Yesterday I've started writing new story.
BEGINNING:
This summer Lajla and her husband decided to spend their traditional five-day vacation in Cyprus. Naturally, doing so included their son and daughter, aged 5 and 2, which turned their vacation into quite the endeavour. But they were determined to make it a great time for the whole family, having arrived all the way from Norway.
Lajla and Agust have been taking their yearly vacations practically since they met; it was their own thing from before they had any children, visiting a different country every year. Of course, their earlier trips without comparable responsibilities were fairly different, but now is not the time to recount any of those situations. As has been concluded, Lajla and her husband found themselves in Cyprus.
All they did during the first three days in the city was to run from one touristic attraction to another, trying to make the best of their time, all the while handling their kids' endless list of needs and wishes. It was her husband, Agust, who suggested that they each take some time off; while one of the spouses stayed with the children, the other would pursue an evening in the city all by himself… As well as herself, respectively.
And so they did, or, at least, Agust did. On the fourth day of their holidays, he had, as planned, a lovely time strolling the city, receiving a massage by a young, black-haired and big-breasted woman, fantasizing about the masseuse, It wasn't like he wasn't crazy about his own wife and her body; perhaps her bosom wasn't quite as big, but right now her tits were filled with milk for their daughter, and she also had those smooth, milky legs, with an utterly voluptuous ass on top, as well as a bit of cellulite to make her big white buttocks even tastier. Besides, other men really enjoyed looking at her and every such occasion made her husband jealous to no avail.
Thus when the fifth day came along, upon observing his wife all dressed up and ready to enjoy her own time alone, he expressed his concerns about her being alone in the city. It's not like he didn't notice the lustful eyes on both the natives and the other tourist men alike; but especially the native men, often hairy, dark-haired and dark-skinned men, who seem to hold a special liking to blonde white women as such. Naturally, Lajla's remarkable bottom was of no help in that regard, nor the fact that she prefered showing herself desireable, wearing her sexy stiletto heels with only a couple of laces around her feet, most of the time clothed in dresses that revealed her whole back, or sporting a decollete a tad too deep into her chest; there was always something about her that made him crazy both ways and even made him wonder whether she really loved him as much as she claimed.
'You're not feeling well anyway', she said, due to Agust's' stomach problems earlier that day. 'Don't be sillly – I'll be back in a couple of hours. And you like it when I look nice… What, should I stay locked inside because other men might look at me? Honey, be mature. I'm really looking forward to my bath and massage, you know… Agust, you already had your fun. Now's my turn!'
Agust had no right to forbid her anything now, she thought. In the end, he too had decided to let it go. She deserved to have her own time, anyhow, and he might've felt a little guilty about the busty masseuse. Perhaps he would masturbate to her image a bit later, he thought, despite his so-called guilt. So Lajla had decided to visit to the spa, where she would wash herself and relax her mind, as well as treat herself to a well-deserved massage, just like her husband, after a thorough bath.
'Don't worry about a thing, honey. I can take care of myself. Besides, I'm taking a cab.'
'Right', said Agust. 'Watch out for yourself. We are in a foreign country.'
'I told you not to worry. I can take care of myself', Lajla proclaimed, slapping her own ass, and thrusting out her lips in Agust's' direction, as if sending him a kiss.
Lajla
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couplecouple88
- Virgin
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 1:23 am
Re: Lajla
Next chapter:
Her husband was pouting, but the last thing he wanted to do was to treat her unfairly; after all, she was a dedicated, wonderful mother to their children, and she deserved her own time just as he did.
Lajla rode the cab to a lively part of the city in the vicinity of her actual destination. She intended to enjoy her me-time to its full potential, tasting local treats, checking out a bunch of the stores with all their dresses. She had noticed many boys and men ogling her body as she passed them by; they were sitting everywhere, on the benches and in the streets, talking or idling on the curb or in front of their shops and workshops, drinking and smoking.
