and 
height, dressed in a business suit, though without his tie 
- and was distinctly nervous to be there talking with her.  
But she managed to put him at his ease, smiling warmly at 
him, and encouraging him to relax and sip his wine.  She 
pretended to drink along with him, but in fact took very 
little.  Finally she addressed business.

"So, Will, have you just been next door?" she asked, 
running a fingertip around the lip of her wineglass.  He 
glanced at her briefly, then looked down somewhat guiltily, 
blushing slightly.

"Uh, yeah, I was there for a little while," he stammered.  
"I saw a card on the table for - here."  There were cards 
advertising Gentle Hands on each table in Sex d'Argent.

"So now you need a little relaxation, right?" Anita said 
brightly, putting her glass down on the coffee table.  "A 
nice massage to work out the kinks after a long day at 
work?"

"Uh, yes, that would be real nice," he said a little 
uncertainly.  He was obviously inexperienced in what to 
expect.

"Good," she said, standing up.  "I'm going into the other 
room to get my oils - while I'm gone you can get undressed, 
and then lie down on the table.  You can cover yourself up, 
if you like," she said, indicating a towel that was lying 
on the table.

She went next door, returning in about a minute with a 
bottle of scented oil.  Will had undressed as instructed, 
and was lying face down on the table, with the towel 
covering the lower part of this body.

"OK, she said briskly, "let's see what we can do about 
those tight muscles."  Starting at his shoulders, she began 
to work his neck muscles and deltoids with strong, deft 
hands.  Anita was actually a skilled massage therapist, 
having taken courses in the art, and her customers were 
often surprised at how relaxing and pleasurable sessions 
with her were, even without the "extras" - although it was 
those extras that kept them coming back, time after time.

After thoroughly working Will's back and arms, down the 
backs of his legs from his buttocks (still covered) down 
his thighs and calves to his feet, she had him turn over 
and worked on his pectorals.  Finally, she went to the foot 
of the table and kneaded the balls of his feet and each of 
his toes.  When she had finished with this, she laid her 
hands gently on his shins and slowly moved up the front of 
his legs.  She noticed that the towel had started to lift 
slightly over his groin, although she had not spent any 
time in that area.  Her hands continued to move upwards, 
finally coming to rest at the top of his thighs, with her 
fingertips extending a fraction of an inch under the towel.

"There," she said, "all done.  Did you enjoy that?"  Her 
hands remained resting on his legs.

"Oh, yes," he replied.  "That felt really nice."

Anita moistened her lips and looked into his eyes.  "Is 
there anything else you'd like me to do for you," she asked 
softly.  Her full lips were parted slightly, and her 
fingertips remained just under the towel, idly moving from 
side to side.

His pulse began to quicken.  "Yes," he stammered, "I - yes, 
please..."

Anita smiled seductively down at him, and began to pull the 
towel lower, very slowly, pulling the soft fabric down 
along the bulge in his groin that was now tenting upwards.

"Let's have a look at this, shall we?" she said, pulling 
the towel aside to reveal his straining erection.  His 
penis was of average size, but was lengthening steadily and 
already projecting upward at a forty-five degree angle.  
She studied it for a moment, noting the light pink color of 
its swollen head, and the somewhat darker shade of the 
shaft.  It was circumcised and strongly veined, and was 
visibly throbbing as it continued to grow under her gaze: 
each beat of his heart caused it to bob slightly, moving up 
and down a fraction of an inch, tremulous.  His scrotum was 
slightly wrinkled, enclosing two large testicles, but was 
becoming smoother as it tightened with his mounting 
excitement.  The pubic hair was fine and light brown, and 
covered his scrotum and the base of his penis, forming a 
feathery circle from which his smooth, hardening phallus 
emerged.  The glans was now thoroughly engorged and 
glistening.

She pursed her lips into an "O" and frowned, while she ran 
her fingertips gently up along his inner thighs.

"Oh my!" she said, looking up and down the length of his 
erection.  "Those girls next door really teased you, didn't 
they?  They've gotten you so excited!  I'll bet they made 
you want to fuck them real bad, didn't they?  Those nasty 
girls!  Getting your cock so excited and hard when you 
couldn't do anything about it - so frustrating..."  Her hand 
was now gently fondling his testicles.  "Is that why you've 
come to me?" she asked softly.  "Would you like me to 
continue where they left off?"  A single finger traced a 
tantalizing line up the underside of his stiff penis.  "Do 
you like it when a girl teases your cock?"

"Y-yes ... ohhhh."  Will was breathing harder now, almost 
panting, and his heart was starting to race.  He wanted her 
to touch him so badly.

"This will cost you more, you know," she said gently, with 
a little pout.  Her finger continued to move along his 
shaft, light as a feather.  "If you're good to me, I'll be 
very good to you..."

He swallowed and licked his dry lips.  "Yes, I know," he 
said, looking towards the chair where his pants lay folded.  
Anita smiled and went over to the chair and retrieved his 
wallet from his pants.  Reaching into it she withdrew a 
fifty dollar bill; she paused then took out a second fifty.  
She looked over to him and raised her eyebrows in a 
question - he swallowed again, and nodded.  Placing the two 
fifties on the coffee table, Anita smiled and moved slowly 
back to him.  Her hands reached up to loosen the ponytail, 
and her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders.  She undid 
another button on her smock, so that her breasts were now 
almost completely exposed.  

 "Thank you," she said.  "Now I want to show you how 
grateful I am..."

Placing her hand under Will's quivering penis, she cradled 
it gently in her palm while the single finger resumed its 
exploration of the underside of the rigid shaft.

"Ohhh, you need this so much, don't you?" she purred.  "You 
need someone to be nice to your big hard cock, someone to 
touch you - like this..."  Fingertips enclosed his shaft and 
lightly drew up over the head, making tantalizingly brief 
contact with his most sensitive areas.  He moaned loudly 
and raised his hips in a vain attempt to prolong contact 
with her hand.

Anita smiled at his obvious need.  She intended to make it 
much worse.

Reaching down between his legs she slowly drew her fingers 
up to his scrotum, gently scratching in slow circles all 
around his testicles.  While she manipulated his balls with 
four fingertips, her thumb reached up and lightly flicked 
the cleft below the head from side to side.  She moved her 
hand slowly up and down, the pads of her fingers pleasuring 
several of his most sensitive areas simultaneously.  
Continuing to tease his balls with her fingernails, she 
brought her other hand into play, delicately feathering the 
underside of his erection along its entire length, very 
lightly, at a maddeningly slow pace.  She kept her touch 
light, just enough to tease him along and make him 
desperately need more.  His urgent whimpering told her she 
was succeeding in that.

"Mmmmm, we're going to have such a nice time together," she 
whispered.  "Does this feel good?  Do you like what I'm 
doing to your big, warm cock?  I love how it feels in my 
hands, and I love doing this to you - I'm going to give you 
so much pleasure, and it's going to last for a long, long 
time.  But first, we have to make you really need it..."

What followed was an hour of erotic torment that drove him 
nearly mad.  Anita's special talent was to probe and test a 
man's genitals to determine his most sensitive areas of 
pleasure, and then to single-mindedly harry and worry him 
in those places, but in such a tantalizing way that it was 
always just short of what he needed for release.  With her 
hands, and her lips and tongue, she coaxed and toyed and 
teased, never giving his enflamed cock a moment's respite.  
Her tongue flicked lightly and incessantly in rapid little 
licks on his sweet pleasure spots, taunting him, showing 
him she knew just where he was most vulnerable, showing him 
that she could, if she chose, send him into a delirious 
orgasm with just a single swirl of her tongue - which, of 
course, she never did.  Whenever she sensed that he was 
reaching the helpless point of no return she would stop 
abruptly, and watch dispassionately as his hips bucked and 
he groaned in dismay at the sudden removal of pleasure.  
She would pout and coo sympathetically at his frustration, 
while she gently and soothingly caressed him, inches from 
his throbbing penis.  Then, when his erection had almost 
completely subsided, the maddening cycle would begin again 
- cock-teasing to the very brink of orgasm, then cruel 
withdrawal, repeated over and over again.  She held him in 
an agony of sexual frustration, deaf to his pleading and 
whimpering.  She was relentless and totally without mercy.

It was very satisfying to Anita to use the need for 
pleasure to make men suffer like this.  She found it 
fascinating that something as exquisite as sexual pleasure 
could be used to cause such agonizing distress.  She didn't 
dislike these men; she just enjoyed teasing and tormenting 
them, it was as simple as that.  It was true that she 
thought about these men and how they reacted to what she 
did to them in the context of her psychological studies at 
school, the courses she'd taken on physical and emotional 
dependence, in particular.  But her interest in psychology 
was not what caused her to take such enjoyment in 
manipulating men's sexual desires; if anything, it was the 
other way around.  She had always enjoyed using her 
sexuality to get men excited and to tease them - what was 
it about men, some men at any rate, that led them to crave 
this, and even pay money to have it done to them?  That was 
something worth studying, she felt; and who knows? - maybe 
she'd learn something that she could use to increase their 
sexual need still more, something that might drive them 
closer to erotic madness.  She knew that these men came to 
her because they craved what she did to them - but if she 
could make them truly addicted, and unable to do without 
her, that would be even better.  Better for business, of 
course, but also better because the distress and agony 
caused by her little games of tease and denial would be 
more excruciatingly intense.  And that excited her.

