Work Text:
"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile
"I cast my spell of love on you, a woman from a child"
But try to understand, try to understand
Oh, oh, try, try, try to understand,
He's a magic man, oh, he's got the magic hands
~ “Magic Man” by Heart
Tim eyed the artsy, hipster clock hanging on the wall behind the reception desk. It was 4:22 p.m., damn near close to his last appointment for the day. He’d been squeezing a stress ball for the better part of an hour in an attempt to keep his fingers from cramping. He’d been hard at work all day, and no matter the comfort of the insoles of his shoes, he couldn’t ignore his aching feet either.
He absolutely despised growing older, not that he was old by any stretch, but when the majority of your coworkers were doe-eyed and fresh out of cosmetology school, you start to feel your age.
“What’re you doing this weekend?” Angela, his best friend and owner of the high - end spa, asked.
Tim shrugged. “Dodger game. Got decent tickets. Other than that, just running errands.” It’d be another weekend full of the mundane shit that no one liked about adulthood, like paying bills and grocery shopping.
“That sounds…absolutely boring,” Angela sighed. She sat in one of the office chairs behind reception, swinging restlessly from side to side.
“I like boring,” Tim replied. “Boring is safe.”
After two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, he’d take ‘boring’ any day of the week. Even if it did involve New Age nature music and handsy rich old ladies.
“Wes and I were thinking of taking Theo to the pier. You should come.”
Tim snorted. Santa Monica Pier was the last place he wanted to be on a weekend off. “No, thanks.”
“You’ll hurt your godson’s feelings,” Angela blinked, shooting him puppy dog eyes.
“My godson and I will hang out some other time,” Tim muttered, squeezing the stress ball in the opposite hand. “Who’s up next, by the way?”
Angela sat forward, clicking away on the computer mouse to check the appointment booking system. She stilled for a moment, then slowly smiled.
“Lucy Chen. She was a long time client of Smitty’s, but since he retired, you’ve inherited her.”
Ah yes, his coworker, Smitty. The eccentric massage therapist had retired a few weeks ago, and the entire time Tim had stayed at the party, he couldn’t help but wonder whether that would be him in another twenty-five years.
He hoped not.
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Tim asked, sifting through his mind to grasp the answer.
“She’s a singer,” Angela supplied. “Really big on the local club scene. I heard she just recorded an album that might finally be her big break. She also competed on American Idol a couple seasons ago.”
Tim remembered seeing the name “Lucy Chen” on several marquees while driving down Wilshire Boulevard over the past few months. He wasn’t in the habit of watching American Idol, though.
“She win?” he asked.
“Nah,” Angela sighed. “But she made it pretty far.”
Nice. Good for her.
A couple more minutes ticked by, and Tim began to wonder if Lucy Chen would even show. No skin off his nose, he’d just get to go home early.
However, before he could start planning his early escape, the front door opened and in walked Lucy Chen.
She was…absolutely beautiful. A wide-brimmed sun hat sat atop her long, dark brown locks, which were messily tangled in a side braid. As she stepped closer to the reception desk, she took off her sunglasses, revealing the most vibrant, fathomless brown eyes Tim had ever seen. A smile blazed across her face, brightening the room and causing something to twinge in Tim’s chest. She’d come prepared for a massage, wearing loose black yoga pants and a black spaghetti strap tank top with a gauzy, light shawl draped across her shoulders. She stuck her sunglasses in the bag she had slung over one shoulder, and Tim couldn’t help but notice the bright orange color of her painted toenails, as they contrasted perfectly with her simple black flip flops.
Not that Tim actually took notice of any of these things. Not at all.
“Hey, welcome back, Lucy,” Angela greeted her with a wide grin. Tim knew then that Lucy Chen was good people, as Angela had given her a real smile rather than the ‘customer service smile’ he was used to seeing.
“Hi, Angela. Good to be back,” Lucy said, her voice light, airy, yet still sultry. Tim could only imagine what she sounded like when she sang. “I was sorry to hear Smitty retired.”
“Yeah, we were sad to see him go,” Angela nodded, before typing away at the keyboard and clicking several buttons to confirm Lucy’s attendance. “But, I promise you’re in good hands.” Angela’s dark gaze slid over to him for a moment, clearly pleased with her intentional pun.
Tim raised an unamused eyebrow, then turned to his new client. “Afternoon, Ms. Chen. I’m Tim Bradford. I’ll be your massage therapist today.”
Lucy took his offered hand, and squeezed. Tim loved a good handshake, and Lucy Chen’s was far from horrible.
