When we got to the top of the stairs, Blair led me into a beautifully appointed private boudoir with ensuite bathroom.
But this was no ordinary bathroom. It was a luxury spa with heated white marble floors and countertops. In the middle of the expansive floor rested a linen-covered massage table with a plump pillow at the head. Next to a large window covered with soft sheers sat a large soaking tub filled with steaming water and floating rose petals. A subtle aroma of lemongrass permeated the room as soft music played from the overhead speakers.
“This will be your private suite to use as you please for the next twenty-four hours,” Blair said.
“If you’d like to relax with a warm bath or a stimulating shower, please make yourself comfortable. In thirty minutes, your masseuse will arrive to complete your preparation for the main event. If you need anything at all, please feel free to call us on the courtesy phone.”
I was amazed how relaxed and utterly nonchalant a naked woman could be in the company of strangers. Before the evening was over, I hoped to achieve a similar state of intrepidness. I wanted to strip off my clothes right there and ask Blair to join me in the tub, but I knew that was against the rules. Instead, I simply smiled and made love to her with my eyes.
“Thank you, Blair. I think a stimulating bath is just what my body could use right now. How will I find my way to the dining room?”
“Your attendant will escort you to the dining hall at the appointed hour. I look forward to seeing you then.”
So this wasn’t to be the last of her after all. My heart raced and my pussy pulsed at the thought of seeing her again. Blair turned and left the room, closing the main bedroom door softly behind her.
I took a few minutes to walk about the bedroom and washroom to appraise my surroundings. Everything about the accommodations was first-class. From the high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets on the king-size bed to the cherry-wood furnishings, it felt like a five-star hotel. They even had a large bottle of Evian water and a collection of dark chocolates on the nightstand beside the bed.
I swung open the doors to the large armoire to hang my clothes. A beautiful floral kimono hung on a padded silk hanger. I reached out and caressed the softness of the fabric. Forget one day—I’d like to book an entire week at this spa!
I disrobed and hung my blouse and skirt in the armoire, then laid my panties on the paper-lined shelf of the top drawer. Normally, I’d be reluctant to place my intimate clothes in a public area, but the paper smelled fresh and looked newly laid.
Now completely naked, I appraised myself in the full-length wardrobe mirror. I looked pretty damn good for a nearly middle-aged woman. My yoga-toned body was tight and curvy in all the right places. My full and natural breasts still sat high and firm on my chest with large brown nipples. Long shapely legs cascaded down from my heart-shaped ass, a small wedge of light showing between my slightly parted thighs.
I’d booked an appointment with my stylist the day before, and my shoulder-length hair rested perfectly straight just above my shoulders. The only thing that needed a slight trim was my pubic bush, which I’d intentionally let grow over the last week in anticipation of the esthetic grooming I knew was yet to come.
I unhooked the kimono from the armoire hanger and carried it to the edge of the bath, where I hung it on a hook next to the window. The water had been pre-heated to the perfect temperature—warm enough to relax my muscles, but not so hot to feel uncomfortable or scalding. I slowly lowered myself onto the oil-covered surface and parted the rose petals as my body submerged into the heavenly ocean.
I immediately felt the tension begin to ebb from my body as I lost myself in the sublime sensation enveloping me. The only sound I could hear was the soft music playing from the surround speakers and the gentle lapping of water against the sides of the tub. I lay my head back against the pillow placed at the top edge of the tub and soon nodded off.
Sometime later, I heard a soft tap on my bedroom door. Not wanting to remove myself just yet from my cocoon of luxury, I called out to answer.
“It’s time for your massage,” a woman’s voice replied.
“Just one minute please.”
I reluctantly stepped out of the bath and quickly toweled myself dry. I wrapped a large bath sheet around me, re-donned my mask, then opened the bedroom door.
A petite young Asian girl greeted me, wearing a kimono similar to mine and a crimson masquerade mask.
Apparently not everybody who works here always walks around stark naked.
The girl was utterly breathtaking. Long jet-black hair cascaded over high cheekbones past her pouty lips with delicate collarbones peeking from the top of her kimono. I could see her breasts and hips outlined by the tightly wrapped kimono and suddenly wished that she too had come to my boudoir naked.
“My name is Jasmine,” she said. “I’m your personal masseuse and esthetician. Are you ready for your final preparation?”
Just the thought of this beauty laying her tender hands on me sent a shiver down my spine.
“Definitely,” I said. “Please come in. How would you like me to prepare?”
“Come with me, please.”
Jasmine led me into the bathroom, where she nonchalantly removed her kimono and hung it behind the bathroom door.
Oh my God.
I didn’t think anyone in this place could get more beautiful or sensuous. Jasmine had perfectly shaped B-cup breasts with a thin indentation running down the center of her toned stomach. Like everyone else in this place, her pubis was utterly bald and flawless. She barely looked eighteen and I was just about to ask her age, but she spoke first.
“If you’d like to remove your towel and lay face down on the table, we can get started. May I call you Jade?”
There was something about her confident manner and tone that belied her youthful appearance. I had no inhibitions whatsoever about displaying myself unclothed to this stranger.
“Yes, thank you, Jasmine.” I unhooked my bath sheet and threw it against the side of the tub.
“Would you like me to drape your backside?” Jasmine asked.
“That won’t be necessary,” I quickly answered.
Jasmine walked over to the vanity counter and picked up two small bottles of oil resting under an orange radiant lamp. She brought them back to the massage table, opened one, and poured the oil into one cupped hand then rubbed her hands together. The scent of lavender wafted toward my nose.
I closed my eyes in anticipation of her touch. I’d had massages before, but nothing as sensuous and stimulating as this. When her hands touched the small of my back, I flinched reflexively from the sexual tension. My heart was beating a hundred miles an hour as I felt the blood coursing through my veins.
Jasmine must have sensed my nervous tension and began pressing her fingers more firmly into my back as she moved them slowly up each side of my spine. The warm oil allowed her hands to glide effortlessly across my skin. She used every surface of her hands to massage my muscles, expertly kneading my skin with her fingers and palm.
I began to relax as my muscles softened and surrendered to her touch. She sensuously massaged every part of my back, shoulders, and neck, applying just the right amount of pressure. Periodically, she would pour more warm oil on my lower back, dipping her hands in it to replenish the silky lubrication against my pliant skin.
Just as the sexual tension began to subside from the utter relaxation of the massage, Jasmine moved her hands down to my buttocks and began to caress them in soft circular motions. My glutes contracted involuntarily and I unconsciously pressed my mound into the firm padding of the table. Suddenly I was quickly reminded that a gorgeous young woman was caressing my naked body. She cupped each buttock between her hands as she massaged my ass tantalizingly, her little finger sliding slowly into the cleft just above my anus.
Periodically, I’d partially open one of my eyes with my head turned in her direction to look at her gorgeous body. My head was at the same level as her midsection, and my mouth watered as I watched her stomach muscles flex and her hips undulate with each movement of her hands. At times her pussy was almost right beside me and I wanted to reach out and run my own fingers up her soft legs.
I was in total heaven, and getting wetter by the moment. Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, she suddenly moved her hands down to my feet and began massaging her thumbs into my soles.
I’d always loved having my feet massaged, but nobody did it like Jasmine. She cradled my foot and used every part of her hands to massage and knead every surface from my heel to my toes. I didn’t want her to stop, but there were other parts of my body that were screaming for attention.
As if reading my thoughts, she began moving her hands up toward my calf, using her thumbs to spread the muscle apart. She lingered almost as long on my calf as she had on my foot, rolling the ball of my calf between both of her hands, sliding her slick hands up and down erotically. I couldn’t help imagining how she might use those same hands to massage a man’s erect cock in a similar manner. My mind wandered again to what pleasures lay in wait for me over dinner.
After shifting her hands to my right leg and giving my other foot and calf similar attention, she placed each hand just behind my knees and began to slowly move them up towards my buttocks. Her thumbs pressed against my inner thighs as she glided tantalizingly close to my apex.
I rolled my legs outward in an invitation to move closer. My legs were parted enough that I was sure she could see my vulva from her vantage point behind me. In my highly aroused state, my lips were engorged and spread apart, revealing my moist and quivering opening.
But as much as I desperately wanted her to, Jasmine never touched me there. She repeatedly slid her hands right up to the edge of my slit, pressing and rotating her thumbs on the fleshy meat of my upper thighs just below my aching pussy. I suppose this was part of her master plan—to tease me mercilessly and inflame my passions so I’d be ready for just about anything at the main event.