After nearly an hour of exquisite sexual tease, Anita 
decided that is was time to finish him off, not because she 
wanted to have mercy on him, but because his time was up.  
She reached for the bottle of massage oil and poured a 
small pool of it into the palm of her right hand, then 
rubbed her hands together to make them both slippery.  
Will's cock was by now deep purple in color, and painfully 
engorged and rigid.  Anita grasped it in her left hand and 
drew slowly down from the head to the base in one squeezing 
stroke.  Holding it immobile and stretched taut, she placed 
the palm of her right hand flat against the glistening 
bulbous head and began to rub her palm in circles all over 
the sensitive surface of the glans.  The almost unbearable 
intensity of sensation that this produced caused Will to 
curl his toes and shiver.  When he was at the point of 
crying out in real distress, her hand slid down from the 
head to grasp the shaft just below.  She held it still for 
a moment, allowing him relief from the over-stimulation she 
had just inflicted on him.  Then slowly, very slowly, she 
began to twist her hand back and forth, rotating her grasp 
on his penis just below the head, simultaneously massaging 
the area of sweet pleasure below the cleft, and the rim of 
the glans she had just been torturing.  That torment had 
been deliberate, for it had enflamed every nerve in his 
genitals, and his entire body was now raging in response to 
the motion of her hand, every stroke and twist driving his 
throbbing cock mad with mounting pleasure, as she slowly 
and irresistibly masturbated him to an explosive climax.  
He cried out and writhed in ecstasy and relief as his 
swollen prick erupted in huge ejaculations that sent his 
sperm shooting three feet into the air.  As the penis 
bucked and spurted, Anita pumped and stroked it with both 
hands, lavishing on it the voluptuous erotic pleasure it 
had been denied for the past hour.  His semen flowed 
copiously down his cock and over her hands, and she used it 
as additional lubrication while she skillfully milked him, 
timing her squeezes and strokes to match the rhythm of his 
spasms.  When his exhausted penis had finally completed its 
throes, and his cries had subsided into soft whimpers, 
Anita gently cleaned him with a soft cloth she had readied 
for the purpose.  She smiled to herself as she tended to 
him; this, she knew, would be a repeat customer.
 
* * * * *

It was about eleven o'clock when Anita arrived home that 
night.  The deserted courtyard was quiet as she crossed 
through it to the entrance to her building.  Light shone 
from a single window in the façade across from her 
apartment - the Fleurys were still up, evidently.

When she entered her apartment she tossed her shoulder bag 
onto a chair to be dealt with in the morning.  Tonight she 
just wanted to shower and go to bed.  She stood in front of 
her mirror for a half a minute, appraising the sundress 
that she had put on again before leaving Gentle Hands.  
Perhaps I should wear this at work sometime, she thought.  
Fresh, virginal - that might strike a chord with her 
clientele.  Maybe, we'll see.

Looking to the side she noticed that the curtains on the 
window facing the courtyard remained apart from when she 
had opened them in the morning.  She walked to the window 
and looked out into the night.  The light in the Fleury 
apartment had gone out, and the courtyard was lit now only 
by moonlight.  As she gazed absently into the darkness, she 
reached under her dress to remove her panties, lowering 
them to her feet and kicking them to the side.  The dress 
was secured at the top by two thin straps which tied at the 
shoulder.  She untied each of these, and the dress would 
have fallen completely off had the bodice not been stopped 
by the swell of her breasts.  She yawned and stretched, 
then stood for a few moments with one hand idly massaging 
the back of her neck while the other caressed a hip.  The 
dress began to slip further down, and she reached up to 
close the curtains.  Fifteen minutes later, after a quick 
shower, she was in bed.

* * * * *

The next day was another fine one, and she was up early, 
busying herself for the holiday with her family in the 
country.  It was to be at the rather large rustic compound 
belonging to her Uncle Jack.  She was looking forward to 
seeing her parents and her sister Michelle; Jack was 
another matter, but she could put up with him for a couple 
of days.

When she was ready to leave she went to the open window and 
looked out.  Across the courtyard she saw Pierre moving 
about in his bedroom through the window opposite hers.  His 
window was open, too, and she called out to him.

"Bonjour, Pierre!" she cried, waving to him.  "Ça va?"

Pierre came to his window and leaned out.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Anita!" he replied, smiling shyly.  
"Oui, ça va bien."

"Listen, Pierre," Anita went on, "I'm leaving on holiday in 
a moment, but I have something for you.  Meet me in the 
café in a moment, OK?"

"Oui, d'accord!" Pierre responded brightly, and 
disappeared.

Anita closed the window and curtains, then gathered up her 
travel bags and headed down to the café.  Pierre was there 
waiting for her.  She smiled and shook his hand in 
greeting.  Then, reaching into a plastic shopping bag she 
carried, she produced a long package, wrapped in gift paper 
and a ribbon.

"Joyeux anniversaire!" she exclaimed, handing him the 
package.

"My - my birthday?" he replied in surprise.  "But it's not 
until next week!"

"Oh, Pierre!" Anita said, putting her hands on her hips in 
mock exasperation.  "It's only in a couple of days, and I 
may be away then.  Go ahead, open it!"

Pierre grinned happily, and eagerly began to unwrap the 
gift.  Opening the long box, he withdrew a metal tube, 
almost a meter long.

"It's a telescope!" he said in amazement, looking up at 
Anita in open-mouthed wonder.  "How - how did you know that 
I ..."

"Your Maman told me about your interest in the stars," 
Anita interjected.  "The man at the store said you can see 
stars and craters on the moon with this.  He even said you 
can see the moons of Jupiter, although I really don't know 
what that is."

Pierre held the telescope to his eye and looked up and down 
the street, then pulled the instruction manual from the 
box.

"I'm going to go and read all about it now!" he said 
excitedly.  "Merci, merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle Anita!  
This is so cool!"

"You're welcome, Pierre," Anita said gently.  "I really 
hope you enjoy it."  He grinned happily and ran back into 
the café to head for his room.

Madame Fleury had been watching as she served tables.  She 
went to Anita as Pierre ran by her.

"Anita, you didn't have to do that!  You will spoil the 
boy!"  She shook her head and wagged a finger at Anita.

"Oh, don't be silly, Thérèse," Anita responded, "it makes 
me happy to do it.  I think it's important to encourage a 
young boy's interests, don't you?"

"Well, thank you, chérie, it was very sweet of you.  He 
will love you even more than before!"

Anita smiled and embraced Madame Fleury, kissing her on 
each cheek.

"Well, I'm off!" she announced, and took up her travel 
bags.  "I should be back in a couple of days."

"Bonnes vacances, chérie," Madame Fleury called, as Anita 
headed for the bus that would take her to the railway 
station.

* * * * *

Anita's Uncle Jack was married to her mother's younger 
sister Abigail.  No one could understand how they had wound 
up together as a couple, since they were as different as 
night and day.  Abigail was small and delicate, and very 
reserved.  Jack, on the other hand, was outgoing and 
aggressive.  He was a large man, with a substantial belly, 
which provoked speculation as to just how Abigail was able 
to survive in his bed.  Anita and her older sister Michelle 
often giggled together as girls, wondering why Aunt Abby 
wasn't pressed flat as a pancake, or torn apart when Jack 
snorted and rooted around on top of her.  They hadn't had 
children, and it was well known that Jack had an eye for 
the ladies, especially the younger ones.  So, Anita and 
Michelle had decided early on, there probably wasn't much 
activity to speak of in Uncle Jack and Aunt Abby's bed; in 
other words, Jack didn't get much at home, and probably 
found his pleasures elsewhere.

This holiday was to be a family reunion at a woods camp 
that Jack owned, on the edge of a large Provincial Park.  
It consisted of a large log house and two guest 
outbuildings, surrounding by fifty acres of woods.  Jack 
had bought it as a vacation home, and to entertain business 
associates, at least those who enjoyed fishing as much as 
he did.

Anita was met at the railway station by Michelle.  They had 
been very close as girls, and the half-hour ride to the 
camp gave them an opportunity to catch up, and talk about 
old times.

"So, who's arrived so far?" Anita asked.

"Mom and Dad are there," said Michelle, "and the cousins.  
Oh, and Auntie Abby too, of course."

"How about Jack?"

"Oh, he won't be there until tomorrow.  He was delayed by 
some business in the city."

"Right," said Anita sardonically, "business.  Some business 
between a slut's legs, I bet!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised," Michelle laughed.  "Poor 
Auntie Abby, I don't think she gets any attention from that 
jerk.  I feel bad for her."

"I know," said Anita, "me too.  God knows why she's stayed 
with him for so long.  Roof over her head, I suppose.  
Well, it's her life.  Guess she's found some way to deal 
with it.  Probably involving batteries."

Michelle made a face.  "You're bad, Anita!  Not everyone's 
a sex fiend like you!"

Anita laughed.  "Well, I don't think she's getting any 
action from him.   He probably saves his stuff for sweet 
young things.  He always was a dirty old man ... and we 
should know!"

Michelle nodded.  "Remember how he used to come into our 
room at night when we came here, when we were kids?  That 
used to scare the shit out of me!  We probably should've 
told Mom about it."

"Oh, I don't know," Anita said, yawning.  "It wasn't such a 
big deal.  He was too chicken-shit to really do anything.  
Telling Mom would've just blown the whole family apart.  
And we wouldn't have been able to come out here for 
vacations anymore!"

"Jesus, Anita, you really are terrible!  Is that all it 
meant to you?  That pig had his hands all over you before 
you were even a teenager!  God!"

Anita shrugged.  "He never got what he really wanted, not 
enough anyway.  I made sure of that."

"Yeah," said Michelle, "I remember those little games you 
used to play.  He never got anywhere with me because I'd 
scrunch up in a ball under the covers and pretend I was 
asleep whenever we heard him coming - no fun at all.  But 
you!  God, the way you'd get yourself posed 'in your 
sleep', with the covers off and wearing nothing but 
panties, your arms thrown back and your little tits 
sticking up, sucking your thumb - sucking your thumb, for 
God's sake!  I could see him by the night-light, tip-toeing 
over to you, looking you up and down while he stood over 
you, all heavy breathing.  Do you know he actually jerked 
off sometimes when he was looking at you?"

"Of course I knew," Anita laughed.  "That was the whole 
point.  To get him hot and bothered when he couldn't do 
anything about it."

Michelle sighed.  "Did you ever think, Anita, that maybe 
you made things worse for Auntie Abby by getting him 
excited like that?  That maybe his lust for you caused him 
to ignore her?"

Anita frowned and shook her head.  "No, he was a pig long 
before we came along.  I don't take responsibility for how 
he treated Aunt Abigail, or for his drooling over little 
girls.  I just made sure he was punished for it, that's 
all.  Besides," she went on, "I wouldn't be surprised if 
Aunty Abby got more action when we were around than when we 
weren't - nothing like a couple of sexy little lolitas to 
get him going!"

Michelle shook her head and laughed.  "Same old Anita," she 
said.  "Well, let's enjoy this weekend, anyway.  All that's 
in the past now, right?"

Anita smiled at looked out her window.  "Sure," she said.  
"Maybe."

* * * * *

The next day Anita and Michelle decided to take some wine 
down to the stream and sunbathe while their cousins were 
off antiquing.  A path led from the house through the woods 
to a secluded, grassy clearing on the banks of a rushing 
brook, where their Uncle Jack liked to go trout-fishing.  
It was a sunny area, ideal for picnicking or just sun-
bathing.

The girls spread a large blanket on the grass and lay down 
next to each other and chatted.  The weather was warm, and 
they luxuriated in the bright sunshine.  Michelle had worn 
her bathing suit, and she removed the top to work on her 
"lineless" tan.  Anita had on a light Indian-print cotton 
skirt that came down almost to her ankles, and a white 
spaghetti-strap t-shirt.  She was lying on her stomach and 
had pulled the skirt up over her bottom, exposing her 
bikini panties and the backs of her legs to the sun as she 
and her sister talked and laughed together.

After about a half hour they heard a voice calling to them 
as someone came down the path.

"Well, here comes Jack," Michelle groaned.  "Guess the 
peace and quiet was too good to last."  She reached for her 
bikini top and got it on just as Jack appeared in the 
clearing, but not before he got an eyeful of her tanned, 
naked breasts.

"How're my favorite nieces," he said, rubbing his hands 
together as he came toward them.  "Don't worry about 
getting yourself decent.  After all, we're all just family 
here!"

Michelle didn't say anything and looked at him rather 
sourly, but Anita jumped up and ran to greet him, clapping 
her hands in delight.

"Hi, Uncle Jack!" she said brightly, giving him a hug and 
pressing her breasts against him.  "Gee, it's so good to 
see you after so long!"  She stood on tiptoes and gave him 
a kiss on the cheek, while Michelle stared in disbelief, 
shaking her head.

Anita put her arm around his waist, holding him close 
against her, and led him to the blanket.  He beamed at her 
as they walked, and reached down to give a lingering pat on 
her bottom.  She just grinned at him and wrinkled her nose.

"Come have some wine with us, Jack," she said.  "We were 
just talking about you!"

"All good, I hope," he said, easing himself down onto one 
end of the blanket.

"Of course!" Anita chirped.  "We were just wondering when 
you were going to finally come and see us.  It's great 
being out here at the camp and all, but it's no fun without 
naughty Uncle Jack!"

Jack beamed with pleasure, basking in the attention he was 
getting from Anita.  Michelle just rolled her eyes and 
looked away.

They chatted for a while about what each of them had been 
up to since they last saw each other, which had actually 
been a couple of years.  Jack was stretched out and 
reclining on his elbow on one side of the blanket, while 
the girls sat at the other end.  Anita had pulled her knees 
up and was resting her chin on them, with her arms clasping 
her legs as she listened to Jack.  The hem of her skirt was 
just below her knees and hung loosely to the sides, giving 
Jack a clear view under her skirt of the bottom of her 
thighs, all the way from her bent knees down to where white 
panties peeked out from under her bottom.  After a while 
she shifted her position, leaving her right knee up, but 
extending her left leg out to the side.  The hem of her 
skirt now formed a triangular window, clearly exposing her 
sheer bikini panties, stretched tightly across her crotch 
as she sat with her legs apart.  She seemed not to notice 
as she chatted away, but Jack's face was flushed and his 
eyes were glued between her legs as he unconsciously licked 
his lips.

Jack finally managed to pull his eyes away from Anita's 
crotch, and said hoarsely, "Ah, so, Anita, I hear you've 
been working in a massage parlor.  Great job for a pretty 
girl like you!"

Anita's eyes opened a bit wider.  "Oh!" she said.  "Well, 
yes, it's just a summer job.  I'm working as a massage 
therapist.  But I have to quit soon since school is 
starting up again."

"Therapist," he said hesitantly.  "So you just give - 
massages?"

"Yes," she replied, "therapeutic massages.  I took a course 
and I have a license and everything!  I like helping 
people.  Getting out muscle kinks and aches and pains and 
all that."

Jack thought for a moment, then sat up and stretched.

"Well," he said, "how would you feel about giving your old 
Uncle Jack a sample?  My back's been hurting lately - tight 
muscles from work stress and all."

Anita regarded him with a level stare for a few moments.  
Then she said brightly, "Well, sure, Uncle Jack!  Why not?  
I'd be glad to!"  She jumped up and looked down at him.  
"So, just take off your shirt and get comfortable face down 
on the blanket."

Michelle got up and replaced her bottle of suntan lotion in 
her tote bag.  "Well," she said, "I think I'll head back up 
to the house.  Guess I'll see you at dinner later."

"Hold on a sec, Mickey," Anita said.  She ran up to her 
sister and whispered something in her ear, while Jack 
removed his Hawaiian shirt and grunted back down onto the 
blanket.  Michelle then turned and disappeared up the path 
to the main house.

Anita returned to the blanket and looked down at Jack.  He 
was wearing blue boxer-style swim trunks, and he had 
arranged himself on the blanket with his elbows projecting 
to the sides, and his head turned with a cheek resting on 
the backs of his hands.  His legs were fairly muscular and 
pale, although the rest of him was out of shape and plump.  
His back was very hairy.

"OK," said Anita as she stepped onto the blanket, kneeling 
on either side of him as she straddled his back, preparing 
to go to work.  "Let's see what we can do about poor old 
Uncle Jack.  Gee, you're furry!" she giggled.

She started as she usually did, working on the muscles of 
his neck and arms, then working down his back on either 
side of his spine.  As she began to manipulate the lateral 
muscles along his sides she lowered herself until she was 
sitting on him, her legs straddling his rump.  She moved 
lower to knead his buttocks through his bathing suit, 
moving to the side and tightly straddling one of his legs 
as she worked.  She then shifted to the other side, 
similarly mounting the other leg.  He could feel the warmth 
between her legs as she straddled him, and he had to shift 
his weight a bit to accommodate the erection that was 
starting to press against the blanket under him.

Eventually she worked her way down to his feet, and she 
raised herself up onto her knees, kneeling as she massaged 
the muscles of his legs.  She worked on each leg 
separately, moving upwards from his feet and massaging 
vigorously with her fingertips until she reached the top of 
a thigh.  She had gotten him to spread his legs a bit more, 
and as she continued to work the muscles on the back and 
side of his leg with one hand, the fingers of the other 
reached just under his swimsuit and lightly brushed up and 
down along his inner thigh, millimeters from his netting-
encased testicles.  He shifted his position again, as his 
erection grew larger.

"OK," Anita said finally, "all done on this side.  Now flip 
yourself over."

Jack complied, trying surreptitiously to smooth out the 
bulge at his crotch as he lay back down on his back.  He 
was not very successful in this, and his erection was 
obvious, struggling to tent upwards against the constraints 
of the netting inside his trunks.  Anita paid it no notice 
as she kneeled next to him, waiting for him to adjust 
himself.

"Whew!" she said, "it sure is hot today!  You don't mind if 
I take some of this stuff off, do you Uncle Jack?  After 
all, we're family!"

She stood up and proceeded to detach the skirt from around 
her waist, then crossed her arms and pulled the t-shirt up 
over her head.  Jack stared open mouthed as she stood over 
him in only her tight cotton panties and lacy half-bra.  
The little bikini briefs were cut very low and clearly 
showed the contours of what lay beneath, and the brassiere 
just barely managed to hold her full breasts, covering only 
their lower halves while the rest swelled voluptuously 
above.

"There!" she said happily, "that's much better!  Now let's 
get back to work on you..."

She continued massaging his legs, this time the muscles on 
the tops of his thighs.  As she moved up and down from his 
knees to his hips she completely ignored the bulge between 
his legs, which was becoming increasingly obvious.  After 
this, she stood up and climbed over him again, straddling 
his large belly while she leaned forward and massaged the 
back of his neck and his forehead.  He stared at her 
breasts, which bobbled right in front of his face as she 
vigorously kneaded his shoulders and deltoids.  She didn't 
look at him while she did this, focusing instead on the 
work of her hands, the tip of her tongue stuck at the 
corner of her mouth while she exerted herself with a little 
frown of concentration.  Then she had him spread his arms 
out to the side, and proceeded to run her hands along them, 
from his wrists to his shoulders and back again.  Each time 
she leaned down to reach his wrists her face came very 
close to his and her breasts squeezed against his chest.  
"Peek-a-boo!" she chirped, grinning at him, then rose up 
again as her hands moved back to his shoulders.  He could 
smell her skin, and he saw the fine sheen of sweat on her 
breasts as they rose and fell before his eyes.  Behind her 
his erection was starting to lift the elastic band of his 
trunks.

After she was done with this, she sat up straight and moved 
back a little on his belly while she started to manipulate 
the pectorals of his chest, what she could reach of them 
under their layers of fat.  Suddenly she gave a yelp as she 
began to slide down his belly.

"Yikes!" she cried, recovering her balance.  "That was a 
surprise!  Just like skiing backwards down a big hill!"

While still straddling him she had slid down the lower 
slope of his large belly, and had come to rest with her 
spread crotch pressing directly on his throbbing erection.  
She looked up at him and laughed.

"Well, that was fun," she said, "sure didn't expect that!"  
Reaching behind her, she grasped his knees and leaned back, 
arching her back and looking up at the sky.

"Gosh, what a beautiful day!" she sighed.  "Doesn't it feel 
soooooo good to be out here?"  She closed her eyes and 
smiled up into the sky, while she stretched and writhed in 
pleasure under the warm sunshine.

Jack was almost drooling now as her warm crotch rubbed 
against his hard penis, trapped and excited almost to the 
point of bursting inside his trunks.  He looked up at her 
gorgeous body, from her hips and the maddening sight of her 
crotch grinding into him, just barely covered by her thin 
panties, up her toned belly to those incredible breasts, 
almost escaping from the tantalizing brassiere.  For 
several seconds she remained stretched back with her eyes 
closed, smiling while her uncle was staring at her and 
going mad with lust.

Finally she straightened up and kneeled between his legs, 
her hands on her knees as she rested back on folded legs.

"Well," she said, "that's the end of the massage.  So, how 
was it?  Did it feel good?"

Jack was open mouthed and speechless for a few seconds.  
When he finally managed to speak, it was in more of a croak 
than a voice.

"Yes," he forced out, panting.  "Yes, but..."

"But?" she responded, her eyes widening.  "But what?" she 
said with a little pout.  "Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Oh god, oh yes, Anita, but..."  He bit his lips and finally 
managed to get control of himself.

"What I mean, Anita, is that if you ... I mean I think you 
could, you know, make a lot more money in your job if you, 
well, you know, if you sort of ... sort of went a little 
further?"

"Further?" Anita said, frowning in puzzlement.  "How do you 
mean, Uncle Jack?"

"Well, I mean that sometimes men can get very, ah, you 
know, excited, when a pretty girl like you gives them a 
massage, when she touches them so nice the way you do, and 
... well, if you, ah, if you touched them some more, you 
know, in a way that ... that sort of relieved their 
excitement, then I think they would really like it and ..."

He trailed off and Anita looked at him for a few seconds, 
seeming not to understand what he was saying to her.  Then 
her eyes flew open and her mouth dropped in astonishment.

"Oh!  You mean ... you mean, if I massaged them ... here?"

She reached forward and placed her hand directly on his 
bulging erection.  Her hand remained holding it lightly as 
she looked enquiringly into his eyes.  Jack breathed in 
sharply and let out a barely suppressed whimper.  His penis 
jumped, but Anita didn't move her hand.

"Y-yes, yes," he panted, "yes, right there, I ... I think you 
could do very well in your job if you did that..."  His face 
was flushed and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Anita removed her hand and looked down at the ground, 
frowning.

"Gee, I don't know, Uncle Jack.  I don't think I could do 
that."

Jack groaned inwardly in disappointment and frustration.

"I think you could do it, Anita, I think you'd be ... I think 
you'd be really good at it.  Just think, you ... you could 
pay for all your school books with the extra money you 
could make!"

Anita thought about that, then looked up at him shyly.

"But ... but I've never done anything like that before.  I 
wouldn't know what to do," she said.

Jack was getting more excited now.  "It wouldn't be hard 
for you to learn, Anita, it's real simple.  You just need 
someone to show you, that's all."

"Well ... well, I don't know," she said softly.  Suddenly she 
seemed to get an idea.

"Uncle Jack, do you think you could ... oh, I shouldn't ask 
you ... but ... well, do ... do you think you could show me how?  
If you wouldn't mind?  Since we're family and all?"

Jack's heart was on the verge of bursting out of this chest 
now.

"I ... I'd be happy to Anita.  Anything for my favorite 
niece!"

Anita rose to her knees and looked down at the bulge in his 
crotch.

"Well, I guess I have to see what it looks like first.  Can 
I look at you, Uncle Jack?  Please?"

"Yea ... yeah," Jack said, licking his lips.  His eyes were 
burning.  "Go ahead, get a good look at it..."  He spread his 
legs wider.

Anita reached forward and pulled the elastic waistband of 
Jack's swim trunks down until his cock and balls leapt free 
of their confines.  She hooked the waistband under his 
balls and left it there, leaving him completely exposed.

Jack was hung like a horse.  His erect cock was eight 
inches long, and its tip had extended completely out of the 
foreskin.  The head was dark red and glistening, and looked 
almost angry in its quest for more stimulation and 
excitement.  His balls were hoisted like a hairy bag of 
tennis balls held high by the stretched waistband.

"Wow," said Anita, "you're so big!  I ... I don't know where 
to begin!"  She cupped his balls in her hands, and gently 
held them, slowly caressing his sac.

Jack was going mad with excitement now.  "Well," he said, 
panting hard, "just take your hand and..."

"It's all veiny!" Anita interrupted, running a fingertip 
along one of the prominent veins that formed a network on 
Jack's engorged penis.  "Wow, that's so weird!  It looks so 
big and swollen - are you sure it doesn't hurt with all 
these veins sticking out like that?"  She continued running 
her finger up and down the bluish veins that covered his 
quivering erection.  Glancing at her watch she asked, "So 
what should I do now?"

"God, no, it doesn't hurt, it feels just so fucking good! 
All ya gotta do is just ... ohhhhhhhh!"

"Look at how this big ridge runs up and down," Anita had 
interrupted again, "all the way from here ..." - she put 
her fingertip on his scrotum - "all the way up to here...," 
running up the shaft to the head, lightly feathering his 
cock along the underside, up and down.

"Ohhhh my god!" moaned Jack, struggling to speak.  "That 
feels so..."

"So what should I do?" asked Anita, removing her finger and 
looking up at him expectantly.

His labored breathing was making it difficult for him to 
speak.  "Take your hand, sweetie," he finally managed 
hoarsely, "and put it around my cock.  Then move it up and 
down..."

She reached out and gently clasped his rigid penis in her 
soft hand.  "Like this?" she asked.

"Mmmmm, oh yes, just like that," he panted.

"And I move it ... like this?" she asked again, and slowly 
began to slide her hand up his cock, holding it lightly, 
barely touching it, very, very slowly up and down...

"Ohhhhhh god yessss!" he groaned, closing his eyes in 
ecstasy as his pleasure mounted.

"Am I doing it right?" Anita asked softly.  "How long 
should I do it?"

"Ohhh you're doing just perfect!" he panted.  "Just keep 
going, keep doing it until I cum...."

"Just like this?" she said, looking again at her watch.  
"Does it really feel good?"  She began to move her hand 
faster, but loosened her grip slightly, so that what he was 
feeling now was pure, tantalizing tease.

"Oh god, oh god ..." he was babbling now.  "Please, oh 
please, just a little tighter, sweetie, please, just a 
little more..."

