I had no idea that something as seemingly innocuous as an Indian head massage would turn into something so wonderful.
I attend a coffee morning at one of my kids' schools every Friday. Every so often (at least once a month, sometimes more), the school staff that run the coffee morning try to get someone in to speak to us, or sometimes to teach us something. Yesterday it was aromatherapy and massage. I learned how to do an Indian head massage, and received one as well. (If you have some way of learning how to do this, I strongly urge you to do so. Honestly, I enjoyed giving one almost as much as receiving one!)
When I got home, Hubby asked what I'd been up to at the coffee morning. "Would you like a demonstration?" I asked him with a big grin.
(To be honest, as soon as we were done learning the technique, I couldn't wait to get home and give him one. For one thing, I actually do enjoy giving him massages. It gives me an excuse to touch him. ;) For another, he's been feeling as unwell as I have lately [we've both been fighting a flu for over two weeks now], complete with headaches, being unable to relax no matter how tired he is, and just a general short-tempered-ness that he can't seem to shake. So I thought it might be good for him, regardless.)
He seemed a little dubious, but agreed. I went to the kitchen to grab a towel (he'd need it for cushioning his neck) and had him sit up straight in his chair.
I started at his shoulders, lightly massaging in circles over the shoulder blades. I moved up to his neck and head, giving light but firm pressure. Placing my palms above his ears on each side of his head, I squeezed my hands together. Firm, but not too hard. I then moved to his left, one hand on his brow, the other on the base of his skull, and squeezed again. Then I started massaging his head all over, using my finger tips. If you've ever had your hair washed at a hairdressers, you'll know what kind of motion I mean. Firm, but not hard, all over the head.
I stroked his hair back, and using the heel of my palm, massaged in little circles up each side of his head. After stroking his hair some more, I laid the towel on the back of his neck and had him lift his head back, so that the base of his skull was resting on the towel and the crown of his head rested against my tits.
Using just my finger tips, I started stroking from the tip of his nose up to his hairline. One stroke after another, again using firm but light pressure. Moving to his eyebrows, I stroked inwards along the brows (both at the same time), down the bridge of his nose, around the eyes, and back up to the brows. Over, down, and around; again and again.
Stroking my way back up to his brow, I placed my hands on each side of his face and stroked my way down his face, to his chin, so that my hands formed a V with my fingertips touching each other, and the heels of my hands still in contact with his chin. Down... make a V... and back up again.
Then I placed one hand on his brow and the other on his chin. Using a half-circular motion, I stroked down with one hand and up with the other. (The hand that started at his chin ended up at his brow, and vice-versa.) First one way, then the other. And then I did it again.
Slowly making my way back to his shoulders, I used the same circular motion on the shoulders as I did to begin with, and ended the massage with a light but firm squeeze on both shoulders.
Apparently he enjoyed it just as much as I had, because the only response to "so? How was that?" that I got was an unintelligible moan.
After recovering from my massage, he said that he was hungry. I still had on my boots and everything, so I ran down to the corner shop to buy him a sandwich. We read some news online and chatted a bit while he ate, and then he shut down the browser window. I assumed he was going to go upstairs.
But instead of getting up and leaving the room, he reached over and grabbed my scarf, pulling me down to him. He kissed me senseless, his tongue darting in and out of my mouth. My head was spinning, literally.
He reached down and unzipped my jeans, finding his way into my panties. I gasped as he started to flick his finger over my clit and bite my neck at the same time. So many sensations all at the same time... it was all I could do not to just melt onto the floor. I braced myself on the arms of the computer chair he was sitting in, just to make sure I could stay upright.
My scarf disappeared somehow, discarded in his need to taste the skin on my neck and shoulders. He kept fingering my clit, bringing me just to the brink of orgasm before stopping and standing up, never breaking contact with me. His arms around me, his mouth on mine, he pushed me across the room to the couch, both of us falling back on it, he on top of me.
Pushing up my shirt, he kneaded my breast through the fabric of my bra. Desperate to taste my nipples, he reached under me with both hands to unclasp my bra. Pushing it out of his way, he bent his head and took one of my nipples in his mouth. Gasping and moaning, I arched my back to push my tits up to him, reveling in the sensation he created.
Without looking, he reached over and unzipped my boots, pulling them off and throwing them across the room. Standing up, he took hold of my jeans by the hem of each leg and pulled them off of me, tossing them aside as well. My panties and his sweats joined the heap of clothes on the floor, and he pulled my ass to the edge of the couch, entering me. Filling me.
He fucked me with long, slow strokes; pulling out almost completely and then filling me completely. Gradually he increased his speed, until my head was banging into the back of the couch and it was all I could do to keep myself from sliding off of it completely.
Pulling out of me, he asked me to get up, wanting to change positions. I stood up and he sat down on the couch, pulling me on top of him. I straddled him, impaling myself on his cock. Slowly I began to rock back and forth; kissing him from his lips, along his jawline, and up to his ear. Taking hold of my hips, he pulled me harder, telling me without words that he needed me to go faster.
Needing no more cue than that, I increased my speed, grabbing hold of the back of the couch for balance. Faster and faster I continued to fuck him, feeling my own orgasm building inside of me.
Suddenly he grabbed his chest. Worried, I stopped - but didn't get off of him. (He has periodic chest pains that doctors haven't been able to find the cause of, and the last thing I wanted to do was fuck him to death - literally - at the age of 32!)
So I just held myself still, helping him to massage his chest and using my pelvic muscles to squeeze his cock inside of me. Eventually the chest pains subsided and sexual need took reign again. He started bucking his hips, prompting me to resume fucking him. I started slow again, not wanting to bring on another case of chest pains.
After a few moments, he needed to switch again, and so he laid me down on the couch and climbed between my legs. Entering me again, he held one of my legs up so that he could drive himself deeper into my pussy.
With him as deep inside of me as he could possibly be, and his pelvic bone rubbing against my clit, it took no time at all before I came. Moaning and gasping, I called out his name as my orgasm took hold.
Whispering in my ear how much he loved me, he continued pumping in and out of me, seeking his own release. Knowing he couldn't keep this up much longer before the chest pains returned, I wanted to see him come. I'd had mine; it was only fair that he got his as well.
So I wrapped my arms around him, digging my nails into the flesh of his ass, turning my head so that I could take his earlobe in my mouth. Telling him how much I loved him, I urged him on. "Fuck me," I whispered in his ear. "Come for me, baby."
It must have sent him over the edge, for the next thing I knew, I could feel his cock spasming inside of me, filling me with his come.
All of that, because of a head massage.
I'd had no idea that it would have that kind of affect on him, but oh my god am I ever glad.
Note to self: give Hubby more head massages! ;)
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