As a married woman, she didn't mind other men looking, but she held what she considered her role in her marriage in the highest regard. When a couple of boys yelled out something unintelligible to her, she tried to shrug it off, but started wondering whether she should have worn plain sandals after all, feeling her swaying behind burned by the sheer number of hungry eyes. So she hurried to the spa, walking with her long, thick legs in stilettos, unwillingly flailing her sweaty buttocks to every passerby.
When she entered the spa she was surprised to find herself surrounded by men. In fact, there were only men to be found. There wasn't a woman in sight. Soon she learned that the women's bath area was off limits due to a repair of some sort.'But when will it be open?' Lajla asked the clerk behind the counter, a well-built clean-shaven man, wearing a black T-shirt with the spa's logo. His hairy arms appeared very firm and strong to her; very manly, she thought.
'Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. I don't know', he said without emotion, as he eyed her naked shoulders, partially covered by her blonde curls.
'But I really wanted to take a bath… Is there no way to make it happen? Please, this is my last chance…'
'I'm sorry. It's impossible', he turned her down. 'They're changing the filters in the pools.'
'Well, can I at least proceed to my massage then? I have a reservation on my name for a full-body massage at eight. It's on Lajla xxxxxx.'
'Yes, one moment. It seems that we have nobody before you. I don't know if we can fit you in before your reservation… I guess I could ask, if you wish.'
'Well, I do. Please, it's my last night and I was really looking forward to this evening'
'Very well, Miss Lajla, it is okay for you to receive your massage now. Please follow me.'
'Yay'
The man stood up and led Lajla through a long hallway and into a dimly lit room, where he instructed her to prepare for the massage by stripping and lying her body face-down on the leather-clad massage table in the middle. Before leaving, he opened the only closet in the room and handed Lajla a relatively small white towel.
'Wait,Am I supposed to cover myself with only this? I mean, should I just wait here naked, lying on the table? I don't…'
'Of course,You just have to wait for a few minutes, Miss Lajla. Enjoy your massage.'
As he was speaking his last words, he squeezed her left shoulder and left before she could react. She stood there looking at the table, feeling a bit bewildered at the prospect of lying naked in an unlocked room, waiting for the masseuse. But it was hot and she felt as if her body was steaming from all those men watching her butt wobble throughout their city, as well as this whole situation in the spa; a drop of sweat ran down her thigh and around her knee, all the way down her leg, reaching her foot, where a small tattoo of a stylized lizard could be seen on her milky white ankle.
The masseuse better be good, she thought, taking off her tight dress over her head, as well as her bra, finally leaving her clothes on a couple of hangers by the door. She sat on the only chair in the room, a small leather one; her buttocks were sticking to the leather as she untied the laces of her heels, leaving the shoes underneath her dress and bra. Climbing the massage table by lifting her left leg, Lajla could feel a another drop of sweat running down her back and into the thong between her buttocks. Finally she settled on the desk, which was comfortable on its own, by putting the towel across her bare ass, unprotected other than by the soft fabric of the fine towel that she received earlier, wearing merely a thin string of underwear over her vagina and anus.
'Good evening', said a male voice.
'Um, good evening'
Approaching was a dark-haired man with a well-kept, short black beard,in the same sort of T-shirt like the one worn by the clerk, flexing his fingers on the ends of his formidable, obviously very strong, as well as very hairy arms. He was quite the intimidating male, so big and muscular.
'Miss Lajla, I am Bahadir. How are you feeling?'