Anita studied her watch.  "Tighter?" she cooed.  "Like 
this?"  She tightened her grip on his ravished penis and 
continued stroking it very slowly, coaxing his pleasure 
higher and higher.  As her hand passed up over his swollen 
glans, she squeezed it gently, causing it to expand still 
further under her fingers, purple and glistening.  Pre-
ejaculate was oozing from the opening in the center of the 
flared knob, lubricating Anita's tormenting hand and making 
the sensations it was creating even more exciting and 
thrilling.  Jack was being irresistibly driven towards a 
delicious orgasm, each maddeningly slow stroke bringing him 
closer ... closer ... closer ...

"Yoo hoo, you still down here?  Mom wants everybody to come 
for dinner now."  The voice was Michelle's, and she was 
coming down the path to the clearing.

"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed Anita, as she jumped up and 
quickly pulled on her skirt and t-shirt.  "Well, I guess 
the lesson is over for now, Uncle Jack!"  Michelle appeared 
in the clearing, and Anita winked at her.

Good old Mickey - Anita had whispered to her to come back 
in thirty minutes, exactly thirty minutes.  And Michelle 
had complied, almost to the second.

Jack's face was on fire, and he hastily pulled up his swim 
trunks, holding his hands in his lap to hide his now truly 
enormous problem.

"Uh, you girls go ahead, I have, uh, something to do here.  
I'll join you in a minute."

Anita put her hands on her hips.  "Oh, no you don't, Uncle 
Jack!  When Mom says now she means now - so come on!"  She 
walked over to the blanket and pulled him to his feet.  He 
quickly snatched up the blanket and held it in front of 
him.

"Good!" said Anita.  "You can carry that and I'll take my 
bag.  Now, let's go!"  She motioned to him to go ahead, 
while she and Michelle followed behind.

As Jack hurried up the path, Michelle stopped Anita.  "Now 
what was that all about?" she asked.

"Well, let's just say there'll be no jack for Jack today!" 
Anita answered.  When Michelle looked puzzled, Anita 
laughed.  "I'll tell you later," she said, and they 
continued on up to the house.

* * * * *

After dinner that night, when Anita was leaving the kitchen 
after helping with the clean-up, Jack caught up with her 
and asked if he could talk with her for a moment in his 
den.  She smiled and followed him into the room.  He shut 
the door and turned to her.

"Anita, that was really a great massage you gave me today," 
he said, a little nervously.

"Why thank you, Jack," she replied.  "I enjoyed doing it, 
it was my pleasure!"

He nodded and smiled weakly, then continued.  "And ... and I 
was thinking that since we were, ah, interrupted in the 
middle of the lesson I was giving you, maybe we could 
continue later tonight, or tomorrow maybe, whenever you 
want.  I, ah ... I owe you that much.  There are a lot more 
things that I could, uh, that I could show you that, ah ... 
you know to help you in your job and all, and ..."

Anita interrupted him and kissed him on the cheek.  "Oh, 
Jack," she said tenderly, "I couldn't ask you to do that.  
It's so sweet of you to offer, but I really don't want to 
impose on you any more.  But thank you, though."

Jack shook his head vigorously.  "Oh no, no," she said, his 
voice rising in pitch, "it wasn't an imposition, Anita, not 
at all!  I was really happy to help out, honest I was!  
It's just that, uh, well, things were going really good, 
and you were doing so well, and I, uh, I think that if we 
finished ... I mean if we continued with the lesson I could 
show you, I mean I could explain to you how you can, uh, 
you know, how you can help your business, and ..."

"No, Jack," Anita interrupted, "you've done enough already, 
honest you have!  I really think I've gotten the gist of 
what you were showing me, and I know I can figure out the 
rest for myself.  And I'll have you to thank for it.  
Believe me, Uncle Jack, when later on I'm at work making 
some man very happy, I'll be thinking of you.  And I hope 
you'll be thinking of me, too, thinking about what I'm 
doing with what you taught me..."  She kissed him again, this 
time on the lips, very gently.

"Well, ta!" she said brightly.  "I'm off to talk to Mickey 
about taking me to the station tomorrow morning.  I'm 
leaving early, so I probably won't see you again, until my 
next visit.  Sweet dreams, Uncle Jack!"  And with that she 
was off, leaving Jack red-faced and sweating.

Later, walking outside in the darkness, Anita told Michelle 
about what had happened down in the clearing.  Michelle 
shook her head slowly and smiled ironically.

"So that's why he was mooning around you tonight, like a 
rutting stag," she said.

"Yeah," said Anita, "I really got him going!  You should 
have seen it."

"Well," said Michelle, "it's like the French say."

"And what's that?" asked Anita.

"Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose," said Michelle.

Anita laughed.  "Oh, that.  Yes, it was like old times, 
that's for sure, except this time I wasn't 'asleep'!"  She 
thought for a moment.  "And you know what?" she asked.

"No, what?"

"The way I left him, I wouldn't be surprised if Aunty Abby 
gets something nice and hot and hard between her legs 
tonight!"

Michelle almost choked.

"God, Anita," she laughed, "you are bad - you are very 
bad!"

"No," protested Anita.  "I am very good - very good at 
being very bad!"

Then, each with an arm around the other's waist, the two 
laughing sisters walked back to the house.

* * * * *

Two days later, Anita was thinking about Uncle Jack as she 
watched the bound and gagged man under her struggle and 
writhe.  Oh, yes, she thought to herself, smiling.  This is 
what Uncle Jack wanted.  I'll bet there isn't anything he 
wouldn't give for a little piece of this.  Too bad he'll 
never get any, not from me at any rate.

The man Anita was straddling was securely bound to the 
massage table.  At the beginning of his session Anita had 
watched while he stripped completely, and had then 
imperiously ordered him onto the table, where she proceeded 
to tie him down in a way that rendered him totally 
helpless: tight straps bound him to the table at his waist 
and chest, and his spread legs were held securely at the 
ankles and knees; his arms were extended above his head and 
strapped at the elbows and wrists; and because his cries 
and pleadings were likely to become annoyingly loud, his 
mouth was gagged.  Only his head and neck were left free.  
There was nothing he could do by just moving his head, and 
it amused Anita to watch him thrash it about in agony and 
frustration.

Then she had gone to work on him.  There was no actual 
pain, but the distress she inflicted upon him was intense 
and unbearable.  Insanely sadistic tickling was mixed 
indiscriminately and unpredictably with bouts of slow cock-
tease.  One particularly effective technique involved a 
combination of tickling and genital manipulation: while 
gently fondling his cock in an extremely arousing way she 
would simultaneously begin to tickle his feet or his ribs - 
if he thrashed or cried out, or otherwise reacted to the 
tickling, the erotic fondling would stop instantly; only if 
he steeled himself to the onslaught of frenzied tickling 
convulsions and bore them in rigid silence would the sweet 
sexual pleasure of her cock-play continue.  He was 
emotionally torn to shreds by instincts raging in opposite 
directions within him.  Anita was very good at making this 
last for a long, long time.

This had gone on for an hour, after which Anita had stepped 
up onto the table and straddled his hips facing him, with 
his tormented penis bobbling between her legs.  She had 
started this final phase of his "treatment" by gently 
masturbating him to the brink of orgasm, then viciously 
slapping his agonized member, deflating it before it could 
ejaculate.  She had done this several times, and his poor 
cock was bright pink from her repeated assaults.

She had removed her costume, so that the bound man had the 
added stimulation of her nude body lasciviously displayed 
to him as she worked to alternately arouse and frustrate 
him.

"Ohhhhh my god, you want to fuck me so badly, don't you?" 
she whispered urgently.  "Doesn't it just drive you crazy 
that you can't?"  She rose up on her knees to give him a 
clear view of her naked body.  Licking her lips, she smiled 
tauntingly down at him as she caressed herself, running her 
hands all over her body, squeezing and lifting her 
delicious breasts to his lust-filled gaze.  She moved 
forward on her knees and gently drew his erect penis 
towards her, pressing it between her legs against her soft, 
downy pussy.

Raising her eyebrows and looking into his eyes, she 
whispered, "Or, maybe you can..."  She reached down and took 
a bottle from the table, and carefully squeezed out one 
drop of massage oil onto her fingertip, and rubbed it 
around the glans of his penis in slow, sensuous circles, 
coating its entire surface with the slippery, glistening 
oil.  Looking at him with a seductive, open mouthed smile, 
she gently grasped his cock and positioned herself directly 
over it.  Then, slowly and carefully, she lowered herself 
until the tip of his erect penis just barely penetrated the 
warm, moist entrance to her pussy.

"Does that feel good?" she asked. "Do you like that?  Want 
a little more?"  With her hands on her hips, she began to 
move her lower body in circles, causing the head of his 
cock to nuzzle in the lips of her vulva, but never getting 
deeper into her.  The man groaned through his gag, and 
Anita giggled at the frustration showing in his face.

