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  1. The Education of Mrs. Jones (Part 1)
  2. The Education of Mrs. Jones (Part 2)

The Education of Mrs. Jones (Part 2)

Categories Fantasy, Lesbian, massage, Masturbation

Authror: Pasego

Published: 16 February 2018

  • Font:

The following Saturday afternoon arrived with surprising swiftness, and Lydia found herself once again outside Le Spa Serenite. Mark had asked her how her massage had been, and when she admitted that it had been very relaxing (omitting of course her two orgasms) he had ribbed her mercilessly.

“I told you!” he crowed, a huge grin threatening to split his face in two. She had looked at his boyishly handsome face and smiled in spite of herself. He had told her, and he had been right. But he couldn’t possibly know just how “relaxed” she had found herself. She wondered uneasily how he would feel if she admitted that another person, a woman, had given her an orgasm, albeit unintentionally. After struggling with her conscience, she had decided that telling him would only complicate something that had been, after all, an accident. She hadn’t engaged in sexual relations, and the event wasn’t likely to happen again.

She stepped into the foyer and was greeted once again by the receptionist. After accepting another glass of champagne, John came to collect her and ushered her to room 23 once again. Lydia’s heartbeat kicked up a notch as she entered the room. Olivia smiled as soon as she saw her.

“Lydia, so nice to see you again! I’ll step out so you can undress. I assume you remember the “drill” from last week?”

Lydia smiled nervously and nodded. Once Olivia had stepped into the bathroom, Lydia hurriedly stripped, placed her clothes on the chair, and lay face down on the table. She was just pulling the covers over her backside when Olivia gave a soft knock and walked in.

“Let me help you,” she said, taking fabric and smoothing it up Lydia’s body to her shoulder blades. Lydia fought a blush. After all, the woman hadn’t seen anything new.

She allowed herself a peek at Olivia, and noticed that the uniform blouse she was wearing today showed a great deal of tan cleavage. Though she had never been attracted to another woman before, she found herself wanting to cup those twin globes in her hands, to feel their softness and possibly help them out of the straining bra cups that held them in check. Suddenly she realized that Olivia was looking at her, and she turned her face, mortified that she had been caught staring. Was it her imagination, or did she see the smallest glimmer of self-satisfaction in the other woman’s eyes?

Without a word, Olivia started her massage, rubbing the same sweet smelling oil into her shoulders with slow, sensuous strokes. Lydia admitted to herself that she could get used to this whole massage thing; it was certainly relaxing.

Her breathing slowed and she was on the verge of drifting off when Olivia’s warm hands started massaging her bottom again. Lydia immediately became alert, the sensation going straight to her core. Was it just her or was Olivia taking longer with that area this time around? It wasn’t just her. After at least five minutes of manipulating her ass, Olivia asked her to turn onto her back. This was completely different from last time, but Lydia suddenly wanted very much to see where this was going.

Once she was settled on her back, Olivia replaced the sheet and once again wrapped warm towels around her feet. Lydia was treated to more scalp massage, and hummed quietly in pleasure. While it was relaxing, it was also stimulating, and her pussy still throbbed quietly.

When Olivia set the brush down, Lydia’s heart started to gallop in her chest. She knew what was coming next. Gently Olivia lowered her sheet, exposing her breasts, which immediately puckered. Freshly oiled hands descended and cupped her twin mounds, just resting there until Lydia wanted to squirm. Slowly, so slowly, Olivia moved her hands, kneading Lydia’s tender flesh and pinching her nipples ever so slightly. Lydia managed to keep a loud moan from escaping her mouth but couldn’t stop her ragged breathing. It wasn’t possible Olivia could be unaware of the effect she was having on her client.

The breast massage lasted at least ten minutes, and Lydia thought she might go crazy if she didn’t get some relief soon. Her whole body tingled and every light brush of her nipples sent an arrow of pure pleasure shooting to her pussy. Finally the agony/ecstasy ended and Olivia moved further down the table, gently moving Lydia’s right leg and draping the sheet so that it barely covered her groin.

She didn’t cover my breasts! Lydia thought with a start, but before she could voice a protest, her therapist started those deceptive circles on her leg again, moving closer and closer to her inner thigh and throbbing mound. Almost against her will, Lydia found herself arching her back slightly, willing those deft fingers to brush against her center. Olivia seemed in no hurry though, leisurely re-draping her leg and moving around the bed to her other leg. Lydia wanted to scream in frustration. She needed release badly, but couldn’t exactly ask Olivia for help.

Luckily, she realized that the other woman was uncovering her left leg and thigh, the material moved in such a way that it almost pressed into her sensitive mound. Lydia couldn’t take it anymore and closed her eyes, panting quietly as Olivia once again made her way up to her inner thigh.

Finally, the moment she’d been waiting for happened. Olivia’s thumb, by accident or design, caressed the top of her mound, right over her throbbing clit. Lydia couldn’t hold in the cry that escaped her lips as her release washed over her, causing her back to arch as she clenched the sheets with both hands.

Coming down from her high, Lydia didn’t even have the strength to feel embarrassed. She was almost positive the massage therapist had been completely aware of what her actions would achieve, but she didn’t feel brave enough to accuse her outright.