It was certainly working. After thirty minutes of Jasmine’s ministrations, I was grinding my pussy into the table trying desperately to give my clit some needed direct stimulation.
Just when I thought I couldn’t be teased any more tantalizingly, Jasmine opened one of the bottles of warm oil and poured it directly into the crack of my ass. She paused as the fluid flowed down and directly over my parted lips. I almost came from the gentle movement of the warm liquid as it trickled across the folds of my labia, channeled toward the junction where they joined together at my clit. I shuddered in pleasure at the feeling, even if it was only the subtlest of touch.
Jasmine suddenly interrupted my thoughts.
“Would you like to turn over now?”
It was the first time she’d spoken directly to me since the massage started, and it surprised me in my catatonic, pre-orgasmic state. I practically flipped over like a fish out of water, spreading my legs expectantly. Finally, I’d get some relief. Surely, she couldn’t leave me hanging like this.
“It’s time for your final grooming,” she said. “I’ll need you to part your legs a bit further to provide full access.”
Grooming? I knew this was part of the process, but somehow it didn’t seem fair to transition at this precise moment. At least I’d be able to stay on the comfortable massage table instead of the clinical vinyl chairs used by my regular esthetician.
Jasmine walked over to another cabinet by the makeup table and withdrew a leather bag from one of the drawers, then brought it back to the table. She reached into the bag and pulled out a cordless hair trimmer.
“Do you have a preference regarding your appearance?” she asked. “Do you prefer natural, neatly trimmed, or bare?”
I knew she was referring to my pubic hair, which I generally kept neatly trimmed. I’d always thought going fully bald was unnatural and unseemly, catering to men’s prurient fantasies of fucking young schoolgirls. But in this situation, it seemed entirely appropriate, like I was stripping away all my camouflage and armor.
If tonight was all about being watched, I might as well bare myself in every sense of the word and truly let my inhibitions go. I began to fantasize about rubbing my bare pussy against Jasmine’s while she poured warm oil between us. The more work she had to do on me, the more chance I’d have to make this last and hopefully get off.
I didn’t hesitate. “Bare, thank you.”
“As you wish,” she said. “I’ll remove the long hairs first with the trimmer, then shave you smooth with a razor.”
No waxing? This was different. I was relieved to not have to bear the painful and violent trial of having my hairs ripped out en masse. Although shaving down there was always a scary proposition, I felt safe in the capable and practiced hands of this beautiful esthetician.
Jasmine nodded, then flipped a switch on the trimmer. The device buzzed softly as she placed it gently on my mound. I had only a light dusting of fur and it didn’t take long for her to remove it with a few short strokes over my pubis. I shuddered as the vibrations penetrated deep into my core. If she had placed the flat head on my clitoris, I would have popped off in a millisecond. Instead, she turned the trimmer face-down and gently swiped the vibrating teeth against the sides of my vulva, sensuously separating my labia with her hands as she moved the device between my legs to trim the hairs on the inside and outside of my labia.
It was an insanely titillating feeling, but just clinical enough to bring me down from my plateau and shift my focus. My mind wandered to the upcoming feast, and I contemplated what surprises lay in wait at the main event. The hostess had suggested there would be ‘contact’ of some sort during the meal, and I was intrigued as to who and how it would be administered. The idea of being fully bald, cleansed, and thoroughly stimulated going into the event was an incredible rush.
Jasmine continued with the trimmer all the way down my perineum to my anus, barely touching me with the trimmer so as not to pinch any delicate tissues. Apparently, there were no parts of my erogenous zone that would remain untouched, now—and perhaps later.
She turned off the trimmer and placed it at the foot of the table. Then she took a bottle of gel from the bag and spread the gel on her hands. Using both hands, she spread it gently between my legs, starting on my mound all the way down to my rosebud.
My body almost levitated above the table as Jasmine finally laid her hands directly on my clitoris. The gel had a mild stinging quality that added to the stimulating sensation. If this was meant to excite my follicles in preparation for the shave, it wasn’t the only feature of my anatomy that it made erect. I could feel the hood of my clitoris retract as my button filled with blood and began to push outward. Suddenly, I was fully stimulated again and lusting for Jasmine’s touch. I fantasized about her bending down and taking my swollen nub between her puffy lips and letting me come in her mouth.
