Esther and I entered the largest of the three bathrooms on the base floor. It was where we stored the massage table that we had acquired last month. It was a foldable construction of grey-painted steel and reddish-brown leather. The colours worked nicely with the gothic style of the bathroom. The floor was one continuous, smooth stone surface of light grey, the furniture was red-trimmed black. Only the porcelain of the toilet, sink, and bathtub were white. Everything about this had that typical Welldark aesthetic.

The door was locked, the room had no windows, and so Esther was as comfortable revealing herself as she ever could be. The casual clothes she wore around the house in this climate were few. The yoga pants were the first to go, a wiggling process that she deliberately underwent with her back turned towards me. When tight legwear was pulled over a juicy ass, it truly was a motion of pure beauty. The waistband continuously pressed into the flesh, creating a notable depression. Even as the cloth wrinkled, the thickness of her thighs kept it taut around them. Only past the knees, did it slacken enough that it finally fell without further issues.

The panties were pulled down swiftly, revealing her pretty pink pussy and tight asshole. There was not a hair anywhere on her body. All of her was smooth. She wiggled her butt, bending her legs in that enticing fashion, while she pushed her panties to her ankles and then stepped out of them.

One last article of clothing was left. Straightening up, turning towards me, she grabbed the lower edge of her shirt. With a small smile playing around her lips, the lady of my love teasingly pulled it up. She stopped when she hit the underboob of her clearly braless chest. Just for me, she jiggled them with the rolled up fabric. Their incredible size rippled with each little motion. It took barely anything to make them bounce and the deliberate efforts were downright mouth-watering.

Torturously slowly, she resumed the pull upwards. Bit for bit, the naked softness of her tits became visible. The edge of the shirt made it up and up, the immensity of her breasts was pushed up and up, until the proverbial dam broke and they bounced to freedom. Rippling from their own weight, the boobs dropped and jiggled, distracting me from what I was doing with my hands.

While I had observed my Esther disrobing, I had not just gawked like the lovestruck pervert that I was, I had also unfolded the massage table. All that remained to do now was to push the head piece into the slots at one end. It was a ring of leather with an empty centre, letting one lie on their chest without having to awkwardly find the best way to angle their head.

I carried the massage table to a place close to the sink. The primary reason for that was the nearby stand, on which we had several bottles of massage oil. We had standard, herbal infused, scented, and now aphrodisiac oil. The knowledge I had gained making the last of those four would let me create the other three as well, by filtering out the enchanted properties.

Before we went to the main course, Esther’s hands found their way under my shirt and glided over my abs. The caress was short-lived, as she yearned to see me stripped more than she wanted to feel me up. Quickly, my shirt sailed to the ground. Esther unbuckled the front of my pants. She only kept the following removal of my clothes slow because any rapid movements may have painfully pulled at my prominent erection.

Truthfully, getting me naked wasn’t necessary for what happened next. We had just found that my trousers needed more thorough washing if I kept them on during these massage sessions. “Alright, no more waiting,” I declared, after Esther took a moment to gather and orderly fold my clothes. “Get on the table, my hands cannot be without contact with your nubile form any longer.”

“I will oblige.” Esther, giving my erection a playful brush in passing, climbed on the massage table. Customarily, she turned onto her chest. Her upper torso was lifted notably by the twin mounds, now squished on the leather. Such was their immensity, that I could see a notable amount of them even while standing at the footrest, spilling left and right past her torso.

The temptation to forego the massage and pump a few loads into her was immense – as it always was when I gave us this treat. I controlled myself. The proper art to massaging, especially the kind I was going to give her, was to forget one’s own demands for pleasure for the moment and focus entirely on giving the partner the best, relaxing experience they could have. Giving a message and being a dom were similar in that way. My hands could go wherever they wanted, I was in control, but that control required a restraint on my desires.

I grabbed the bottle of aphrodisiac oil and liberally squirted it on Esther’s back. It was a drug, of sorts, but it was an alchemical one and those always had odd effects. Basically, although an aphrodisiac, using more of it barely did anything to increase the effect. There was a threshold past which it no longer did anything but lengthen the effect. At the same time, an alchemical aphrodisiac was dissolved inside the body not by means of chemical procedures (not primarily at least) but rather, it was the act of orgasming that diminished the effect.

A fantastic innovation all around.

Drops of oil began to run down the sides of her torso, when I deemed I had enough to start with. The bottle was put aside and my hands went onto her upper back. I felt the tingle of the aphrodisiac's effect on my hands, and, from there, a pleasant warmth quickly spread through my own body. I lightly jumped, when the effect reached my groin, a sensation akin to stepping into a warm pool. It would make it harder to concentrate on selflessness, but I had a feeling that I would be reimbursed one way or another.

With great veneration, I began my work. Symmetrically, I moved my hands over her upper back. The pinkish tint of the liquid was lost, as it was spread out as thin film over her smooth skin. I felt the small bumps of her scars as I moved repeatedly over them. To the best of my ability, I paid them no mind. To acknowledge them right now was useless. It was her muscles, the manifestation of her discipline under that well-maintained exterior, that I needed to pay heed to.