'Good… I mean, I'm great, thank you'
'First we need to relax your body in order for the massage to be effective,Please put your head over there'
'I understand – please, go ahead'
She could see his muscular hairy legs on one side, as he was wearing shorts, and nothing but the carpeted floor on the other. The masseur wasted no time as he slowly poured a scented oil all over Lajla's upper body, letting it flow down her back, almost all the way to the towel covering her waist, but he spread the oil to the sides of her torso and up to her neck just before it could reach her thong. She was by no means a thin woman; as was already mentioned, Lajla was quite the luscious wife and mother. At her height of 170 cm, her smooth long legs and formidable thighs were a fantastic sight for every man with the chance to catch sight of them, and now this big masseur got to look at them as much as he wanted, as well as her back, her neck, her shoulders and her blonde hair. And not only that; he also got to touch her body how he deemed it to be appropriate.
Then the masseur adjusted the table that she was lying on, with her breasts, belly and thighs sticking to the leather, slightly raising the table's upper part so her head got to be a bit higher than her legs. Lajla worriedly felt the towel slip a bit downward. No, no, please don't slip… Merely imagining her butt becoming exposed to this stranger made her at once nervous and aroused. The man took her blonde locks with his hand, and pushed them to the sides of her head, so as to not have her hair oiled up during the massage. Then he started touching her back, squeezing and pulling on her skin, into her white flesh.
God, that feels good, thought Lajla. What am I doing thinking that way, anyway… This man is obviously a professional. I shouldn't be so prejudiced just because I'm a desireable white woman… I can't help but wonder what he's thinking about, though.
She sighed gently, admittedly enjoying the massage from the very start, feeling relief in all of her bodily parts that the masseur got hold of. He was rubbing her back exquisitely, freeing her upper body of tension, removing several tense knots in her muscles. Lajla instinctively moved her arms above her head, grabbing the desk at its upward-tilted end, granting him access other points of her back, loving the feeling of being massaged by strong, manly arms.Almost immediately his hands approached the sides of her torso, progressing toward her lower back, first by pushing below her armpits, then on the sides of her ribs, near her breasts, squeezing her into the table, continuing all the way below her ribs, and at last around her waist, reaching just a bit below the towel, touching her hips by the ends of his fingers.
As she felt his fingers reach below the towel, Lajla involuntarily flexed her buttocks.The masseur didn't give a sign that he even noticed her flinching, anyhow; he laid his palms flat on her slippery, oiled-up pelvis, squeezing his way back up to her neck, where he continued by rubbing her shoulders.She found it impossible to move, or rather, she wouldn't know where to move even if she wanted, feeling both relaxed and trapped, obviously at the mercy of an unknown man's hands.
I need to cut it out with the stupid thoughts. I'm having my well-deserved massage and I need to relax, she thought.Oh God, I really should have dressed better for this, Lajla thought. What if the towel really slips off my ass? I should have put on some granny panties instead of the thong…
The man continued massaging her lower back just above her pelvis, pushing her into the table, all the while reaching to her sides and drawing circles almost on her hips, not seeming to mind that he was encountering the strings of her tight thong. Once again, Lajla sighed out of delight.
'Everything okay?'
'Oh, yes, yes. Thank you. Everything is wonderful.You know, I'm a mother of two and I can't tell you how much I've wanted to relax these past few days.'
'Good. I enjoy my work as much as my clients'
It seemed as if he was now handling her body a little stronger than before. And now that she mentioned that she was a mother, Lajla suddenly felt vulnerable. She wasn't an innocent little girl by no means, especially when she was a bit younger – many men got to know her as flirty even after she met Agust – but what he said made her wonder whether there was some other sort of meaning hidden beneath his words. She decided to shrug it off; it's not as if she could do anything now, anyway. She definitely didn't want the massage to end, though. Then the man lifted his hands off her lower back and proceeded to oil up her legs from the towel on her butt to her feet, massaging her ankles at first. Lajla sighed when she felt him reach for her feet as well. He squeezed her soles strongly from heel to toe; to her surprise, he also put his fingers between her toes, oiling up the very last bits of her feet.
The next moment he grabbed her strongly by the ankles, and Lajla felt as if he might have done so to indulge his own wishes, rather than hers. However, right now she would let him do whatever he wished as long as he was doing it this well. He continued up her legs, rubbing and squeezing, relentlessly pushing his fingers into her thighs, reaching lower on her sides, but arriving higher and higher, noticeably very near her buttocks.