“Wow, quite a grip you’ve got there,” Lucy commented. Tim shouldn’t feel as smug as he did in that moment, but he kinda liked how impressed she seemed. “And it’s just Lucy.”
“You’re all checked in,” Angela announced. “Enjoy your massage, Lucy!”
Tim bid Lucy to follow him down a hallway painted in a soothing light blue. Toward the end of the hall, he slowed and motioned for Lucy to enter. He’d had the room prepped and ready to go with clean blankets , fresh towels, and his lotions and oils.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to get settled.” Tim spoke, his usual speech rolling off his tongue easily from so much use. “Remove as much of your clothing as you feel comfortable with. When you’re done, you can lay on your stomach under the blanket. I’ll be back, and then we can get started.”
Lucy, who had already set her bag down on a chair, nodded and removed her hat. Tim shut the door, and he walked back down the hall and around another corner to the employee break room. There, he took a few gulps from his water bottle and munched on a granola bar, since it would be a few hours before he’d be going home to eat dinner.
“She’s cute, huh?”
Tim looked up to see Angela standing in the doorway, a smirk curling at her lips.
“Yeah,” Tim shrugged, trying to act casual, like he wasn’t at all instantly physically attracted to the young singer. “You know, objectively speaking.”
“Well, objectively speaking, she’s single.”
“Okay,” Tim hummed, drawing out the syllables. “What do you want me to do about it? She’s a client. ”
Angela rolled her eyes to the ceiling, muttering words he couldn’t catch. Knowing her, and Tim did, she was either praying for God to strike him down for being stupid or praying for the strength to not do it herself.
“It’s not like you’re her teacher or something,” Angela huffed. “There’s no harm in asking her out for a date while you’re squaring her bill at the end of the appointment. You’re just giving her a massage, Bradford.”
“Sorry, Ange. I don’t make a habit of asking out clients,” Tim shrugged, putting his water bottle back in the refrigerator and the granola bar wrapper in the trash.
“I mean, I don’t blame you. Most of your clients are already married and older, desperate housewives.”
Tim snorted. “They’re good tippers, though.”
He scooted past Angela and took a few steps down the hall before her voice stopped him.
“Seriously, Tim. You’re my best friend. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. Especially after…” She trailed off.
“After what?” Tim urged, knowing the answer.
“After Isabel.”
Yes, the ex-wife that had dumped him for a clown.
He wished he was kidding. Isabel had left him for a Cirque du Soleil performer.
And yeah, maybe Angela was right. He did deserve to be happy, and there had been more than a few nights lately where Tim had been feeling his loneliness.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, Tim nodded, acknowledging Angela’s concern, then walked back down the hallway.
Once he reached the closed door, he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Tim raised his hand, rapping his knuckles against the door.
“Come in!” Lucy called from within.
Tim opened the door, quickly stepped inside, and shut it behind him. He busied himself by putting on the belt that held his lotion and oil, clicking the buckle in place and adjusting. He had resolutely not looked, but now he couldn’t avoid it.
Turning, Tim took in the form on his massage table. She’d done as he’d asked and lay face down with her head resting in the special headrest, her arms at her sides. She’d pulled the messy braid off her shoulder. The sheet sat low on her waist, revealing an expanse of smooth skin. A tattoo spanned from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, and Tim found himself stepping closer of his own accord to get a better look. She had several other smaller tattoos he caught glimpses of, but the one on her back was exquisite. He didn’t know the significance of the design, but it reminded him of a crown of some sort, something straight out of a fantasy novel. Another image hovered over it, whirling and looping across her skin.
“Um…” Tim cleared his throat, oh so eloquent. “How’s the temperature in the room? Are you comfortable?”
“It’s perfect,” Lucy said softly.
“G-Great.” Tim shook his head, wanting to sink right through the floor. “So, uh, where are your problem areas? Any specific places you’d like me to focus on?”
“I carry a lot of stress in my shoulders and neck,” Lucy said, shifting slightly on the table, causing the sheet to dip infinitesimally lower. “Also my thighs, weirdly enough.”
“Not entirely weird,” Tim replied, adjusting the sheet higher up her back. He felt a little better. “Stress is a weird thing.”
Lucy chuckled. “Tell me about it.”
“Right, so… please let me know if you’re at all uncomfortable throughout our session. If I press too hard or too rough, don’t hesitate to say something. This is supposed to be relaxing, not torturous.”
“It can’t be both?” Lucy asked.
Tim could absolutely not tell if she was joking. Or serious. Or a mixture of the two.