Before I got to anything sexy, the proper places to start were her upper back, her shoulders, and her neck – all of those areas that continuously carried the burden of those two wonderful melons she was currently resting on. Considering she was carrying around my property all day, for that was what those breasts were nowadays, it was only fair that I reimbursed her for the trouble by kneading her sore muscles. A truly selfless act, that I just so happened to enjoy thoroughly.

Once her neck was loosened, her shoulders soft, and her back relaxed, I squirted some more oil on her and continued on with her arms. There was a hint of a tan line on her. By some arcane measure, she was always evenly coloured - and it wasn’t naked sunbathing. I would have caught her doing that by now.

One arm, then the other, I covered from shoulders to fingertips in oil. I did it quickly and properly, with well-studied movements born from my thorough enthusiasm for the female form. The next part, I took more time for. Another fresh bit of oil and I was onto her legs.

There was so much to work there. Thighs, relaxed and lying flat on a table, were a special piece of art. Right above them, her bubble butt, lying still and juicy. I couldn’t help myself and ran both hands over those twin hills. Every bit of pressure I exercised on them created deep depressions in the twin hills. I went flat over them, over the sides, and through the valley between them, turning them into glistening marbles of creation.

I knew she enjoyed it when I worshipped her butt, so taking a prolonged pause there wasn’t just for me. Pushing my thumbs into the crease between the butt and the thighs, I framed her ass between my hands and pushed the twin hills together. Then, I softly shook the entirety of her derriere, watching each little motion ripple through the entirety of her juicy ass.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“How could something this erotic possibly exist?” I bowed down and gave her ass cheeks a kiss each. The lady of my love let out a dreamy giggle.

Down her left thigh, my path took me. My thumbs barely touched, when I had made it down to her knee, and parted again when I made it back up to keep spreading the oil evenly all over her. The perfect mixture of fat and muscle rolled under my hands and trembled for a little bit when I suddenly let go. A little bit more fresh oil and I worked down her other thigh.

The work on her lower legs and feet was less exciting, yet rewarding all the same. All I required to work her feet was the pleased sighs she let out when I rubbed the soles. Once I had completed turning those muscles as tender as was possible, I let my hands go back up her legs. I spread some more oil on and between her round cheeks. Then I took a step back.

Esther’s excited breathing was the primary sound in the room. In the absence of my touching, she wiggled seductively. I wondered what kind of expression she was making at the moment. From the sounds of it, she was exhaling a lot from her mouth, so I could imagine her red lips parted. In my mind’s eye, my dick was sliding between them and she took it all inside not just effortlessly, but with great joy.

Much as I loved the fantasy, I had no use getting lost in it when I had the genuine article to please. My pause was entirely in service of grabbing one of the butt plugs that had been orderly and unashamedly lined up on the stand. I grabbed the smallest one. At its thickest, it was barely more than my pinky and not much longer either. It looked tiny to me even as a start.

‘I’m not the one who will receive, so what do I know,’ I chided myself and returned. “Alright, get ready,” I warned Esther, who raised her butt to allow me easier access. I could see both her thoroughly oiled sphincter and her glistening pussy lips. The latter may have seen some excess oil running down to it. That was not enough to explain the sheer wetness on display, however.

I put the tip of the butt plug against her sphincter and gently pushed. Thin as it was, and lubricated as she was, it slipped in practically without issue. Soon, the round base was all that was visible. “It’s… interesting,” Esther moaned, her butt sinking back down. She shifted left and right a bit, testing the feeling of the foreign object inside her. “I do like the sensation.”

“I do love to hear that,” I said encouragingly, gliding two fingers over the butt plug and down to her cunt. Those same two fingers curved inside her, coaxing a much greater moan from her.

Slow and steady, I fingered her cunt, while moving my left hand all over her back. Wherever a muscle twitched from the rising pleasure, I was quick to give it tender attention. Whenever there was nothing but her moans, I was kneading her splendid derriere and giving it playful little taps, to make it jiggle. As much as I would have loved to properly spank her, it wouldn’t have lent itself to the mood.

I knew how long Esther usually needed to orgasm from this treatment. The aphrodisiac cut that time by about a quarter. The tender wiggling of my fingers, more of a massage of her insides than proper masturbation, accelerated rapidly, just like her breathing did. I could practically count by her gasps how much longer she had until she came. I was only one breath off.

Her ass bucked off the massage table, rising several centimetres in the air in all of its glistening, round glory. My fingers kept working her cunt. Folds tightened and relaxed all around them. Gradually, I slowed, letting her orgasm ease off. Relaxation was the goal for now. Ecstasy was for later.

I went back to massaging her back, while the trembles of her afterglow ebbed away. ‘She looks incredible.’ The thought surfaced on its own, as I witnessed her occasionally shivering, glistening form. It was impossible to get enough of it. Squeezing her magnificent backside one more time, I enjoyed it while it was within reach. “Turn around,” I said, after I had felt what I wanted to feel in firm softness.

