She Cums From an In-room Massage at the Hotel
EROTIC FICTION | MASSAGE

A short erotic story about a woman who gets her needs met while on business travel.
After a day of long meetings with men who seemed to have forgotten that I am the god damned Chief Operating Officer at this company, I finally drop my bag in the hotel room and kick off these heels. I give my team clear instructions about what is expected of them and what the goals are but at times I feel like I am herding cats.
Just a couple hours before my dinner meeting — enough time to call the hubs (if I can tear him away from the Golf Channel), text the kids and grab a quick workout. Dinners out with clients have had an impact on this figure but I can still turn heads when I walk into the hotel gym.
Yoga mat unfurled, I stretch in my favorite LuLuLemon pants along with the taut limbs they contain. The fit young woman working the gym walks over to hand me a towel and a small card advertising the hotel’s In-Room Massage service. “It’s a pretty great service.”, she says as she drops the info on the mat for me. “Why not?”. I had been feeling touch-starved at home so I send a text message to the number on the card. The reply is quick. “7PM is available tonight with our masseuse Monica.” Perfect. Some cardio and a bit of squats for my butt and some shoulder moves I saw on Instagram then it's a quick shower.
Still wrapped in the hotel robe, there is a knock on my door. 7 PM. Monica is clearly punctual. But when I open the door to greet my masseuse I see a striking dark-haired man in a white hotel spa coat. “Hello. Monica was unavailable at the last moment. I am Maniforti — they sent me for your massage. Is this OK?” I normally have women massage me but fuck, he is hot! I open the door for him to carry in his massage table and get set up. “Please call me Mani. Let me make the room more comfortable for a relaxing massage. I will just need a few moments.”, he says with poorly hidden hints of Italian accent on his tongue.
I return to the washroom, glance at my face in the mirror — my cheeks a little flush. My wedding rings sit in a dish on the counter…they can stay there for now. I run my fingers through still damp hair, fluffing a bit. “Why am I doing this?” It's just a massage. OK, a massage from a hot Italian, but still. He is a professional.
“I am ready when you are. Please remove as much clothing as you are comfortable with and lay face down on the table, covering yourself with the sheet. I have increased the temperature in the room to ensure that you do not get cold.”, he instructs. I ditch the robe covering my naked form a get a look at the room, now darkened except for an odd blue lava lamp bubbling away. The top of it has some sort of dish attached. Summer Fling, by Kang, floats from the speaker with its ethereal lo-fi rhythms. Already relaxed I hop onto the table and drape the sheet over my ass and put my face in the strange but oddly comfy little face hole.
I hear him walking toward the table and I smell coconut as he scoops oil into the top of the lava lamp to heat it. “Are there any parts of your body for which you would be more comfortable if I do not touch?”. Nope. Have at it Sir. I’m sure you have seen worse bodies. Put those Italian hands on me anywhere you want and take my stress away.
He slides the sheet part way up and begins working my legs and feet. Those nimble strong man-hands massaging away the day. My skin imbibes the warm coconut oil like a thirsty sailor. He works my back and arms with just the right pressure. He clearly has talent. “Your back and legs are very strong” he compliments her, melting away some of her self-consciousness about being naked in front of this man whose hands have magic healing powers.
“This table can split to allow for more flexibility. I have had a client fall off so I will put this strap around your leg. Is that OK?”. Sure. Whatever. Just keep rubbing those magic fingers on my body. Just being touched after so long feels great.
I hear the velcro straps around my thighs and ankles, then a click and the table pops a little. Then I sense my legs begin to part as he spreads me open. He walks behind and is now in between my legs. He lifts the sheet and now my naked sex is on full display. Fuck it. I am in a hotel, far from home. Who cares? I feel the drip of warm oil, one drop at a time up my claves and thighs then across my full round ass then back down the other thigh and calf. His fingers massage my calves and thighs inching closer to my sex with each stroke. Those firm hands feel amazing as he strokes and pushes against my inner thighs, just inches from my sex. I am dripping wet now and totally relaxed having forgotten how I am on display for this man.
He pauses for a moment then is massaging my upper back and neck. Hands moving along my lubricated spine, I open my eyes to peer through the small opening and I can see his bare feet below the table. Raising my gaze, I spy his erection growing under the white spa coat. He leans forward to stroke down the length of my back and his cock is mere inches from my lips. I have to bite my lip as I think about that cock inside of me.
Back between my legs, working up my thighs and now rounding over my mound of an ass. Powerful hands knead my butt muscles, relieving tension but also tugging on my wet pussy. His hands work lower, both thumbs now on either side of my waxed smooth pussy. I feel my ass cheeks part as he massages and works in the oil.
“Is this OK? Can I go a bit further?” he asks, looking for my consent before crossing that professional line. Oh yes, fuck yes. Please touch me. His thumbs part my pussy lips releasing my wetness as he strokes my labia. “Relieve your tension.”, he commands and his thumbs work me over. I feel one fingertip on my oiled asshole as his thumb slides the length of my slit, finally making contact with my needy clit.
He parts my legs further then slides his thumb into my pussy while his fingers pinch and rub either side of my clit. His thumb is now stroking my g-spot with skill while his fingers tug at my clit, engorging me. His other hand is lightly massaging my spine as his thumb slides in and out of me. I raise my hips slightly to meet his touch and I feel his warm breath on my ass. His hands are exquisite, working me up in the best way. I feel him spread my cheeks then his tongue begins to circle my asshole. No one has ever licked me there before and the feeling is intensely pleasurable. Thank God I just showered but fuck that feels good. I don’t want him to stop.
I feel the release coming from the top of my belly and thighs at the same time. My bladder feels full and my abdomen clenches as the waves of pleasure emanate and pulse from my sex up and out of my body. My legs strain against the straps as I squirm underneath him. The shockwaves roll through me while I groan with deep relief. His thumb stays still deep inside of me until the contractions of my orgasm have ceased and my body finally and fully relaxes.
By far, the best massage I have ever gotten.
I lay there while the music played, relaxed and sated. He transfers me to the bed and covers me with the sheet, packing up his table of joy and other implements. My pussy throbbing and reminding me of the fun I just had.
“The next time you are in town, please call the spa and ask for my services. I would be most happy to assist you. Again, my name is Maniforti Perlafiga.”
Oh, I will.
You know you want a little more Rhobeau in your life. Here ya go:
