The Mature Reader Who Wanted to Try My Massage

The message that appeared in his inbox had a single line: «Story or fantasy?». Rubén read it twice, intrigued by the question’s brevity, and was quick to reply.

—Dear reader, I’ll leave that conclusion to your interpretation —he wrote, then stared at the blinking cursor, waiting.

A couple of weeks earlier, he had published a story on one of those websites where people tell what they don’t dare say out loud. In it, he described an encounter with a woman from his building who had been suffering from back pain for months. He had offered her a folding massage table he kept stored away and, almost without meaning to, ended up offering to massage her himself. What began as a kind gesture turned, paragraph by paragraph, into something very different: oiled hands moving over a generous back, breathing that became ragged, and an ending neither of them had planned but both desired.

His reader’s reply arrived a minute later.

—Good morning. My name is Carmen, and I’ve just finished your story. I confess it made me very nervous to imagine that something like that could really happen, which is why I asked. Would it be indiscreet to ask where you’re from?

Rubén smiled at the screen. He told her he lived in Santander.

—In Santander? I can’t believe it. I’m from Castro Urdiales—we’re practically neighbors. I’ve been reading erotic stories for years, but I’d never spoken to one of the people who writes them. I’m terrible with words, but imagining… imagining, I’m wonderful at.

That last sentence, with its ellipsis hanging like an invitation, sparked an idea in Rubén that he made no effort to hide. If she was capable of imagining so much, perhaps she was capable of something more as well.

—If you’d like, we could have coffee one afternoon and talk about all this in person —he typed.

—Yes, yes, I’d love to! —she replied at once.

They arranged to meet that very afternoon, at six, in a café on Castro’s seafront promenade, overlooking the harbor and the boats rocking on the water.

***

At exactly six, Rubén pushed open the glass door and swept his gaze across the place. At a table in the corner, beside the window, a woman raised her hand and made a discreet gesture for him to come over.

Carmen was around fifty. Her brown hair, streaked with lighter highlights, was gathered in a loose bun; her eyes were lively, and her smile couldn’t quite decide whether it was shy or brazen. She stood to greet him and held out her hand, and that was when Rubén had to make a conscious effort not to look down. The button-down blouse she wore, open a couple of buttons more than necessary, hinted at generous tits that seemed to be screaming for attention, squeezed inside a black lace bra showing through shamelessly.

She noticed immediately. Of course she noticed. She gave him a sidelong look as they sat down and said with half a smile:

—I’m sure that what you’re looking at already gives you the beginning of another story.

Rubén didn’t bother denying it. He decided the best way to find out how far Carmen was willing to go was not to hold back.

—I wasn’t thinking about a story —he replied, holding her gaze—. I was thinking about how difficult it would be to describe with words what it would be like to run my hands, covered in oil, over those tits, pinching your nipples until they turned hard as rocks. Slowly. With no hurry whatsoever.

Carmen went very still. The teaspoon she was holding stopped halfway to the sugar bowl.

—I’d put a blindfold on you —he continued, lowering his voice so only she could hear—. So you couldn’t see a thing and everything was reduced to the brush of my fingers. I’d start at your feet and work my way up without skipping a single inch, listening to how your breathing changes when I reach your cunt and spread your lips with two fingers to see how wet you are.

—Please —she murmured, letting out a nervous laugh as she fanned herself with the menu—. We’ve known each other for less than five minutes and you’ve already got me soaked.

—Soaked? —Rubén said, pretending innocence.

—Soaked —Carmen admitted, biting her lip—. Dripping wet, if you know what I mean.

That confession was enough. Rubén understood that the afternoon wouldn’t end with coffee. Without any further detours, he asked whether she wanted to find out in person if his story was true. He had the folding table in the trunk of his car, he told her, and the whole afternoon ahead of them.

—Of course I do —she replied, no longer giggling—. I’ve wanted it ever since I finished your story and stared at the ceiling with my hand between my legs.

Five minutes later, they both left the café, she in front and he behind, heading for Carmen’s apartment.

***

The apartment was on a quiet street, three blocks from the harbor. It smelled of vanilla candles and clean laundry. While Carmen drew the curtains and switched on a lamp with a warm glow, Rubén set up the massage table in the middle of the living room and took a bottle of almond oil from the bag he had packed, just in case, before leaving home.

—You’re prepared —she remarked, watching him.

—I’m optimistic —he corrected her.

Carmen laughed, this time without any nerves. She disappeared into the bedroom for a moment and returned wrapped in a large towel, barefoot, her bun undone and her hair falling over her shoulders. She looked like another woman, younger and yet more self-assured. She lay facedown on the table, rested her cheek on her crossed arms, and sighed.