“I believe if that’s what you’re looking for Ms. Chen, you’re at the wrong club,” Tim deadpanned. When Lucy laughed, Tim felt himself finally relaxing back into what was familiar and routine. Since Lucy had arrived, he’d been feeling off-kilter. Now, he was starting to calm. “Alright, let’s get started. Would you like lavender lotion or lemongrass?”
Lucy hummed low in thought. “Lavender.”
“Good choice.”
Reaching down to his belt, he pumped a few globs of lotion into his hand and then spread it between both palms, warming it.
Tim started gently, smoothing his palms across her left shoulder and curling his fingers into the muscles there. He could feel the knots instantly, and to Lucy’s credit she didn’t immediately tense. Some weren’t used to a massage therapist’s touch and took about half the session to relax. But not Lucy.
When she offered no feedback, he pressed his thumbs a little harder into her scapular muscles. He heard her breath catch, and knew he was doing the right thing. He then moved down her arm, to her hands, pressing into her palm and working her fingers. After kneading those muscles, he slid his palm across her back to the other shoulder, arm, and hand, and repeated his manipulations.
“This feel okay?” He asked quietly.
“Mmmyeah,” Lucy breathed, and Tim should not find her little whine sexy. He swallowed around the sudden appearance of a lump in his throat, scared for what the rest of this session might bring.
They’d only just gotten started.
Tim fell into his groove, almost mechanical in his approach, but the warm feel of her skin beneath his touch only served to stoke something in his gut.
Professionalism, Bradford. Be a fucking professional.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Lucy asked, her voice slightly muffled from the face rest.
“You didn’t come here to chat with me. You came here to relax.”
“I guess I’m so used to Smitty gnawing my ear off.”
Tim shuddered at the literal image that conjured up.
“You should talk more,” Lucy sighed. Her words were low, gummy. Tim was obviously doing something right.
“Why’s that?” he asked, starting in on the column of her neck. More kinks there.
“Your voice…” His voice? What about hers? Husky and soft and damn near bedroom level. “…it’s nice. Soothing.”
“Thanks?”
“I guess it’s my job to know voices. Yours is…nice.”
“Yeah, you said that,” Tim said, slightly amused.
“Can’t think straight…your hands…”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tim finished with her neck and repositioned the sheet. He lifted the edge to just under the swell of her ass, revealing long legs and thick thighs.
Holy. Shit.
Her thighs.
Tim did not discriminate between ass and tits. He was an equal opportunity kind of guy. But he’d never gotten even slightly hard at the thought of a juicy set of thighs.
And yet, here he was, his dick starting to get just a little bit more of his blood supply.
No. No, no, no, no.
He wasn’t a perv. He did not even remotely allow himself to react this way with his clients, but then Lucy Chen had walked through those doors and apparently shot that all to shit.
He’d never been more turned on by the backs of someone’s legs ever. In his life.
Tim sucked in a breath, just like his therapist had taught him. In through the nose, hold it for a few seconds, and then out through the mouth. He did this as discreetly as he could while pretending to adjust something nearby.
When he stopped feeling like the world was going to tip upside down, he pressed out a few more pumps of the lavender lotion, and got to it.
The second his palms began transferring and spreading the lotion across her thighs, Lucy tensed for the first time. Tim froze.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
Lucy adjusted her position slightly, folding her arms and resting her head on them. “I-I’m fine. Please…don’t stop.”
Always willing to oblige a lady, Tim continued, fingertips kneading into the muscles of her thighs. She hadn’t been kidding earlier. Lucy Chen definitely held a lot of tension in her thighs, and Tim was only too happy to iron out the knots.
He really did have unshakeable morality and an air of detachment when it came to massage. It was, in Tim’s opinion, inherently sensual. So, one had to approach the job with the belief that it was just that, a job. Everyone had a body, and all bodies were different. Not all bodies were created equal, and there was true beauty in the uniqueness of each body. If only everyone were more accepting of this fact, the world would truly be a better place. So, Tim really did take pride in his professionalism, and normally didn’t even pay the body he was working on any mind.
This was different.
She was different.
And he couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t even begin to comprehend it himself. But if he wanted to be able to look himself in the eye next time he glanced in a mirror, he really needed to start pulling himself together. He needed to get a grip — on the situation.
“You can pr-- Auhhhhhh.”
Oh Dear God.
Tim’s hands stopped dead, his eyes wide in embarrassed horror. Lucy had stilled too, both of them holding their breath.