"Aww, what's the matter?" she cooed, "That not enough?  You 
need to get your poor little cock in deeper?"  She put her 
hands behind her head, which caused her breasts to jut out 
voluptuously, and smiled tauntingly down at him.  "How's 
this - this better?"  Never taking her eyes off his, she 
lowered herself another half inch onto his cock.  She was 
still for a moment, then started a gentle up and down 
motion, a slow bounce that moved the tip of his cock in and 
out of her pussy over a stroke of barely an inch, just 
enough to engulf his cock head in her slick warmth, but 
which left the sensitive area just below the cleft out in 
the cold and neglected.

"It's not enough, is it?" she taunted, "You need just a 
little more, don't you?  Awww, poor baby!"  The man began 
to writhe under her, trying desperately to raise his groin 
higher, to penetrate more deeply into the tantalizing pussy 
that was being held just out of his reach.  Anita laughed 
delightedly at his futile struggling, and continued to mock 
and taunt him about his unsatisfied need.

"Mmmmm, it's so hot and wet up inside me, just imagine how 
it would feel if you could get your poor cock up inside 
there!  Ohhhhhh, think about it, think about how that would 
feel.  You need the pleasure soooooo much, don't you?"  She 
frowned and bit her lower lip in mock sympathy for his 
agonized frustration.  "And it would be so easy to let you 
have it, too - all I would have to do is this..." She allowed 
herself to descend a full inch lower and moved up and down 
slowly, giving the first two inches of his penis three 
slippery strokes inside her.  But then she raised herself 
and continued with the frustrating bounce.  "...but I'm not 
going to let you have it - that was all you get..."

The man moaned frantically through his gag in lust and 
frustration, and thrashed against his bindings, trying to 
reach up higher, just a little higher, to get just a little 
more stimulation from that tantalizing, warm pussy.  Anita 
responded by teasing him more with little tastes of 
exquisite pleasure quickly snatched out of reach.

Finally, when he had exhausted himself with futile 
thrashing and writhing, Anita lifted herself from him and 
sat back to regard the slick, rigid erection extending up 
his belly.  After a few moments she smiled and looked at 
him.

"Tell you what," she said, "I'll make a little deal with 
you.  I will let you fuck me with your cock all the way up 
inside me for as long as you want, as fast or as slow as 
you want, your hard cock sliding in and out of my hot, wet 
pussy just the way you've dreamed about, the way you love 
it ... if you can go for the next minute without cumming and 
exploding your hot spunk all over yourself.  And I promise 
I won't use my hands, or my mouth, or my tongue ..." - she 
grinned and ran the tip of her tongue along her upper lip - 
"... and you know what?  I'll even give you your money back, 
this little visit will be my treat!  So what do you say - 
wanna try?"

He stared at her with desperate eyes, and managed to nod 
his head.  His eyes shifted nervously, not knowing what to 
expect.

"Goody!" said Anita.  "This will be fun!"  She rose on her 
knees again, and reached for the bottle of oil.  Squirting 
a generous amount into her hand, she reached down and 
massaged it into her pussy, all over her inner and outer 
lips, making a glistening, slick channel between her labia 
all the way from the bottom of her cleft to her pink 
clitoris at the top.  Grinning wickedly, she moved forward 
and lowered herself until the man's excited cock was 
nestled between his belly and the slippery channel of her 
cleft.  When he saw what was about to happen to him he 
began to struggle again, trying to escape from the pleasure 
chamber that Anita had just placed him in.  He closed his 
eyes, trying to block out what was coming.

Then she began to move - slowly, sensuously, she moved her 
crotch back and forth over the imprisoned penis, sliding 
her warm, lubricated labia up and down the underside of his 
enflamed erection, stimulating every part of it with 
thrilling erotic sensation.  As she rose to her highest 
point his glans slid past the opening at the bottom of her 
pussy, almost entering into that hot paradise, then glided 
up between her labia as she lowered herself, until the 
ultra-sensitive point at the top of his shaft was nudged 
and tantalized by her little pink clitoris as it slid by at 
the top of her slit.

Anita was enjoying the stimulation her clitoris was 
receiving from her movements, and she intended to use the 
man's trapped erection for her own pleasure.  Hints of her 
approaching orgasms rippled through her as the engorged 
glans rubbed up and down under her little pink nub. She 
watched the expression on her victim's face to judge just 
when she should move to finish them both off.

The man was straining to control himself so that he could 
claim the prize of a full fuck with Anita.  His eyes were 
closed and he struggled to think of anything but the 
incredible flood of pleasure he was feeling as her slick 
pussy slid up and down his cock.  It was unrelenting, and 
was driving him closer and closer to orgasm.  He gritted 
his teeth and closed his eyes tight in concentration.

Anita saw this, and when just a few seconds remained in the 
minute, she suddenly ceased her movements.  The man, not 
understanding what had happened, opened his eyes and looked 
up at her.  She looked into his eyes in pleading 
supplication, and began sliding against him again, this 
time harder and faster.

"Oh god, oh god, I'm gonna cum!" she moaned, "Please ... 
please make me cummmmm...!"  Her face showed desperate 
surrender to her impending climax, and her full breasts 
swayed and jiggled inches from his face, their pink nipples 
swollen and erect, as she rubbed her hot, slick pussy up 
and down his excited cock.  The tops of her breasts were 
flushed, and sweat stood out on her brow as she trembled 
and whimpered and begged in the throes of the rippling 
waves of her approaching orgasm.

It overwhelmed him.  The sight of the woman on top of him 
in helpless surrender to her own lust, as she deliberately 
ravished his cock with her own hot pussy, the sweet, 
irresistible pleasure burning between his legs - it was too 
much: he gave it up, and spurts of hot semen burst from his 
cock, reaching all the way to his forehead and gagged 
mouth.  Anita grabbed the bucking penis and worked it until 
it was totally spent.  When it was over, she clapped her 
hands and grinned at him, and raised her fists in triumph.

"You lose!" she sang in a playful giggle, and jumped 
lightly to the floor, leaving him groaning in his 
restraints.  She went into her back room to tidy herself, 
and put on a robe before she finally returned to release 
him from the table.

* * * * *

On her way home she had dinner in a small Italian café that 
stayed open late.  She read while she worked on her Frutti 
di Mare at a leisurely pace.  Two middle-aged men were 
ogling her from where they sat in a corner, but she ignored 
them.  She knew that Giovanni, the owner, wouldn't stand 
for anyone bothering her.  The men were obviously trying to 
look up her short skirt, but that, as far as she was 
concerned, was their problem.

Tomorrow would be her last day of work before returning to 
school, and she was glad of it.  It wasn't that she didn't 
enjoy what she did, far from it; it gave her the 
opportunity to be creative in what was essentially her own 
private sexual laboratory.  But the change would be 
welcome, and she was looking forward to picking up where 
she had left off with her professor friend John, the only 
man she knew who deeply understood (and personally 
appreciated) her erotic predilections.  In fact, the book 
she was reading was for the course she would be taking with 
him during the first semester.

It was late when she arrived home, although there was still 
a light shining in the window of the Fleury apartment 
overlooking the courtyard - Pierre must be still up, she 
thought to herself.

Entering her apartment, she turned on the lights and kicked 
off her sandals, then tossed her bag onto a chair and went 
directly to the window.  She parted the curtains and pushed 
open the casement window to let in the warm night air, 
fragrant with flowers from Madame Fleury's courtyard 
garden.  All was dark in the apartment opposite, and she 
smiled as she pulled her University sweatshirt up over her 
head, removing it and tossing it on the bed beside her.  
Then she lowered the zipper of her denim skirt and stepped 
out of it, tossing that onto the bed as well.  She hadn't 
been wearing a brassiere under the sweatshirt, and stood at 
the window now wearing only pale yellow bikini panties.  
Reaching up, she stretched her arms over her head and 
yawned.  She put her hands on the back of her neck, and 
began to flex her upper body to the right and left to 
relieve the tensions of the day, her large breasts swaying 
and bouncing with the motion.  Looking out into the 
darkness, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her 
panties and began to push them down over her hips.  But 
then she stopped, reached for the window curtains, and 
pulled them shut.

* * * * *

Last day of work before the start of the fall semester.  
She rarely made an appointment with a client at Gentle 
Hands, but she had done so with Thomas.  Thomas was 
special, and he interested Anita.  If he hadn't, she 
wouldn't have bothered with the thought and preparation 
that he required.  She would meet him tonight at 8:00.  
After that, she was done.

Until then, the day was her own.  She spent it preparing 
for her program at the University, organizing reading lists 
and schedules of the projects she would be working on.  
And, of course, there was her wardrobe to consider.  
Although she was strictly business when it came to her 
studies, she knew very well that her presence often created 
interest among the male members of the University 
community, both students and faculty.  So, she thought, if 
appetites were going to be whetted anyway, there might as 
well be hunger to go along with it.  In other words, cocks 
were meant to be teased, and her choice of clothing was 
guided by that maxim.  Her friend John was too wise and 
knew her too well to be taken in by her wiles, but the rest 
of the male faculty was fair game.

At one o'clock she went down to the café and had a 
leisurely lunch with Thérèse Fleury.  She spoke briefly 
about her weekend and her family, including Uncle Jack, but 
only about his lechery, not what she had done about it.  
Pierre was off visiting with a friend for the day, Madame 
Fleury told her.  He had taken the birthday present Anita 
had given him to show it off.  "He is so proud of it," 
Thérèse said, "he takes it everywhere, to bed I think!"  
Anita smiled.  "I'm glad," she said.

