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Protection of Literary and Artistic Property (Berne Convention)***

The cool breeze snapped Jenelle Richardson's hair into her brown
red-rimmed eyes and she shook her head to push the dirty blonde locks from
her tired face. She was suddenly glad her friends had asked her recently
to shed her waist-length hair and take on this more professional and yet
more attractive shoulder-length bob. She opened the door to the store she
had parked her car infront of, and peered around. Elizabeth's Classical
Daytime Spa and Retreat was what the sign had read. Yep, Jenelle thought
as she slowly walked up to the counter. This is the place her friends had
told her about. Five months ago, Jenelle had gotten the job of her dreams.
She had studied hard all through college, harder than her small circle of
friends. Then directly afterwards, she had taken a job at her mother's
company and immediately began working herself to death to pay off her
student loans. Now the loans were paid, and she was finally employed at a
company that allowed a person to grow, to develop to the best of their
ability. But she was so anxious, her friends said, pleading with her to
relax and take life easier. She had worked with her mother for five years.
Five long, hard, arduous years. The habits she had developed in college,
push-push-push, were encouraged under her mother's stern and watchful eye.
Push-push-push. Do more, as much as you can, as soon as you can. And
Jenelle's life had suffered for it. Socially, physically, mentally,
emotionally. She had only the handful of friends she had made in high
school that had followed her through college. She'd never had time for
making new friends, never had time for anything. Sex? Out of the
question. A virgin? Definitely, destined to die surrounded by cats. "May
I help you, miss?" said the perky blonde behind the high mahogany counter.
Jenelle peered at her and gulped, then handed her the gift certificate her
friends had bought her as celebration of her new job. "Ahh! How nice!
Yes, I sold this one! I remember!" The blonde smiled at Jenelle. Was that
a mischievous look in her eyes? "You, Miss Richardson, are going to have
the best of what we can offer!" Yes, there was that glint in the other
woman's eyes as she spoke, beckoning to Jenelle to follow. She led Jenelle
into a locker room of sorts and handed her a key. "Your locker number is
539. Once you are undressed, put this towel here, this one with the Velcro
tabs, around and over your torso and chest. Take this one and wrap it
around your hair. You have very beautiful and well cared for hair, Miss
Richardson." The girl handed Jenelle a stack of white terry-cloth towels
and smiled at her winningly. "Then you can put this robe over your
completely, for your comfort, and we can meet out in the sitting room."
With that, the girl left. And Jenelle was alone. She'd never done
anything like this before. With wide eyes, she peered around the small
locker room. No cameras anywhere? Good. Jenelle began to peel off her
restricting brown business suit, folding each piece and placing it on the
top shelf in the locker. Nervously, she unbuttoned the stark white blouse
and slipped it from her shoulders. Standing there in her plain bra and her
panties that looked more like old lady's briefs, Jenelle felt so naked,
already. The lady had said she should undress and put on the towels. A
sudden fear went through Jenelle, a fear of ridicule from her high school
days. She remembered the jests of the other older girls, the beautiful
ones, who had poked and prodded at her thin and boy-like body in the
shower. Jenelle had never been anything special, and she wasn't given to
thinking she ever would be. Finally, she steeled her courage. Her friends
were right. This wasn't highschool anymore. Jenelle peeled off the bra,
looking down at her round breasts where they pointed to the ceiling. Her
nipples were hard in the cool of the locker room, dark and pointed against
her pale white flesh. She took off her panties and put them with her bra
in the locker. Then she wrapped the one large towel around her, using the
Velcro tabs to fasten it tight. Another small towel she put around her
hair. Finally, she covered herself in the still pre-warmed terry cloth
white robe and made her way to the door that said "sitting room". "Ah,
Miss Richardson! Would you follow me, please?" The blonde girl was waiting
for her, smiling encouragingly at Jenelle's blushing face, and beckoning to
her. She led Jenelle through another door. Jenelle had heard about this
place from her friends. You spent the day there, if you could, or just the
afternoon. It would be hours though. And you let the staff pamper you
with facials, back rubs, pedicures, saunas. They used aroma-therapy
through out the whole building, and all the ladies at work swore by the
place. They could take the most stressful person in the world and relax
them into a puddle of calm and supple flesh. If only they could help
Jenelle, her friends had laughed when handing her the certificate. And so
it was for Jenelle. She let them coddle her, ply her with beautiful scents
and cleansers. Her skin had never felt so clean. Her pores were opened,
cleansed, then closed again. Her hair was washed, conditioned, treated
with a special cleansing agent, then washed again, trimmed and styled to
gently flow around her neck. Her feet were buffed, pumiced, and rubbed
with minty lotions. Her fingernails AND toenails were painted a modest
pearl white, clipped and perfectly shaped. But Jenelle didn't relax. It
made her nervous to have all these women fussing over her. It was good to
be treated nicely. It was great to have all this attention. But it was
also too much. She kept thinking about work. Her new boss had known she
was taking a "personal" day. And she thought he might even know why. But
he had smiled and nodded and let her leave work that morning before lunch.