—Don’t make me talk —she requested—. I want to feel and nothing more.

Rubén rubbed his hands together to warm the oil before touching her. He began with the soles of her feet, pressing with his thumbs, and felt her whole body relax beneath that first caress. He moved slowly up her calves, kneading them, and when he reached the backs of her knees, he heard her hold her breath.

—You didn’t mention that in the story —she whispered.

—The story fell short —he replied.

He worked her thighs with his open palm, alternating pressure and caresses, sliding his hands inward just far enough for her to sense it and be left waiting. Every time he neared the edge of the towel, Carmen barely lifted her hips, offering herself, and every time Rubén changed course and moved up toward her back, deliberately slowly, deliberately unfairly. At one point the towel slipped and exposed her entire ass, two broad, round cheeks gleaming with oil, and Rubén didn’t hold back: he sank his fingers into the flesh, spread her cheeks, and ran his oiled thumb along the cleft, barely brushing her asshole before moving down to her cunt, which was already swollen between her thighs.

—You’re an asshole —she protested thickly, though she opened her legs wider.

—I’m thorough —he said, and drove his middle finger in to the knuckle with one clean thrust. Carmen let out a hoarse moan and buried her face in her arms. Rubén felt her cunt close around his finger, squeezing it as if she didn’t want to let it go, and began moving it slowly, in and out, dragging the wetness over her open lips, searching for her clitoris with his thumb and rubbing it in circles while the finger kept working inside her.

—My God —she gasped—, like that, like that, don’t stop, put another one in me.

Rubén obeyed. He added his index finger and penetrated her with both fingers together, curling them upward to caress that spongy spot that made her lift her ass off the table. With his other hand he pulled the towel completely away from her back, leaving her naked from the nape of her neck to her feet.

Carmen’s skin was warm and soft, dotted with a few moles. Rubén poured a thread of oil along her spine and spread it with his free hand, while the other kept slowly fucking her with his fingers. Carmen was moaning openly now, a deep, filthy sound coming from somewhere far inside, and she moved her hips to the rhythm of Rubén’s hand, pushing against it, seeking her orgasm.

—Turn over —he asked before she came, pulling his fingers out with a wet sound that made them both smile.

She obeyed without fully opening her eyes, her cheeks red and her chest rising and falling. The towel slipped away completely and she lay on her back, utterly shameless, her tits falling to either side and her nipples erect, dark, pointing at the ceiling. Between her thighs, her shaved cunt gleamed with oil and her own wetness, its lips swollen and open like a split fruit.

—Now tell me to my face that I’m not real —she whispered, reaching for his hand.

Rubén warmed more oil between his palms and ran them over her belly, drawing lines from her navel outward toward her hips. He covered her tits with his oiled hands, kneading them slowly, feeling her nipples grow even harder against his palms. He pinched them, gently at first and then eagerly, twisting them between thumb and forefinger, and Carmen arched her back with a long moan.

—Harder —she asked—. Bite them, fuck.

Rubén leaned down and caught one in his mouth, sucking it whole, tugging it with his lips and sinking his teeth in just enough to make her cry out. He moved to the other and repeated it, alternating broad licks with bites, while one hand dropped between her legs again and plunged back into her open, dripping cunt.

—Don’t stop —she gasped—. For God’s sake, don’t stop now, eat me, eat my cunt already.

He had no intention of stopping. He moved his mouth down the center of her belly, leaving a wet trail of saliva and oil, nipping at her hip as he passed, and knelt on the floor in front of the table. He grabbed her thighs, placed them over his shoulders, and pulled her hips toward the edge. Carmen lay spread wide in front of his face, and Rubén took a second to look at her: the red cunt, the swollen lips parting on their own, the clitoris poking out hard as a pearl from beneath its hood.

—What a delicious cunt you have —he murmured against her thighs—. I’m going to suck it until you beg me to stop.

He ran his broad, flat tongue from bottom to top, gathering all her wetness in a single lick, and Carmen let out such a long moan that it broke at the end. Rubén focused fiercely on her clitoris, first circling it with the tip of his tongue, then catching it between his lips and sucking it, licking it as if it were candy. As he licked her, he raised two fingers and pushed them inside her again, this time without ceremony, fucking her with his hand to the rhythm set by his mouth.

Carmen buried her fingers in his hair and pressed him against her without the slightest modesty, rubbing her cunt over his face, fucking Rubén’s mouth with her hips.