Agust would be really mad if he saw this big strong man fondling my thighs like this. The way he's running his fingers around my hips, all the way under the towel, you could almost say that he's playing with my ass, she thought. My buttocks are jiggling all over the place. But I guess he'll be done soon anyway… Woah, he's really going at it…
The masseur advanced deeper to the sides of her hips, enveloping Lajla's relaxed ass with his hands, pushing the towel further up her back by grabbing most of the meaty parts of her fat bottom, digging into the cellulite, Lajla' milky rear flesh spreading to the sides of the table. Surprised by his hands around her butt, Lajla became slightly unnerved, squeezing her jaws together, not knowing how to react; she felt the air move beneath her legs so she had to assume that her thong must be showing by now.
'Is the massage really as long as it said on your flyer?'
'Yes. I'm providing a full-body oil massage – it's what you paid for. 'Is everything alright?'
'Yes, yes, everything's okay. I just wish the massage would last forever',
He smiled as he went down her legs again; now he was grabbing her knees, rubbing them from below, slightly raising her legs by doing so, as well as the towel with them.The man didn't flinch nor hesitate in the slightest as he was forcefully rubbing her knees, as well as the rest of her legs from below, approaching her hips for yet another time, oiling Lajla up so she thought that she might start slipping off the table.At that moment Lajla remembered something very unfortunate in her given situation. Her eyes grew wider as she exclaimed: 'Wait – you said what I paid for, but I didn't pay for anything yet.'
'Wait – you said what I paid for, but I didn't pay for anything yet.'
'No problem,you can pay after we finish here.'
Namely, she had just realized that she had spent most of her cash on the ride downtown, and most of the rest on tasty pastries and a glass of wine; now she had only about four hundred Turkish liras left in her purse. Of course, it would present no problem at all, if, incredibly, she had not forgotten her credit card in the apartment! Agust had taken it the night before, and it must have slipped his mind to return it to her.
'I'm sorry, could you tell me the price?'
'The price?'
'Um, I mean the price for the full-body massage that you're giving me now'
'Our price for a full-body massage is 100eur, Miss Lajla'
'Oh my…we might have a problem…'
He was going at her shoulders again; suddenly he grabbed her hair with one of his hands, holding it gently against her skull, while he was touching her bare shoulders, as well as her neck, and reaching down to her collarbone where her soft tits were showing their most upper, bulging bits, squeezed against the table.
'Mhm… A problem, Miss Lajla?'
He applied more oil, and squeezed wherever his hands found themselves going, slipping over her milky-white body in all directions, passing over the strings of her thong and the sides of her tits. Lajla felt aroused by the way he touched her everywhere, having to keep herself from moaning.
'Erm, yes… Well, you see, uh, apparently I forgot my money. So I actually have no money on me to pay for the massage'
'What do you mean you have no money?'
'I mean, I forgot to take my credit card with me. But I can leave my purse here… I always carry my ID on me, of course, and I can pay right after I…'
'Huh. Please wait a moment. I must check what we are supposed to do in such a situation. Excuse me'
Her husband was pouting, but the last thing he wanted to do was to treat her unfairly; after all, she was a dedicated, wonderful mother to their children, and she deserved her own time just as he did.
Lajla rode the cab to a lively part of the city in the vicinity of her actual destination. She intended to enjoy her me-time to its full potential, tasting local treats, checking out a bunch of the stores with all their dresses. She had noticed many boys and men ogling her body as she passed them by; they were sitting everywhere, on the benches and in the streets, talking or idling on the curb or in front of their shops and workshops, drinking and smoking.