Esther shuffled around, moving in that groggy way only drunk and entranced people could. Once on her back, one of her hands absent-mindedly crept towards her crotch. Gently but firmly, I took it and moved it to her side, where it stayed. Then, I grabbed the bottle with the pinkish oil again, squirting a considerable amount of it onto Esther’s midriff. She pulled one of her legs in, as the sensation of the tingling liquid made her gasp with heavenly softness.

I appreciated the front of her curves as I spread the glisten to them. Relaxed as she was, the soft definition of her flat stomach was less visible than usual. Only when a little spasm went through her, an aftershock of the last orgasm, or a little progress towards the next, could I see the full glory of her fit midriff, all shiny in the artificial light coming from above.

Taking the path down, I oiled up what little of her legs was not fully covered yet. A fantastic excuse to grab her meaty thighs again. Up and down, with slow, appreciative movements, I rubbed her legs one after the other. Little sighs escaped her. Her butt wiggled left to right on the lubricated massage table. Tiny motions, still impossible to miss

I was tempted to pour a little more of the oil directly onto her slightly agape pussy and repeat, with great fervour, the service I had given her minutes ago. There was, however, another option to make her orgasm again. Before we got there, I could tease her a little more.

I went to her arms. Spending a fair bit of time massaging her palms and oiling up the limbs in their entirety, I followed the constant rise and fall of her chest. Her breasts and face were all that did not glisten yet. The latter was out of the realm of this massage, but the former was my final and clear target.

Done with both arms, I took the two steps towards the head end of the massage table. The lady of my love had her eyes closed, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth at a steady pace. Her dark hair was loosely tucked underneath her. My cock ached with the need to see her suck it. A fantastic opportunity to distract myself was before me. Two fantastic opportunities, to be exact.

One more load of oil, I poured over her collarbones. Then I put both of my hands around the upper edge of her boobs. Bending over her, I pushed forwards. Juicy flesh was squeezed and emphasized by the pressure of my massage, until the firmness of her tits prevented them from ‘flowing’ any further away from me and the jiggly mass surfaced where my hands had slid past.

Quiet gasps escaped Esther, growing more intense with each moment my palms methodically glided over her hard, pink nipples. Once at the underside, my hands moved in a heart-shaped motion around her breasts. Every bit of force exerted shifted the position of the delectably soft mounds. When I was back by a collarbone, they naturally resumed a ‘flat’ resting position. Of course, there was nothing truly flat about the twin hills, their soft rise spilling past the boundaries of her torso.

Only marvelling for a moment, I soon let my hands travel back up, this time through the valley of her cleavage. Spreading more oil to her under and side boob, I repeated the heart-shaped path again. I did this over and over again, slightly alternating my path forwards each time, making sure all of her magnificent bosom glistened like the rest of her body.

I did not stop when I was done. Esther’s moans remained quiet, yet also grew more heated. Her breasts were jiggling mounds of goodness and they were also exceedingly sensitive. Once more, her hand crept towards her cunt. I did not stop her, I was too occupied with indulging both of us by flicking her nipples. Halting on her own accord, she only rubbed her lower abdomen, denying herself the full pleasure of masturbation.

Trembling, spine arching, she writhed more and more with each passing minute. I sometimes stopped working her breast, to feel her midriff or massage her neck. At all times, I returned to her breasts swiftly. The suspension grew, her relaxed muscles tensed, until all of her seized up and then released.

Intense breathing caressed my shaft, as Esther enjoyed her second, gentle climax. She barely spasmed or shifted at all, the pleasure she experienced was doubtlessly of a mellow variety, fitting for the tantric massage.

“Mhmmm,” she moaned, mouth closed, as the peak was left behind. Lying there, she continued to enjoy my touch for half a minute. Then, I heard her whisper my name, “…Karitas…”

I took half a step back, so I could see her face. Her eyes were open and glassy. In them reflected the intense relaxation she experienced and an effort to refocus herself. The latter was unwanted in this situation, a good massage was defined by the recipient getting to let go of all earthly burdens for a little while. “Is something the matter, Esther?” I therefore asked, eager to read every last wish of those luscious red lips of hers.

Focusing on them was a mistake. The gorgeous red glistened in the moist, warm air of the bathroom. Slightly parted they formed her every exhale into a sensuous sound. They looked soft and many a contact had confirmed to me just how soft. The upper lip was a swung work of art, the lower a pillow I loved to bite so softly.

Laying there, upside down from my perspective by the headrest, all of her was a glistening work of art. From the immense rise of her breasts, still jiggling with the occasional spasm, over her thin waist, down to her broad hips that her bubble butt currently flattened on the surface of the lounger like a particularly fluffy pancake. I wanted to devour all of her.

“I have resolved to give you what you want.” Esther visibly swallowed, then continued. “Yet, I lack the confidence to repay your massage properly… I leave it to you, to ease me into this new sensation. You may use my mouth, my Karitas.”