Yet all she could think about was that project that she hadn't finished.
And calls she could have made today. She could have done some extra filing
for the new clients. So much she could have done. After about three
hours, the gaggle of women attending Jenelle seemed to look at each other
and smile and nod. "She needs the special treatment, I think." "Yes, and I
am sure Summer said she was covered for it." "Oh really? Well why didn't
you say so? We've been wasting her time, keeping her from the best part of
the day!" Slowly, they smiled and pulled Jenelle to her feet. "Special
treatment?" They nodded. "Full body massage," one offered. "From Carlos,"
another smiled at Jenelle. "Who's Carlos?" Jenelle asked, suddenly very
nervous and afraid. "The best," one of the women whispered.
Half-protesting, half-curious, Jenelle let herself be dragged into a
more-hidden back room. The door closed behind her and she found she had
been left alone. Almost alone. "Hello, my name is Carlos," came a man's
voice, thick with a Jamaican accent. "Please, ma'am, if you would lay upon
the table, here." Jenelle looked at the table, barely able to see it in the
darkness of the room. As her eyes adjusted, she could see the room was lit
only with candlelight. Wall sconces and table top settings held pale long
aromatic candles. The room had wooden walls, and was small, like a small
personal sauna. And in the center of the room was a flat table covered
with a leather cushion running its length. A pillow was at one end of it,
a small one. She looked finally at the man who was speaking. "Carlos" was
about 30 years old. He was a thicker build black man. His skin was
chocolate, pale milk chocolate. He had on a pair of clean and starched
white slacks, but no top over his bulging chest. There wasn't even a
shadow of hair on his smooth, round head. His eyes were smiling, bright
and squinting. He looked at her, and his lips caught her eye, the subtle
trail of mustache that circled his mouth and went down his chin tangling
Jenelle's vision. He motioned one big hand to the table, and smiled such a
bright and winning smile, Jenelle moved almost without thinking.
Carefully, she lay up on the table, then blinked at the dark ceiling.
"Ma'am, you should lay on your stomach first," Carlos chuckled.
Embarrassed, Jenelle moved to get off the table and plopped down, almost
landing on the floor if not for Carlos catching her. But he only smiled at
her and helped her climb back onto the table. "May I undo a bit of your
robe, ma'am?" he asked. Jenelle nodded, and Carlos carefully peeled the
robe down her back, exposing her shoulders. "You are so tense, ma'am."
Jenelle could only nod as his hands moved over her skin. She could feel
the smooth palms. They were warm. "Do you like the scent of the candles,
ma'am?" "Yes," Jenelle whispered, mouse-like. "Vanilla. I love vanilla.