The situation below his waist had worsened at the utterance of the most exquisite sound he had ever heard in his life. His cock thickened at the pure musicality of the absolutely debauched moan Lucy had just let out.
Without realizing it, Tim had really dug into the meat of her thigh, up dangerously high near the crease where it met her ass. His pinky had curled around to her inner thigh of its own accord, thus the source of her moan, and he just might have to jump off a cliff now.
“I—” Tim stuttered.
“Er, sorry. That’s…embarrassing.” Lucy shoved her face into the face rest again, as if trying to hide.
“No!” Tim exclaimed. “Um, I mean…nothing to be embarrassed about. Purely normal response. Must be doing something right.” He tried to tack on that last sentence as a joke to lighten the mood, but her silence was not making him feel as though the joke had hit like he’d meant it to.
“I’ve not…I’ve never…um, let’s just pretend I didn’t do that.”
Tim tried not to chuckle, but really only because if he didn’t laugh he’d probably cry.
For the remainder of their session, Tim maybe went at three quarters of the pressure he normally would. He didn’t want to inadvertently trigger another one of those, mostly for her sake, so Lucy wouldn’t be embarrassed, and he wouldn’t chub up any further like a prepubescent boy having his first wet dream.
It was an exercise in strength when he had her turn over onto her back, because the swell of her breasts called to him like a siren’s song, as did the hardened nipples so clearly visible through the sheet. But, he was proud of himself. Tim kept his cool, and he finished out their hour by ending with her scalp.
“Okay. All set. I’ll leave you to get dressed. Take your time, and when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting at the front desk.”
Tim couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. He immediately made for the break room, washed his hands of the lavender, and hurried to the front desk. Angela had already gone home thirty minutes prior, which left him with the responsibility of closing out the spa. Normally, Tim wouldn’t have minded. It was rather soothing and unwinding to close out alone, with no one talking to or bothering him. But at the moment, he still had a problem with his cock, and he couldn’t do anything about it until it went away on its own.
Lucy appeared during his second round of breathing exercises. He forced on a smile, though the sight of her slightly rumpled form and lotion-coated skin did not help one bit. She looked like she’d just climbed out of his bed after a night of slow fucking. He could get hit by a bus on the way home and probably die happy.
“Did you want to schedule another appointment, or do you want to call later?” Tim asked. He hated using the booking system, but he’d withstand it if it meant he'd be able to see her again.
“Sure, how about two weeks from now?”
Lucy set her hat on the counter and reached into her bag. She pulled out her wallet while Tim scheduled her for the same time, two weeks out. Then, he squared up her bill. He noticed she’d left a very generous tip.
“Thank you, that was…very relaxing,” Lucy said. He hated that her smile seemed forced, but she was coming back, so at least there was that.
“I’m very glad. If there’s anything you need me to do differently next time, just let me know before we start.”
Lucy shook her head before putting her sun hat and sunglasses on. “Nope. It was just fine as is.”
Tim walked her to the front door and opened it. She slipped out, turning back for a moment to shoot him a small yet real smile this time. “It was nice to meet you, Tim. See you in a couple of weeks.”
“Have a good night.” He waved and stepped back inside.
Once the door had closed and he had turned the lock, Tim let out a shaky breath.
“Someone help me.”
~*~
Spoiler alert: absolutely no one came to his rescue.
Tim had learned that hard lesson a long time ago, though. No one helps you. You have to help yourself.
After their second, intensely charged session where he was thankfully not treated to the Epic Moan, as he’s taken to calling it, Tim believed maybe he’d make it. Maybe the attraction would subside, and his body would stop having visceral reactions to literally everything about Lucy Chen, and he wouldn’t have to quit his job and move to Australia because he couldn’t get his body to stop being unreasonable.
Their third session began to feel like a routine. Tim could do routine. Routine was what he lived for, had lived and breathed in the Army for years. Routine he could handle, because there’s nothing unpredictable about it.
Lucy’s fourth appointment is damn near a cake walk. They chat off and on, and Tim doesn’t even get the least bit hard. But that low frequency vibration just beneath his skin has not subsided. Every time he’s in Lucy’s presence, it persists. That , he’s sure he can’t do anything about, but at least now he can look at the gorgeous design of her back tattoo without wanting to lick it.
“She’s been coming to see you for over two months now,” Angela said with a forlorn sigh.
It was late afternoon, and Lucy would be walking through the front door any minute now. He’d been excited all day about the opportunity to see her, to ask her how her latest gig had gone and whether her noisy neighbors had divorced yet. She’d been privy to some personal details he didn’t tell many people, but somehow felt compelled to tell her. Like how his go-to karaoke song is Lady Marmalade, and how he’d broken his collarbone playing football in high school. They had cultivated a sort of tentative friendship, which seemed to annoy Angela to no end.
“Yeah? And?” Tim needled, knowing it would piss Angela off more.
“Would you just fucking ask her out already? It’s not a matter of whether she’ll say yes or not, by the way, because she looks at you like she wants to eat you and then cuddle afterward.”
“That’s…uh huh…” Tim looked away, skeptical.
“Look,” Angela sighed again, and Tim was almost concerned, like this much heavy breathing might make her pass out. “Just…do it. For my sake.”
“I’m a consummate professional, Ange,” Tim replied, leaning back in the desk chair with an air of nonchalance. His best friend would be absolutely horrified to know how many times he’d jacked off to Lucy and those sounds she made when he hit a tender spot.
“Well, I’d wish you’d consummate something,” Angela grumbled, and for a moment, he worried she might be a mind reader.
The door opened, and Tim’s heart leapt. Lucy stepped in, wearing a yellow floral sundress and strappy sandals. She had her usual purse, which she’d told him once was basically like Mary Poppins’ bag. Her normal sunhat was gone, but her sunglasses sat atop her adorable nose.
Jesus, he had a problem.
“Hey Lucy,” Angela greeted, fingers already flying across the keys. “You’re all set. I’m heading out. Need to pick up Theo from daycare.”
Tim had never seen Angela move so fast. She stood, practically sending the desk chair careening into the wall behind her. She grabbed her purse, gave a little wave over her shoulder, and was gone.
“Is she okay?” Lucy asked, chuckling.
“She’s been having stomach issues all afternoon,” Tim shrugged. “Think it was the Thai food she had for lunch.”
God, he could be a dick.
“Our usual room?” Lucy asked, pointing down the hallway.
Tim nodded. “Yep. If you want to get ready, I’ll be right there.”
Once again, Lucy was the last appointment of the day. One nail tech had left about an hour ago, and the only other employee, a hairdresser, had left ten minutes before Lucy arrived.
Tim waited until she had disappeared down the hall before getting up and locking the front entrance. One could never be too safe. There’d been a break-in a few months ago at a business up the block. No need to tempt fate.
By the time he had completed his pre-massage routine, he headed down the hall, knocked, and entered at Lucy’s call. As usual, she had piled her bag and clothes on a chair, swept up her hair into a messy bun, and had settled on the table…
… Face up…
… With the sheet pulled up just under her neck.
Tim sucked in as quiet a breath as he could, steadying himself, fortifying his will at whatever fresh hell the universe wanted to throw at him today.
“I hope it’s okay with you…” Lucy spoke, propping herself up on her elbows. The sheet fell and Tim nearly yelled out. Thankfully, it just dipped a little lower. ”…but I thought maybe we could start with the front this time.”
Tim’s brain short-circuited as he watched his carefully built routine crumble around him. And though it was such a harmless change, it sent Tim into a tailspin. Because now that his routine was disrupted, he couldn’t immediately fall into that safe headspace where he could refrain from ogling his client like a lascivious dick.
He was back to square one, cock hardening at the mounds of her breasts and pebbled nipples, those wide hips, and the thighs that waited for him beneath that sheet…
He couldn’t do this. He had to tell her to roll over.
“Uh, y-yeah, that’s…this is fine.”
Fuck.
Tim busied himself with grabbing a couple of towels and picking up the bottle of lavender lotion.
“I think I’d like to try a different lotion today,” Lucy said, still propped up and watching his every move.
“Um…sure. What would you like?” Tim swallowed.
“I’d love jasmine.”
Fuckity fuck. Jasmine was his favorite. Did she know that? How could she know that? Was the universe conspiring to kill him?
“Jasmine it is.” Tim replied, voice slightly strained. He replaced the lavender and grabbed the jasmine. He stood at the head of the table, where he usually ended the neck and scalp. If she wanted to go backwards, he could do that.
Right?
Tim lathered his hands with the jasmine lotion, the scent simultaneously putting him on edge and relaxing him. He took in another breath and began.
It started innocently enough. He began with the base of her skull, then worked gently down the column of her neck. Lucy’s pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips, or perhaps he was imagining it? Regardless, Tim did his best to keep his mind on the task, but his gaze kept wandering to Lucy’s face. Her eyelashes fanned across the tops of her cheeks, and her lips twitched and pursed with each knot he found. As he moved to her shoulders and collarbones, her lips parted ever so slightly, a soft trickle of air escaping.