Unfortunately, my satisfaction would have to wait a little longer. Instead, Jasmine reached into her bag and pulled out a straight-edge razor. In anyone else’s hands, it might look threatening, especially in my prostrated and vulnerable position. But something about the way she delicately and sensuously opened the jackknifed tool instantly evaporated my fears. I could see how this type of razor would in fact give her better control safely cutting my stubs instead of the usual ladies’ plastic razor.
With her right hand, Jasmine gently laid the razor on its flat edge at the top of my mound, while she gently pulled my skin upwards with her other hand. Then she slowly turned the sharp edge perpendicular to my skin and began softly scraping the razor downwards. I could hear the bristling sound as the razor edge removed my nubs right down to the follicles. She repeated the pattern in one-inch-wide swipes on one side then the other of my pubis, being ever-so-careful to stop just where my clitoris lay quivering in a mixture of fear and excitement. There was something about the utter vulnerability of the procedure that made it the most erotic experience I’d ever had.
Jasmine used the same deft touch as she moved down my vulva and perineum, scraping the vestiges of stray hairs away with gentle swipes of the long blade, while sensuously separating my folds and flesh with her other hand. She took extra time and care around my anus and clit, using the gentlest and slowest motion I’ve ever felt someone apply to my body. The combination of fright and titillation as she probed my most sensitive body parts created a river of sensuous fluids running down my vulva. By this time, no shaving gel was necessary to provide a smooth gliding surface for the knife.
When she was finished, Jasmine retrieved a fresh wash towel from beside the sink and held it under the warm water faucet then twisted the excess water into the basin. She returned to the table and placed it over my splayed legs then gently cleansed the excess moisture and remaining shaving gel with gentle massaging movements of her hands. The warm, moist towel felt exquisite against my newly shaved skin. Jasmine’s hands now felt comforting between my legs rather than erotic.
She had taken me on an incredibly sensuous erotic arc, right to the edge of ecstasy and back, to a quiet relaxed place. I exhaled fully and completely for the first time in almost an hour.
Jasmine removed the towel from between my legs and held up a large hand mirror at a forty-five-degree angle toward me.
“What do you think?” she asked.
I tilted my head up and studied her masterpiece. Far from the usual red and swollen vulva that I typically experienced after the violent waxing with my regular esthetician, I’d never seen my pussy look so beautiful. Utterly bereft of any hair, my entire perineum from my pubic mound to my anus was totally bald, pink—and gorgeous. I just stared at my beautiful pussy, utterly transfixed by the transformation.
“You have to feel it to really appreciate how beautiful you are,” Jasmine purred.
I moved my right hand down, running my fingers along the edges of my pussy. I gasped from a feeling I’d never felt before. It felt smooth as silk: no bumps or blemishes or cuts or bruises. It was almost as if I was feeling somebody else—somebody I’d never felt before. I couldn’t stop my left hand joining the other in rubbing and caressing my sensitive organs.
Jasmine lowered the mirror and smiled at me as I felt the moisture begin to accumulate between my legs again.
“It’s almost time for your dinner appointment,” she said. “Why don’t you save the best for last? I think you’ll find plenty of ways to satisfy your appetite over the next couple of hours.”
She lifted my kimono from the hook at the edge of the bathtub and held it open for me.
“I’ll escort you downstairs now if you’re ready. All you need to bring is your kimono and slippers—and your mask of course.”
I sat up slowly and stepped off the massage table. Turning around, I held my arms out as Jasmine lifted one arm of the silk robe onto me then the other. Then she turned around to face me, wrapped the silk tie around me, and tied a single bow over my belly button. She retrieved my matching silk slippers and knelt down on one knee to gently lift my feet one at a time and place them softly inside. It took every ounce of my power not to grab her head and pull it into my pulsating pussy.
Jasmine stood up gracefully and smiled into my eyes.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you now to the fantasy feast.”
She didn’t even bother putting her own robe on. Her tight little ass barely jiggled as she stepped smartly ahead of me. I wasn’t sure if I’d have a chance to feel Jasmine’s touch again before the evening was over, but for now I was in total bliss ogling her petite, curvaceous figure from behind.
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