Vanilla ice-cream, vanilla perfume, vanilla wafting through the house on a
warm summer day like today..." Carlos spoke, his voice calm, soothing, and
mentally suggestive. She could see what he was trying to do. He was
trying to make Jenelle think nice thoughts. Carlos was very good at his
job. "Musk is nice too. Vanilla musk. I've found White Musk candles,
once. Very nice, very nice." His thick fingers began to knead her muscles,
and Jenelle willed herself to not think of the fact that a man was touching
her. This was a professional masseuse. And all her friends had probably
had the "special treatment" at some point. She needed to just relax.
"Have you ever seen vanilla flowers, ma'am? No? Very nice, very nice.
Very perfect, and small. They are as white as your skin, ma'am. Very
nice, very very nice." His fingers and thumbs rolled her tense muscles
easily, and Jenelle felt herself relaxing, her cheek against the small
cushion, her eyes closed. "May I take off your robe, ma'am?" The question
brought Jenelle back to the brink of nervousness and tension. "Perfectly
routine, ma'am. You do have the body wrap on, yes, ma'am?" "Um," Jenelle
fretted. Finally, she looked up at Carlos, blinking her brown eyes at his.
And he just smiled. "Get up on your hands and knees, ma'am, and I will
take it off. No troubles, perfectly routine." Jenelle did as she was told,
and Carlos peeled the robe off of first one arm, then the other. Then he
gently pushed down on her back, and she sank to the table once more. "I'm
going to work on your back now, ma'am. Your arms, your shoulders, and your
back. Very nice," he added. And Carlos began to knead and dig into
Jenelle's aching and untouched, unstretched muscles. She had never felt
her body tingle like this. It was an incredible feeling, as his thick fingers pushed and prodded, rubbing and rolling her arms. Jenelle found
herself loosening up, sighing contentedly. "Ma'am? I'd like to do more
for your body, ma'am. Could I take off your wrap?" Jenelle's eyes flew
wide. Could that be routine too? "Very routine, ma'am. That's why they
call it a full body massage. I assure you, I am very good at what I do,
and I would do nothing you didn't want me to, ma'am." There was a catch in
there. Jenelle barely heard it and almost missed it. Only things she
would want him to do? Still, she nodded. This was turning into a very
relaxing episode, and she felt so comfortable with Carlos. He courteously
handed her a towel to place over her breasts, which she suddenly definitely
didn't want him to see, ashamed of how small they might seem. Especially
in his big hands. Blushing, Jenelle chastised herself. Where had THAT
thought come from? She lay back down on the table, the wrap in Carlos'
hands as he peeled that from her, too. Before she could feel too exposed,
he deftly laid a towel over her bare buttocks, before the wrap had even
come completely free. Jenelle was thankful for that. "There, ma'am. Now
I can work on your back, and your legs. I'm going to put some oil on you,
ma'am. It's going to feel very warm. I think you will like it." A squirt
sound was followed by a warm wet feeling on her back, then Carlos' hands
were rubbing the oil into her skin. He started on her spine, his thumbs
moving hard upwards, hands mirroring each other's movements as he worked
the oil in. He was leaning over her, his palms flat against her back, when
she heard him whisper in her ear. "Strawberry musk, ma'am. I love musk."
Then he had pulled away. His voice, so close and intimate, had a profound
affect upon Jenelle. She could feel her nipples reacting, her breasts squashed into the towel, becoming suddenly hot. And her nether regions,
too. They were suddenly full of an odd warmth that Jenelle almost
recognized. Was she feeling lust? Here in a massage parlor?? The thought
both thrilled and shocked her. But the sound of Carlos talking, the
lighting of the candles, and the wonderful scents in the air made Jenelle
truly not care, any longer. She was becoming intoxicated with relaxation.