Focus, Bradford. Focus.
Next, Tim massaged out her arms, beginning with her biceps, down to her forearms, and then he pressed his thumbs into her palms. She had relaxed under his touch, becoming malleable.
“How’s the neighbor situation?” Tim asked, trying to busy his thoughts elsewhere.
Lucy’s body shook slightly from laughter. “They’re fine. I think I’ve realized their deal.”
Tim moved around the table and adjusted the sheet to reveal her legs.
God, her thighs.
He’d gotten so distracted by them, he forgot she was regaling him with the latest drama.
“What’s their deal?” He forced himself to ask. He pumped more lotion into his palm, then began the arduous task of having to touch her thighs, but not being able to touch her thighs.
“Well…” She breathed, then shifted slightly, spreading her legs a little wider—much to Tim’s dismay. “I think they’re just meant to be volatile. Because when they’re done fighting, they have the most epic sex.”
Tim choked, his movements faltering. “What now?”
Lucy smiled slightly, cracking an eye open to look down her body at him. “They fight, knock down, drag out. And then, there’s silence for the longest time. I thought they were maybe taking a break and fighting again. But then I realized…they fuck.”
While Tim never had a problem uttering that rather vulgar word, ever, hearing it come from Lucy’s mouth was almost the best kind of sacrilege. He wanted her to say it again. But then not, because his dick hardened further.
“Their fucking is almost as violent as their fighting. God, the way he makes her scream…”
Tim’s hands squeezed, harder than he’d meant for them to, into the meat of her thigh, and then there it was. The Moan. The one that had haunted his dreams since he’d first heard it.
This time, the only one in the room embarrassed was Tim.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he stuttered.
“Don’t be,” Lucy said, breathless. “…do it again.”
Three simple words, yet they were absolutely dangerous, like an invitation to something that could not be revoked. And because Tim was happy to please, not to mention his dick was hanging achingly hard in the light material of his black uniform pants, he did as the lady commanded.
His thumbs pressed down and followed the line of muscle up the center of her thigh. Lucy squirmed and moaned again.
“ Tim… ”
Okay, he definitely shouldn’t have done that.
“Lucy, I’m—”
Lucy sat up quickly, her hand flying down to clamp around his wrist. The sheet fell away, her breasts revealed, but he couldn’t look. No matter how much he desperately wanted to.
“ Tim. ” She said his name again, like a prayer, her dark eyes blazing with a heat he hadn’t expected to see. “I’ve been coming to see you for weeks. And every time, you’re an absolute gentleman, which I appreciate, so much, really. But your hands are a whole other fucking story.”
Tim shifted on his feet, his blue gaze locked to her brown, pulled in like an inescapable whirlpool. This was definitely spiraling out of control. His routine had been smashed to smithereens. He can’t do this. Panic set in, but not enough to flag the raging hard on that was not at all subtle, based on the fact that at one point, Lucy’s eyes had flicked down and flared when she’d seen the bulge.
“Lucy, I’m your massage therapist.” He forced himself to speak, as though that might solve all of his problems.
“It’s kind of funny and sweet that you think I give a damn,” Lucy huffed. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Tim. And if you think for one second I haven’t been looking at you…”
Tim swallowed thickly, feeling like he was on the edge of a precipice, coming ever closer to falling by the second. She still clutched his wrist with a surprisingly tight grip, and though he could easily free himself, her touch was disabling.
“I don’t want to cross any lines,” Tim managed to say. Her answering smirk made his cock twitch.
“I want you to,” she implored, her voice dropping to a whisper now. Her grip tightened a little more, and then she was guiding his hand further up her thigh, and higher still. “God, I want it so badly…”
Tim felt the soft skin at the top of her thigh first, and then the small patch of hair at the apex. He let out a shaky breath as she pressed the tips of his fingers feather light to her slit.
“ Jesus .” The breath punched from his lungs, nearly taking all the oxygen with it. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because she was soaked.
“I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day, Tim. And what your hands do to me. Do you know how many times since we met that I’ve made myself come, wanting my fingers to be yours?”
Probably about as many times as he’d wrapped his own fingers around his cock thinking about what hers would feel like instead.
She brushed his fingers across her opening, his skin gathering the slickness. He couldn’t help it that time and groaned audibly.