Later that evening Anita was working with her computer, 
putting the finishing touches on a collection of files she 
had been assembling.  She put a blank CD-ROM into the 
machine and copied the collection onto it.  She then got 
her laptop and put it and the CD into her large tote bag 
along with her outfit for the evening, and set off for 
Gentle Hands.

Thomas had been coming to see Anita all during the summer, 
sometimes several times a week.  He was almost never 
permitted to have an orgasm with her, even after extended 
sessions of penis fondling, in which she would bring him to 
the brink of release, only to send him on his way 
unsatisfied.  She sought to control his masturbation, as 
well, instructing him to pleasure himself at home but never 
to grant himself relief - that, she promised, she would 
give him herself - sometime - next time, perhaps - maybe.  
And sometimes she did, but rarely; most of the time he was 
kept in a state of simmering sexual frustration.

Fairly early on in his visits with her, during an extended 
session of slow, maddening cock-tease, she had coaxed from 
him a secret, a secret that had led to what she claimed was 
a program of treatment for his "problem."  For Thomas had 
gotten into trouble with the law, and was now under strict 
orders never to go near schools or playgrounds, or any 
other place where young girls might be found.  No longer 
able to seek excitement from exposing himself to little 
girls, or watching them on the off-chance of getting peeks 
up their skirts, he sought to indulge his fantasies with 
women who would oblige him with naughty role-play.  But in 
Anita he found something unexpected - someone who would 
"help" him to deal with his underlying psychological 
problems.

Anita convinced him that it was necessary to learn how to 
control his impulses - if he could be strong in the face of 
temptation, then things would go much better for him.  And 
she was more than happy to provide him with the sort of 
piquant temptations that got him trembling with illicit 
lust - learning to deal with them was up to him.  Being 
denied orgasm when he was so excited would help him; it was 
just part of the treatment, you see.

When Thomas arrived that evening, at eight on the dot, he 
found not an empty room where he was expected to wait, but, 
instead, Anita herself, waiting for him on her couch.  She 
was dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, with a white blouse, 
pink and blue plaid pleated skirt, suspenders, black patent 
leather shoes and ankle socks.  She was lying on the couch 
with her back propped up on a cushion at one end, and her 
knees were up and spread wide apart, revealing tight, white 
cotton panties.  Her hair was tied in two ponytails, and 
she was sucking on a lollipop.  Thomas stopped up short 
when he saw her, unable to speak.  She regarded him 
silently for a few moments, her tongue making slow swirls 
around the red lollipop.

"Hi," she said.  "Come on over here and sit down."  She 
motioned to the couch.  Thomas complied, and sat down next 
to her, sitting stiffly with his hands clasped between his 
knees.  He tried not to stare at her, but his eyes shifted 
about nervously, always returning to between her legs.  She 
smiled and kept licking her lollipop.

"Go ahead, you can look," she said.  "I don't mind - I want 
you to."  She spread her legs wider, causing her panties to 
press more tightly into her crotch, clearly outlining her 
well-defined pussy.  She giggled when she saw him blushing.

"You like to look, don't you?" she said, turning her head 
slightly and smiling at him with her lips parted, watching 
his excitement rise as he stared hungrily between her legs.  
She began to move her knees together and apart, swaying 
them back and forth.  "It gets you hot when you can look up 
a girl's skirt, doesn't it, especially when you can get a 
good look at her panties.  You love that, don't you?"  He 
nodded slowly, mesmerized by her panty tease.  She giggled 
and kept her legs spread for him.

"And I bet you wish you could touch, too, don't you?"  She 
licked her lips and looked at him with a tantalizing leer.  
"Ever wish you could get your hands under those teasing 
little girls' skirts and feel them up?  You'd love to 
stroke their pretty little pussies, wouldn't you?"  He was 
breathing faster now; he licked his lips.

"Go ahead, touch," she said.  "You know you want to - go 
ahead, I'll let you.  See how nice my warm pussy feels 
hiding in my tight little panties.  You can touch me - just 
a little..."  She squirmed her hips around to encourage him, 
keeping her legs wide apart.

Thomas reached out tentatively, and lightly stroked his 
thumb up and down her crotch, feeling the curves of her 
labia under the thin fabric of her panties, feeling her 
warmth and moistness.  Anita watched him, sensing his 
growing excitement.

"Mmmmm, that feels so good, Thomas," she cooed, biting a 
knuckle as she watched him groping between her legs.  
"Pretend I'm a little girl in the playground ... wouldn't you 
just love to touch her like this?"  He let out a low 
whimper and began to fondle her with both hands.  She sat 
up and moved her feet to the floor when she sensed that he 
was about to put his hands inside her panties.

"Ohh, Thomas," she moaned.  "This just makes me want to 
touch you!  Can I, please?"  Without waiting for an answer, 
she set to work opening his belt buckle, then unzipped his 
pants and freed his throbbing erection.  He gasped with 
surprise and pleasure as she began to fondle him with 
exciting caresses.  She sat very close to him and looked 
into his eyes as she slowly and expertly masturbated him.

"You know what I want to do?" she said in a little girl 
voice.  "I want to have a lollipop contest!  I wanna see 
what's the best lollipop!"  Jumping to her feet, she 
quickly slid his pants and underwear down and off, then 
positioned herself on her knees between his legs.  She held 
her lollipop up next to his erect penis.

"There!" she said, "Two lollipops!  Hm.  They're both kinda 
red."  She squeezed her lollipop and then his cock with her 
thumb and index finger.  "And they're both real hard.  So I 
wonder how they taste..."  Looking up at him, she gave the 
lollipop several slow licks, finishing by swirling her 
tongue all around it.

"Well, that one wasn't bad.  Now let's see about this one..."  
The slow licks were repeated, this time along the underside 
of his erect penis.  When she reached the tip she grinned 
up at him, and swirled her tongue all around the rim, 
lightly, teasingly.

This game went on for several minutes: first she would 
demonstrate on the lollipop what she intended to do to him; 
then, after a few seconds of kissing, licking or sucking on 
her candy, she would switch over to his cock and give it 
the same treatment.  Sometimes she hesitated just before 
giving him what he was expecting, grinning up at him 
wickedly with open mouth or extended tongue.  She giggled 
at his frustrated whimpers.

Finally, she sat back on her heels and held the lollipop at 
arm's length next to his penis, which she grasped at the 
base.  She frowned and concentrated.

"Hm," she said, "this is a tough decision.  They were both 
sooooo good!  But I think this is ... the winner!  Yaaayyy!"  
She tossed the lollipop aside and wiggled his erection 
as if it were a little flag.

"Oh, but look," she said, moving closer to his cock.  "It 
got all sticky from my lollipop - well, we'll just have to 
do something about that..."  Leaning forward she took his 
penis into her mouth and began to suck it along its entire 
length, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.  As her 
wet lips sucked and caressed his shaft up and down, her 
tongue was busy lathing and swirling around the head inside 
her mouth.  Thomas moaned in helpless ecstasy.

When she sensed that he was nearing the point of orgasm she 
stopped and stood up.  He groaned in frustration at the 
removal of pleasure, and looked up at her, his eyes 
pleading.  She looked down at him with her hands on her 
hips, and grinned mischievously.

"Well," she said, "since you were the winner, I have a 
special prize for you.  So come with me..."  She took his 
hands and pulled him off the couch and led him to the 
massage table, where he was made to lie down on his back 
with his wrists strapped at his sides.

"We're going to have a little picture show," she said, "one 
that I think you will really, really like!"  She walked 
over to her table and returned carrying two pillows and her 
laptop computer.  Placing the laptop on Thomas's chest, she 
arranged the pillows under his head and shoulders so that 
he could see the display screen.  Then she pressed a key on 
the computer's keyboard, and a slideshow began, of the 
image files she had prepared earlier on the CD.  She smiled 
at Thomas's sudden intake of breath when he saw the first 
picture.

"My, she's pretty, isn't she?" Anita whispered into his 
ear.  "Such a sweet smile, and such a pretty little dress.  
I wonder if she's all dressed up for a party."  The 
pictures advanced automatically, and Anita watched with 
Thomas, whispering softly to him.

"Oh my, look!  Her skirt has gone up a little.  Doesn't she 
have pretty legs?  How old would you say she is?"  Thomas 
didn't answer; he licked his lips and began to perspire.  
The picture changed again.

"Ooooo, her skirt has gone up more!  You can see her little 
panties now, can't you?  You know what I think?  I think 
she's teasing you on purpose, Thomas - what do you think?  
Such a naughty little girl!"  Thomas was panting now, and 
his fingers were flexing as he automatically tried to move 
his hands to his aroused penis.  But the straps on his 
wrists made this impossible.