"You have a beautiful body, ma'am." Jenelle couldn't help but smile. It
made her proud. A man had noticed her body. Sad she had to be completely
naked for it. But just the same, a very attractive man had paid her a
compliment. Carlos' hands played over her thighs and calves, twisting the
tight muscles and working them free of knots and tension. "You must work
out. These limbs are so slender and supple in my hands." She sighed,
happily. "Very nice, very very nice," came his soft, deep voice as his
fingers played at the insides of her thighs. "Ma'am, I would like to
massage your behind, but only if you want me to. Very routine, many ladies
like yourself feel more relaxed. May I do this for you, ma'am?" Jenelle
nodded, almost without thinking. It must have been an hour now. And no
one had come knocking on the door. This must really be routine. Carlos
removed the white towel from Jenelle's buttocks, and as his oily warm hands
landed gently on the untouched flesh, she jumped. "Relax, ma'am. I won't
hurt you. I just want to make you feel good." Jenelle closed her eyes
again, her breath suddenly ragged as Carlos' hands became very intimately
familiar with her round bottom. "Very nice," he said, and she found
herself pleased he thought so. Around and around his hands went over her
buttocks, pulling at them tenderly. He poured more of the oil onto her
skin, and she noticed it was hotter. Carlos rubbed it in very deeply, and
she knew he was right. It really did feel good. "You have a lovely ass,
ma'am. Very nice. You take good care of yourself." As Carlos moved his
finger tips into the crack of her behind, Jenelle didn't even consider
objecting. "All of your body is so tense. Let me make you relax," he
cooed to her as his fingers began to tease at her most intimately. "I love
strawberries. Especially in vanilla ice-cream," he continued, his finger
suddenly probing Jenelle's anus. My god, she thought, half awake, half
unconscious. Have I been drugged? Am I letting a complete stranger put
his finger in my ass? But she knew she was only drunk on the relaxing
enzymes her body was producing. She had never before felt so calm and at
ease. Carlos could do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't stop doing
it, as long as he kept touching her. She sighed, eyes closed, arms hanging
off the edges of the table. "You are so tense, ma'am... Relax for me...."
His finger probed her, slick with oil, and she felt her whole body quake at
the sexiness of his touch. Then he was withdrawing, and she almost
regretted it. But his hand began to find other parts of her to touch.
"Part your thighs, ma'am. That's it, very nice. I want to relax you, as
much as I can. You are so tense. Let me relax you...." As his voice
trailed off, his mouth lowered suddenly to her behind, and his finger found
her privacy. He parted her cheeks with his free hand, while two fingers of
the other began to play over her swelling puss lips. Just as his tongue
flicked out and over her bottom, his fingers parted her and found her wet
and stiffened clit. Jenelle moaned, and Carlos whispered against her ass.
"Just relax, ma'am. You will feel so good and rested. Relax." Carlos
began to lick at her, and she could feel how thick his tongue was, like his
fingers. He removed his hands and placed them on each of her thighs,
parting her legs on the table and slowly sliding her down the leather
cushion, until she was almost bent over the table. Jenelle only let Carlos
move her, not stirring from the very hot reverie she was finding herself
in. He squatted at the end of the table, examining her puss and privacy.
"You smell so sweet, ma'am. Like vanilla, now, and like strawberries." Out
came his tongue, connecting with her most intimate folds. Jenelle almost
yelped in shock, realizing the depth she was letting this man go. But she
didn't want him to stop. "Very nice," he whispered, his voice husky and
deep, barely audible. "Very very nice" came his breath against her parting
puss lips. His words were hot against her privacy. He separated her wet
folds, and began to probe her with his tongue. He licked up in a long
stroke, tasting her from top to bottom, then to top again. "You take good
care of yourself, ma'am. I can see you have never been tasted by a man before. You deserve only the best." His fingers slipped inside and
stretched her most intimate walls. She could feel him pushing against her
hymen, her virginity. Did she dare encourage him? Dare let this go on?
"You are the best, you said," she whispered, her breath suddenly lost as
she waited for whatever would happen next. Carlos stood up, and leaned his
heavy weight over Jenelle's slender body. She could feel his desire
pressing through his slacks against the backs of her thighs. "I am, ma'am"
he whispered into her ear, and she shuddered in pleasure as his tongue came
out to flick at her neck, his hands moving carefully over her body, sliding
her back up the table. Then he was turning her around, until she lay on
her back. After barely a moment, he was crawling up between her thighs,
his hands on either side of her chest. He looked down into her face like a
wild jungle god. Jenelle felt like a most willing sacrifice. "Very nice,
ma'am...very very nice..." he whispered again, nuzzling her neck. Jenelle
could feel his huge manhood pressing her thigh, bouncing there slightly.