It didn’t help that except for a suspicious twinkle in her eye, Olivia was giving nothing away. She placed a glass of water next to Lydia’s head and repeated her monologue from last week. When she was gone, Lydia slowly sat up and drank her water. She eyed the bathroom door. Yes, I want that.

Getting up from the table, she scooped up her clothes and walked into the bathroom. The tub was ready for her and she wasted no time getting into it, sinking down into the warm water until her bottom rested on the seat. Without opening her eyes, she reached for the timer by her head and gave it a careless turn.

Immediately the jets sputtered to life, and the stream between her legs hit pleasantly against her mound.

Lydia’s urgency was more acute this time, no doubt brought on by her recent experience. She let the water hit her clitoris and came almost immediately, riding the waves of pleasure until she felt wrung out. When she could breathe normally, she reluctantly left the tub and dressed, finding her way to the front lobby with more confidence than she had on her last visit.

The receptionist looked up from her computer. “Same time next week, Mrs. Jones?”

Lydia dug out her date book. “Actually, I was hoping for something midway through the week, Wednesday or Thursday? As long as Olivia is available.”

The woman clicked at her computer. “Olivia has an opening Wednesday at five. Would that work for you?”

Lydia agreed that indeed, that would work for her just fine, and made her way to the car. She drove home, trying hard not to analyze this new and unexpected part of her life. She was fairly sure that she was straddling the fine line of adultery, but couldn’t bring herself to admit that what she was doing was betraying Mark in any way. Guiltily, she decided that she would make it up to him somehow. No, not somehow her subconscious asserted. You know exactly how.

She pulled into the driveway of their modest townhome and walked through the door. Her nose was immediately assaulted by something savory. Mark was in the kitchen, making grilled chicken marinated in some sort of wine sauce. “Hey, pretty lady,” he said, giving her a kiss. “Another successful massage therapy session?”

Fighting her blush, she kissed him back deeply. “Very successful,” she asserted, and his eyes widened slightly.

“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” she answered sweetly. “Just my handsome husband making dinner. I hope you haven’t got plans for dessert though, because I thought something else could be on the menu.”

Mark’s eyes widened almost comically, and Lydia couldn’t blame him. While she enjoyed sex with her husband, she was usually pretty prudish when it came to foreplay; and she had never been the one to initiate intimacy before.

When dinner was ready they sat down at the table. Lydia sipped her wine and ate slowly, enjoying the way Mark kept slanting sidelong glances at her as he shoveled his food into his mouth, barely tasting it.

She leaned forward, trying to reach the pepper grinder in the middle of the table, aware she could have asked Mark to pass it to her, but also aware that her breasts now strained against her white blouse.

Managing to snag the appliance, she leisurely twisted it, running her hand up and down the smooth wood as provocatively as she was able. She wasn’t well-practiced in the art of seduction, but she knew she had hit her mark so to speak when her Mark dropped his fork with a clatter. Abruptly he pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Bedroom, now.” he ground out.

Lydia feigned surprise, “we’re still eating dinner.”

Mark narrowed his eyes at her but smiled wolfishly, enjoying the game. “If you eat too much dinner, you won’t have any room left for dessert.” He grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the chair. Kissing her deeply, he finally broke away and looked into her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Lydia, but I want to take full advantage of it.”

Clasping her hand he led her to the bedroom. Lydia stopped inside the door, not allowing him to pull her to the bed. Instead she told him to stand still. He had gone running earlier and was still dressed for it; Lydia was glad she wouldn’t have to fumble with buttons and belts. She pulled his shirt over his head, Mark helping her when it got tangled around his shoulders. Then, while he looked on in lust and disbelief, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her head was now level with the straining bulge in his shorts.

Lydia grabbed the waistband of his shorts and pulled them gingerly down, taking his boxers with them and freeing his considerable erection. Cupping him gently, she ran her hands along his smooth length while he groaned. She hadn’t given him many blowjobs, it wasn’t her favorite sexual activity, but a mixture of guilt and latent wantonness spurred her on. Looking up at him, she slipped the head of his penis into her mouth, sucking lightly as she continued to stroke him with her hand.

Shuddering, he grabbed the back of her head, forcing himself deeper into her mouth. Lydia fought against her gag reflex and allowed her muscles to relax, moving her head back and forth while her husband groaned deep in his throat.

“Lydia,” he gasped, “Lydia, I’m going to come in your mouth if you don’t stop.”

In the past she had stopped, either finishing him with her hand or letting him find his release inside her. Tonight though, she wanted to go the extra mile for her man. Gripping his buttocks, she sucked harder, lightly dragging her teeth along the sensitive flesh as she continued to move her head back and forth. With a grunt Mark stiffened, jetting his seed into her mouth. She fought to swallow it, trying hard not to gag on the salty, slightly bleachy taste. Finally, he was spent, and she released his softening penis from her mouth.

When his breathing had somewhat returned to normal, Mark looked down at where Lydia still knelt on the floor, unabashed admiration in his eyes. “Would it be inappropriate to say thank you?”

Lydia smiled, extremely pleased with herself. “Maybe you can just show me how grateful you are.”

Mark grinned, and grabbing hold of Lydia’s hands, hauled her to her feet. For the next hour, he proceeded to do just that.

As Lydia drifted into a satisfied sleep, she thought to herself, I’m not sure who should be thanking whom!

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The Education of Mrs. Jones (Part 2)

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