Lucy grinned widely, like the cat that ate the canary, knowing full well she had him now. She lay back on the table once more, and with her free hand, yanked the sheet from her body, revealing herself fully to him. A strangled cry caught in his throat at the sight of her naked form, a work of art. She bent her knees slightly, parting her legs more, finally giving him the perfect view of her pussy, glistening with her arousal.
“I’ve come with just my fingers, but they’re never enough.” Lucy nearly whined, yanking his hand closer before finally letting go. “I’ve thought about how much thicker yours are than mine. Longer. I wanna feel them. Please, Tim.”
Holy fuckballs. The way she begged.
By now all logic had gone out the window. Tim’s only instinct was to please, to pleasure, because this gorgeous woman needed him to, and that base instinct at his core needed to do it.
Tim moved up the table, standing by her hip. She looked up at him with the most pleading look, like the quality of the remainder of her existence rested on how well he could do this.
Fuck, he had to do it. If Angela fired him for this, it’d be worth it.
Lifting his hand away, Lucy did whine then, in disappointment. But if he was going to do this, he’d do it right. He popped his wet fingertips into his mouth, sucking them clean. He groaned again at the taste of her, cock hard as fucking steel now. Lucy moaned too, realization dawning that he was going to give her what she wanted…and more.
His left hand cupped her face, brushing his thumb across her jaw. Lucy leaned into the touch, while allowing her legs to fall open wider. Tim’s right palm came to rest against her, fingers teasing at her entrance while the heel of his hand pressed ever so slightly down on her clit. Lucy squirmed again, tilting her hips for more contact.
Tim could be a bastard and tease her, but he’d spent the past two plus months wondering what she would feel like, and he couldn’t wait another moment. Gently, he slid his middle finger inside, the slickness easing his path. They both moaned together, and Tim gave a few experimental thrusts. Lucy bucked, one finger already too much, it seemed. Tim could imagine, as her velvet walls were clenched around him. She was so fucking tiny, and so unbelievably tight.
“Tim, more. More.”
It was a squeeze, but Tim teased the tip of his third finger at her entrance, opening her hole wider for him to press in. He’s two knuckles deep, and Tim imagined that if it were his dick he’d probably have died by now. She’s so fucking warm, scorching, and so wet and wanting.
Tim began slowly, pulling out just the slightest little bit, then pushing back in. He experimented with the angle, the pressure on her clit and the curl of his fingers, adjusting until Lucy yelped and nearly arched up off the table. Tim sought the same position again, and felt a swell of pride when she thrashed. He settled his hand on her sternum, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep her in place as he began his assault.
“Is this everything you wanted it to be?” Tim asked, voice gravelly, rumbling in his chest as the primal side of himself took over, thrusting with abandon, his thumb now alternating between flicking and circling her clit. The engorged nub hardened, and the wet, sucking sounds of his fingers inside her were absolutely filthy and he loved it.
“Y-Ye—” Lucy couldn’t even answer. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth forming the prettiest ‘O.’ Tim badly wanted to bite at the smooth line of her neck, but instead used his free hand to roll a tantalizing, dusky nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged and rubbed, and Lucy went wild, coming so hard around his fingers that the way she clamped down around him was almost too much. She wailed and gasped, her whole body practically vibrating. Her skin shined with a light sheen of sweat and the jasmine lotion, and Tim’s definitely sure he can die now, and die happily.
He slowed his movements and rubbed a soothing palm against the puffy, reddened nipple. He reluctantly slid his fingers from her grasping body and used his clean hand to adjust his painfully erect cock.
Lucy had lifted her arms, hands resting on her head while her chest heaved, catching her breath.
“H-Holy shit ,” she groaned, no doubt basking in the high of her release.
Tim, being Tim, couldn’t let the evidence of her release go to waste. Once more his fingers disappeared into his mouth as he licked them clean with a relish he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Fuck, it felt good to make Lucy come like that. And he realized he wanted to do it again. Probably many more times. Because he was chasing a high of his own, and though he might get burned for it, at that moment he didn’t care.
Then a few long moments passed where neither of them said a word, and suddenly a twinge of awkwardness pushed through the euphoria. What was he supposed to do now? Did he finish the massage? Or should he suggest she leave?
Luckily, Lucy didn’t have an ounce of shame.
She swung her legs over the side of the table, sat up, and hopped off. She was so small compared to him, but she yanked his black scrubs shirt over his head with ease.
“Naked. Now. Get on the table.”
Tim’s hands shot out when her legs wobbled, and maybe he felt a bit more smug after that, but she didn’t allow him to linger on it for very long.
“ Now.”
Tim hurried to toe out of his shoes, nearly falling over in his haste. He yanked off his socks, the scrub bottoms, and then his boxer briefs. Before he could think twice, he laid down on the table in anticipation.
Meanwhile, Lucy had been rummaging in her giant bag and produced a box out of which she pulled a foil packet.
“Was this your intention all along?” Tim couldn’t help but ask, his voice low, husky. “Seducing me?”
Lucy grinned widely, pleased. “Maybe…”
She didn’t waste time—Tim liked that about her—quickly, yet carefully ripping open the packet and climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. Tim’s not sure if the table was built to hold the weight of them both, but he’d lost the ability to care once Lucy had curled her fingers around his cock. She swiped the pad of her thumb across the head, smearing the leaking precum and giving him a couple of firm strokes.
“Fuck, fuck ,” Tim gasped, bucking up into her touch.
“How are you real ?” Lucy murmured, looking down at him, eyes hooded and clouded with want. She rolled the condom down his length and wasted no time in lifting herself up and guiding the flared head to her entrance. She sank down slowly, taking Tim in, inch by agonizing inch. Her lips parted again as though in awe. Tim held his breath, willing himself not to shoot his load right then and there at the sheer pleasure of her heat enveloping him. Lucy’s hips met his, and she collapsed forward on his chest, suddenly unable to hold herself up.
Immediately, Tim wrapped his arms around her, holding on as tightly to her as she was to him. Any sudden movements and he’d embarrass himself, no doubt about it.
For a time, the only sound in the room was their labored breathing. Tim held fast, so Lucy wouldn’t move yet. He needed a chance to calm down, and to get used to the tight feel of her. Tim knew he wasn’t small by any stretch, so he also figured Lucy would need time to adjust to him. Especially with how fucking tight she was. Like a vice.
Lucy rested her palms on Tim’s shoulders and slowly lifted her torso. Their gaze met once more, and Tim, if he hadn’t been before, was a goner. The light in her eyes, the arousal, the unadulterated sex, and something else had Tim feeling lightheaded.
“D-D’you wanna get a coffee after?” he blurted, unable to stop the words before they broke free.
Lucy didn’t laugh. She just smiled the slightest, pleased smile, and nodded. “Yes. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
Of course. Tim was always the last one to know shit like that.
Tim’s fingers skated down her spine, until his hands settled on her hips. He squeezed, loving the feel and weight of her ass in his palms. Lucy didn’t need any hints. She rolled her hips experimentally, once more causing them both to groan simultaneously. She rocked again, and Tim’s breath caught in his throat. He made no move to guide her, wanting Lucy to set the pace.
Lucy didn’t do things by halves, apparently. Instead of starting slow and building up, she rode him like a fucking prize stallion. She bounced up and down on his cock, breasts bouncing in time. She’s chasing another orgasm, desperate to reach that peak again. Tim’s more than willing to let it happen. More than willing for her to take what she needed from him. And she is, using those powerful thighs to fuck herself over the edge, the slap of skin against skin an added aphrodisiac to the jasmine coating her.
“ Tim, Tim,” she rambled his name, over and over and over like a hymn. “I knew you’d be big. God damn, I knew you’d split me in two.”
Okay, holy fuck.
“Jesus, Lucy, you’ve got a mouth on you…” he groaned, accepting that he was just along for the ride, and he wasn’t complaining.
Lucy tipped her head forward to look down at him again, one of those gorgeous smirks in place. “You have no idea…”
Okaayyyy…
Her pace started becoming jerky, and her pussy fluttered and clenched around him. She was close, and so was he. He’d been close minutes ago, but had tried to hold back, to let her get there first.
“I’m gonna come,” Lucy breathed. “Fuck, Tim, I’m gonna come, I’m gonnacome, I’mgonnacome…”
She slammed down hard on his cock, grinding her clit against his pelvis, and she was gone. Her pussy cinched around him, and she damn near screamed out her pleasure at the top of her lungs. Tim pressed his fingers tightly into the flesh of her hips, knowing he’d probably leave bruises there. He bucked up, short, shallow thrusts, once, twice, and then he was emptying into the condom, groaning one long, low moan.
Spent and sated, they both fell, Tim back against the table and Lucy against his chest.
They remained motionless, slowly regaining their breath. Lucy rested her head into the crook of Tim’s neck as his arms came up and around her once again. They stayed that way for a time, and if he was honest, he’d be more than happy to stay right there forever.
Lucy picked up her head, resting her chin on his chest. Her skin was flushed a pretty shade of pink, and her smile was pure sunshine. “So…about that coffee.”