"I want you to relax, ma'am. I want to make you comfortable, and more
relaxed than you ever have been." She nodded, and knew he was serious.
Carlos didn't want to hurt her. Slowly, he took himself in one hand,
brushing himself against the lips of her puss. The head of his cock was so
hot, so slick with oil when she looked down. It was so huge, dwarfing his
hands. Carefully, Carlos rubbed it against her, using it to pry her lips
apart. He dipped it in slightly, and then pulled it out, knowing she was
watching. Her own juices now coated the head of him and he looked up at
her. "Ma'am, I'm going to push into you now. It will feel so good, once
you relax." He lay his heavy body over her, then, and put his arms and
elbows on either side of her head, as he began to kiss at her mouth. His
lips were so soft, so experienced. Jenelle could only hope she would ever
be kissed like that again. Carlos moved his mouth to her neck, then her
ear, where he began to whisper as he began to push the head of his cock
into her tightness. "Ma' are perfection....your skin is are slender and lean, and well smell
beautifully....and you taste so clean...." The seduction of his praises
worked. Before Jenelle could object or cry out, he had broken through her
hymen and filled her completely. For a moment or two, she felt her body
rejecting, objecting, ready to scream out. But Carlos' voice was so
soothing in her ear, and he remained motionless, just letting her body
stretch around him. "You are so lovely, like a sweet vanilla
perfect with your pale petals....I love vanilla flowers..." He
affectionately nuzzled her ears, and she almost sensed a nervousness about
him, but she couldn't be sure. Finally, she lifted her arms, putting them
around her neck. And Carlos began to move himself within her. His cock
was thick for a man, she knew. She read magazines as much as any woman.
But he was so careful, cautious even, with how he moved. He filled her
completely, with flesh to spare. And she reveled in the feeling of
"completeness" and "oneness" that she had never before experienced. Carlos
lifted his weight from her body, and began to kiss down Jenelle's neck as
he rhythmically fucked her. Soon, his lips found her nipples. And he was
playing over them in turns, licking, sucking, teasing and teething them.
"Like flowers....vanilla flowers..." he whispered. She could feel a fire
beginning in her stomach, low in her belly. Jenelle wondered at it for a
moment, then lifted her legs up around Carlos, ignoring the urge to resist
doing anything at all. When she lifted her legs, it gave him more room.
Soon, he was pushing all of his long length into her, she realized. He was
moving faster, harder. And she could feel him, as he began to swell and
grow. "Ahh...ahhh....," came Jenelle's quick, short moans. "Ma'
are so...perfect..." Carlos whispered in between his own grunts of
pleasure. Suddenly, the world tilted. It spun out of control. There was
nothing in existence for Jenelle but the feel of Carlos, buried deep inside
her. She felt her body contracting around his cock, felt her puss
tightening in an orgasm unlike anything she had ever felt before. She had
never been able to drive herself to this kind of pleasure, couldn't imagine
the degree of what was happening. She flowed. Like a wind scented with
flowery perfume. Like water laced with sugar, trailing down a mountain.
Jenelle flowed around Carlos, beneath Carlos. And she felt him flow inside
her too, his thick cock spurting cum deep within her womb. As they
climaxed together, Carlos clung to her, whispering to her. "So a flower...." Jenelle felt tears wetting her cheeks. Was
she crying? She looked up at Carlos. Was he crying?? She didn't care,
she decided, and just clung to him. Their bodies slowed, and he began to
stroke her hair where it had fallen out of the towel. "Very nice,
ma'am.....very very nice..." "Jenelle," she whispered back, and for the
first time, their eyes truly met and they saw into each other. Carlos bent
his head and kissed her, whispering against her lips. "Very nice...." And
Jenelle flowed.


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