"Awww, poor Thomas!  Were you trying to touch yourself?  
But you know that's not allowed, you bad boy.  You've got 
to learn to control those nasty urges of yours, or you'll 
get yourself in trouble again."  She reached under the 
table and produced an old-fashioned furniture duster, made 
of extremely soft and fluffy feather down.  "I know pretty 
little girls like her make you want to touch, Thomas..." - 
she drew the feather duster up between his legs, over his 
balls and up his quivering erection - "but you have to 
learn to control those desires, don't you?  No matter how 
good it feels to touch, you must never, never do it..."  She 
continued moving the fluffy feathers up and down his 
agonized cock, teasing, tantalizing, frustrating...  "Feel 
that?" she whispered softly.  "It feels so good, doesn't 
it?  Well, that's a no-no, Thomas; we have to train you to 
do without that."

The picture changed again, and Thomas moaned and whimpered 
in frustration.

"Oh, now I know she's teasing you on purpose, Thomas!  Look 
at how she's spreading her legs!  And her panties are so 
tight - I bet you wish she didn't have them on, don't you?  
And I bet she knows you're wishing that, too."  The 
feathers continued to flutter around the head of his rigid, 
quivering cock.

"I wonder if her parents know that she's posing like this," 
Anita said, disapprovingly.  "They must not know how 
pictures like this affect men like you, Thomas," she said 
sadly, "how they get you all excited and wanting something 
that you can never have."  She moved down to his lap and 
looked at his erection.  "Or maybe," she said, "maybe they 
know exactly what it does to you..."  She began to run her 
fingertips lightly and rapidly all over his genitals, 
following the contours of his cock and balls as if she were 
molding their shape and size out of the air, touching him 
everywhere, but lightly, lightly.  "Maybe this is just how 
they want your cock to be when you look at their little 
girl, Thomas.  They want you to get excited and 
masturbating while you look at her - but we're going to 
fool them, aren't we Thomas?  No matter how much she teases 
you, you're not going to touch yourself, are you?"

The picture changed, and Thomas stared at it hungrily and 
groaned in frustration, while Anita continued to whisper 
softly into his ear.

"Ohhh, Thomas, look at her now, look at how she's posing 
for you!  She really knows what you want, doesn't she?"  
The feather duster was again being drawn slowly up between 
his legs, brushing his inner thighs.  "She's so young, but 
she's such a clever little tease, isn't she?  Look at her, 
Thomas - I want you to remember how pretty and exciting she 
is, and at the same time I want you to remember this..." The 
soft, downy feathers came brushing up the underside of his 
cock, and remained fluttering around and around the 
engorged tip, tantalizing it and driving it mad with 
fleeting wisps of pleasure.

"Mmmm, doesn't that feel good, Thomas?  When you look at 
pretty little girls like her I want you to remember how 
good this feels, and how much you need it.  Doesn't it make 
you want her even more?  Well, that's why you can't have 
it, Thomas.  The more excited you get looking at little 
girls, and the more you suffer thinking about this pleasure 
that you can't have, the stronger you will become.  That's 
your treatment, Thomas; that's why you've come to me."

Anita pressed a key on the computer and the slide show 
ended.  She removed the CD and slid into an envelope, then 
shut the laptop and put it back into her tote bag.  
Returning to Thomas, she freed him from his restraints and 
watched him as he began to dress.

"Here's what we're going to do," she said, coming up behind 
him and pressing herself against his back.  She reached 
around him and handed him the envelope.  "You're going to 
have a homework assignment!  This CD has more pictures of 
that naughty girl, and lots of other girls, too, doing all 
sorts of exciting things for you to watch. You're going to 
take it home and put it on your computer.  Get yourself 
really turned on."  She moved a hand down and held his 
cock.  "But you can't touch this, Thomas - just watch it 
get hard while the girls tease it.  It'll drive you crazy, 
honey.  But that's the idea - you have to learn to be 
strong, remember?  It's all part of your treatment.  And 
tomorrow come back to me, and while you're telling me all 
about how the girls made you feel, I'll touch you just the 
way you need."

Thomas took the CD from her, and continued to fumble with 
his clothing.  Anita came around to face him and watched 
with amusement.  Just as he was about to zip up his pants 
she interrupted him, gently moving his hand away from the 
zipper.

"Here, let me," she said.  She got down on her knees in 
front of him and gently pulled his penis out through the 
fly of his boxers, its erection finally subsided.  Holding 
it up, she leaned forward and gave it a soft, delicate 
kiss.  It was starting to swell again as she replaced it in 
his pants and pulled up the zipper.  She stood up and gave 
his crotch a gentle pat.

"There," she said, smiling.  "Now it's time for you to go 
home."

* * * * *

Anita was thinking back on the past week, and forward to 
the coming school year, as she turned onto her street on 
the way home.  She thought of Thomas and smiled.  It wasn't 
that she had forgotten to tell him that this was her last 
day at Gentle Hands; he just didn't have a need to know, 
that was all.  He would find out soon enough when he came 
looking for her tomorrow.  He'll probably come back day 
after day looking for her, but she'd never be there.  I 
wonder what that will do to him, she thought to herself.  
Will the stress result in the blooming of some new facet of 
his complex?  It would be interesting to know, if she ever 
saw him again.  Well, at least he'll have the CD to keep 
him company - those girls will really do a number on him.  
He'll be masturbating non-stop before too long.  I wonder 
if he'll get into trouble with the police again - must 
remember to check the papers.  Interesting case; I'll have 
to tell John about it.  Maybe someday I'll write an article 
about it for a journal.

The Fleury courtyard was quiet as she crossed it.  All the 
surrounding windows were dark, but moonlight bathed the 
fountain and the garden.  A glint caught her eye, and she 
looked up.  Something was extending upward from an open 
window.  She smiled in recognition - a telescope.

In her apartment, she turned on the light between her bed 
and the window, and drew the curtains apart.  She pushed 
open the casement and looked down into the courtyard.  Then 
she turned and headed for the bathroom.

Five minutes later she emerged with a towel wrapped around 
her, holding another with which she was vigorously drying 
her hair.  She walked to the open window and stood before 
it, looking out into the darkness.  She continued drying 
her hair for another minute, then tossed the wet towel 
aside.  The towel that was wrapped tightly around her just 
barely contained her breasts, starting an inch above her 
nipples and extending only to the tops of her thighs.  
Closing her eyes, she lifted her arms and stretched 
luxuriously, smiling out into the night.  Then, crossing 
her arms in front of her chest, she grasped the top of the 
towel and slowly unwrapped it from her body, leaving her 
completely nude in front of the open window.  She lifted 
her arms again and yawned as she continued her pleasurable 
stretching.

With a contented sigh, she dropped her arms to her sides.  
She looked down at her voluptuous breasts, enjoying the 
caresses of the night breeze that roused her small, pink 
nipples.  Her hands moved up and she squeezed her breasts 
gently, closing her eyes in sensuous pleasure.  She fondled 
herself slowly, feeling her contours from underneath, 
lifting her firm globes and squeezing them together, then 
separating them as her hands moved up between them and 
closed on her erect nipples to give each a gentle pinch.  
They responded by becoming yet more erect and tumescent, 
small strawberries nestled on puffy pink cushions.

She looked out into the night and smiled, licking her lips 
lasciviously as she moved her hands down her sides and over 
her hips.  Her hands came together between her legs, and 
fingers slowly traced along the creases between her thighs 
and her downy vulva, framing her mound and pouting lips.  
Looking down at herself, she parted her labia to reveal her 
tiny glistening clitoris peeking out at the top.  With the 
middle finger of her left hand, she began to caress this 
bud of pleasure in slow, tantalizing circles, while her 
right hand returned to lift and squeeze her breasts, 
passing back and forth from one to the other.  She closed 
her eyes, and soon she was moaning in passion, her face 
displaying an expression of helpless pleasure and urgency.  
Her left hand continued to massage her clitoris with 
increasing speed, and her right returned to between her 
legs, where she inserted a finger between her lips into the 
moist cavern of her pussy.  Her mouth fell open as her 
finger plunged in and out of her dripping passage, while 
her left hand increased the speed of its assault on her 
ravished clitoris.  Soon she was crying out in the throes 
of orgasm, and grasping herself between her legs with both 
hands.  When it was over she raised her arms and clenched 
her fists behind her head, looking upward while her breasts 
heaved with her panting breath.  Finally she lowered her 
arms and smiled dreamily out into the night.  Stepping 
back, she closed the curtains, turned out the light, and 
slipped into her bed.

She smiled to herself as she drifted towards sleep.  "Men," 
she murmured dreamily. "Just like little boys..."  And then 
she was asleep.

* * * * *

"Pierre?  Mon enfant, are you all right?"  Madame Fleury 
was outside her son's bedroom door.

"Oui, Maman - I ... I'm OK."

"Oh," she replied uncertainly.  "I heard a sound - I 
thought you cried out."

"I - I think maybe I had a dream, Maman.  I'm all right."

"Well, go back to sleep, then," she said.  "And this time 
just sweet dreams!  Good night, chéri, je t'aime."

"Good night, Maman - I love you too."

Pierre settled into bed, pulling the covers back up, and 
resolved to remain quiet.  Then he closed his eyes, and his 
small, gentle hands resumed their play.
 
-----------
If you would like to comment on this story, you may reach 
the author at cn_tz@yahoo.ca

