The Oil Slick

The massage table creaked under me as I pressed my palms into the small of Lena’s back. She was wearing nothing but a black bikini bottom, the thin fabric cutting high across her hips, and I could see the tiny blonde hairs at the nape of her neck standing up from the humidity. Her skin smelled like coconut and something else—something warm and nervous.

“Is the pressure okay?” I asked, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.

“Mhmm.” She turned her head on the donut cushion, her cheek squished against the vinyl. “You can go harder, Mark. I’m not fragile.”

I’d been giving massages out of my home studio for three years, but Lena was different. She was my neighbor, the one who waved from her driveway every morning, the one whose husband worked late shifts. She was thirty-five, married, and right now she was half-naked on my table.

I poured more oil into my palm, watched it drip between my fingers. “Your shoulders are tight.”

“Tell me about it.” She laughed, a short, breathy sound. “Dave’s been working double shifts. I haven’t been touched in weeks.”

The words hung in the air. I worked the oil into her shoulder blades, felt the knots loosen under my thumbs. She let out a low moan, and my cock twitched in my shorts.

“That’s the spot,” she whispered.

I slid my hands down her spine, over the curve of her waist, stopping just above the waistband of her bikini. Her skin was slick and hot. I could see the outline of her pussy lips through the thin fabric, a dark triangle of moisture already blooming.

“You want me to keep going?” I asked.

She lifted her hips slightly, pressing her ass into my hands. “Don’t stop.”

I hooked my thumbs under the sides of her bikini bottom and pulled it down, slowly, watching the fabric peel away from her skin. She lifted her hips again, and I slid the damp cloth down her thighs until it pooled around her knees. Her pussy was bare, shaved smooth, the lips glistening with oil and her own wetness.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

“Yeah.” She spread her legs wider. “I’ve been thinking about this all week.”

I didn’t wait. I leaned down and ran my tongue flat against her slit, from her entrance up to her clit. She tasted like salt and oil and pure, raw woman. Her hips bucked against my face, and she grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling me deeper.

“Right there,” she gasped. “God, yes, right fucking there.”

I circled her clit with my tongue, then sucked it gently between my lips. She was shaking, her thighs trembling against my ears, and I could feel her getting wetter, the slickness coating my chin.

“I need you inside me,” she said, her voice strained. “Now.”

I stood up, fumbled with my shorts, and my cock sprang out, hard and slick with pre-cum. She rolled onto her back, her tits bouncing free from the bikini top she’d untied. Her nipples were hard, dark pink against her pale skin.

“Condom?” I asked.

“I’m on the pill. Just fuck me.”

I positioned myself between her legs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance. She was so wet that I slid in with one smooth push, burying myself to the hilt. She gasped, her back arching off the table, and her pussy clenched around me like a fist.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned. “You’re so thick.”

I started slow, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, watching her face contort with pleasure. Her mouth was open, her eyes half-closed, and she was biting her lower lip.

“Harder,” she said.

I grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, the table squeaking beneath us. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixed with her moans and my grunts. I could feel my balls tightening, the pressure building.

“Don’t come yet,” she said, her hand sliding down her belly to rub her clit. “I’m close.”

I leaned forward, my chest pressing against hers, and kissed her. She bit my lower lip, hard, and I thrust deeper, faster, losing all rhythm.

“I’m coming,” she gasped against my mouth. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m—”

Her body convulsed, her pussy milking my cock in hot, rhythmic pulses. That was all it took. I buried my face in her neck and came, pumping into her, my whole body shuddering.

We lay there for a long moment, panting, sweating, the oil making us slip against each other. The only sounds were our breathing and the faint hum of the ceiling fan.

Finally, she laughed, a low, satisfied sound. “I think I need to book a regular appointment.”

I pulled out slowly, watched my cum drip down her thigh. “I think you do.”