—Yes, yes, yes, like that, eat all of me, don’t pull away, I’m coming, I’m coming now…

Rubén didn’t let up. He curled his fingers inside her, searching for the exact spot, and sucked her clitoris harder, without pause. He felt her whole body tense beneath his mouth, her thighs squeezing his ears, her belly trembling. Carmen clutched the edges of the table, held her breath, and then released it all at once, shuddering from head to toe with a long cry that ended in an incredulous laugh, while a warm stream wet Rubén’s chin and neck.

—Fuck, fuck, fuck —she repeated, one hand covering her face and the other still gripping his hair—. That’s never happened to me, never…

Rubén gave her no respite. He stood, unbuttoned his trousers, and yanked them down along with his underwear. His cock sprang free, hard enough to hurt, its tip glistening. Carmen opened her eyes and licked her lips without saying a word.

—Come here —she said, propping herself up on one elbow—. Bring that over.

She gently grabbed the back of his neck and brought his cock to her mouth. Carmen ran her tongue over the head, gathering the first drop, then swallowed him whole in one thrust, all the way down, until Rubén felt her throat close around the tip. She pulled her head back, drew breath, and lowered herself again, and again, sucking him hungrily, now with both hands, one at the base and the other massaging his balls. She covered his cock in saliva, pulled it from her mouth to lick it from top to bottom as if it were an ice cream, and spat on it before swallowing it again.

—That’s it, fuck, that’s it —he growled, gripping her hair—. You suck it so well.

Carmen smiled around his cock and sped up. Rubén let her continue for a few more seconds, then pulled her away, because if she kept going he would come in her mouth, and he still had other plans.

He laid her on her back on the table again, positioned himself between her legs, gripped his cock, and ran it along the cleft of her cunt, wetting it, rubbing the head against her clitoris. Carmen dug her heels into his kidneys.

—Put it in me already, don’t make me beg.

Rubén pushed into her in one stroke, all the way to the hilt, and they both moaned at once. Carmen’s cunt was so hot and tight that he had to stay still for a moment to keep from coming with the first thrust. He began slowly, pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in completely, with long strokes that made Carmen’s tits tremble every time his hips collided with hers.

—Harder —she asked—, fuck me harder, don’t show me any mercy.

Rubén grabbed her legs behind the knees, opened them wider, threw them over his shoulders, and began pounding into her in earnest. The table creaked beneath their combined weight, and the sound of wet, obscene sex filling the living room mingled with Carmen’s moans and the smell of almonds and soaked cunt.

—Tell me filthy things —she gasped—, tell me what you’re doing to me.

—I’m destroying your cunt —Rubén growled without ceasing his thrusts—. I’m fucking you all the way to the back. Can you feel it? You feel it in your belly, don’t you? You’re going to squeeze my cock until you milk every drop out of me.

—Yes, milk it all out, come inside me, I want to feel it…

Rubén pulled out suddenly, grabbed her by the hips, and flipped her facedown onto the table. He lifted her ass with both hands, spread her cheeks, and thrust into her from behind again in a single push. Carmen screamed into her crossed arms and began rocking her butt against him, fucking herself on his cock. Rubén slapped her ass, then again, watching the flesh tremble and redden, and sank his oiled thumb into her asshole while continuing to pound her from behind.

—Oh God, like that, like that, all at once, don’t stop, I’m coming again, fuck…

Carmen’s cunt clenched completely around his cock, squeezing it like a fist, and that finished Rubén. He dug his fingers into her hips, thrust to the hilt three or four more times, and came inside her with a long growl, emptying himself in hot spurts that made her moan each time she felt another one. He remained still for a few seconds, still inside her, breathing against the nape of her neck, until she herself collapsed facedown onto the table, dragging him down with her.

Evening was falling over the harbor beyond the curtains, tinting the sliver of light that filtered through orange. Inside, in the warm dimness that smelled of vanilla, almonds, and now sex, Carmen let out an incredulous laugh and turned her face to look at him.

—It was real —she said hoarsely, feeling the semen beginning to trickle down the inside of one thigh—. Your story. It was real.

Rubén rested his cheek against her back, still breathless, and smiled.

—The earlier part was fiction —he replied—. What’s happening now is the only thing that’s been true.

Carmen turned beneath him, sought his mouth, and they kissed at length, both tasting one another’s cunt and cock mingled together. Between kisses, she whispered in his ear that that very night she intended to give him more than enough material for the next chapter. She was going to suck him until he was dry, sit on top of him and not let him go until he came twice more, and this time, she warned him, biting his lip, she had no intention of staying still on the massage table.