As a married woman, she didn't mind other men looking, but she held what she considered her role in her marriage in the highest regard. When a couple of boys yelled out something unintelligible to her, she tried to shrug it off, but started wondering whether she should have worn plain sandals after all, feeling her swaying behind burned by the sheer number of hungry eyes. So she hurried to the spa, walking with her long, thick legs in stilettos, unwillingly flailing her sweaty buttocks to every passerby.
When she entered the spa she was surprised to find herself surrounded by men. In fact, there were only men to be found. There wasn't a woman in sight. Soon she learned that the women's bath area was off limits due to a repair of some sort.'But when will it be open?' Lajla asked the clerk behind the counter, a well-built clean-shaven man, wearing a black T-shirt with the spa's logo. His hairy arms appeared very firm and strong to her; very manly, she thought.
'Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. I don't know', he said without emotion, as he eyed her naked shoulders, partially covered by her blonde curls.
'But I really wanted to take a bath… Is there no way to make it happen? Please, this is my last chance…'
'I'm sorry. It's impossible', he turned her down. 'They're changing the filters in the pools.'
'Well, can I at least proceed to my massage then? I have a reservation on my name for a full-body massage at eight. It's on Lajla xxxxxx.'
'Yes, one moment. It seems that we have nobody before you. I don't know if we can fit you in before your reservation… I guess I could ask, if you wish.'
'Well, I do. Please, it's my last night and I was really looking forward to this evening'
'Very well, Miss Lajla, it is okay for you to receive your massage now. Please follow me.'
'Yay'
The man stood up and led Lajla through a long hallway and into a dimly lit room, where he instructed her to prepare for the massage by stripping and lying her body face-down on the leather-clad massage table in the middle. Before leaving, he opened the only closet in the room and handed Lajla a relatively small white towel.
'Wait,Am I supposed to cover myself with only this? I mean, should I just wait here naked, lying on the table? I don't…'
'Of course,You just have to wait for a few minutes, Miss Lajla. Enjoy your massage.'
As he was speaking his last words, he squeezed her left shoulder and left before she could react. She stood there looking at the table, feeling a bit bewildered at the prospect of lying naked in an unlocked room, waiting for the masseuse. But it was hot and she felt as if her body was steaming from all those men watching her butt wobble throughout their city, as well as this whole situation in the spa; a drop of sweat ran down her thigh and around her knee, all the way down her leg, reaching her foot, where a small tattoo of a stylized lizard could be seen on her milky white ankle.
The masseuse better be good, she thought, taking off her tight dress over her head, as well as her bra, finally leaving her clothes on a couple of hangers by the door. She sat on the only chair in the room, a small leather one; her buttocks were sticking to the leather as she untied the laces of her heels, leaving the shoes underneath her dress and bra. Climbing the massage table by lifting her left leg, Lajla could feel a another drop of sweat running down her back and into the thong between her buttocks. Finally she settled on the desk, which was comfortable on its own, by putting the towel across her bare ass, unprotected other than by the soft fabric of the fine towel that she received earlier, wearing merely a thin string of underwear over her vagina and anus.
'Good evening', said a male voice.
'Um, good evening'
Approaching was a dark-haired man with a well-kept, short black beard,in the same sort of T-shirt like the one worn by the clerk, flexing his fingers on the ends of his formidable, obviously very strong, as well as very hairy arms. He was quite the intimidating male, so big and muscular.
'Miss Lajla, I am Bahadir. How are you feeling?'
'Good… I mean, I'm great, thank you'
'First we need to relax your body in order for the massage to be effective,Please put your head over there'
'I understand – please, go ahead'
She could see his muscular hairy legs on one side, as he was wearing shorts, and nothing but the carpeted floor on the other. The masseur wasted no time as he slowly poured a scented oil all over Lajla's upper body, letting it flow down her back, almost all the way to the towel covering her waist, but he spread the oil to the sides of her torso and up to her neck just before it could reach her thong. She was by no means a thin woman; as was already mentioned, Lajla was quite the luscious wife and mother. At her height of 170 cm, her smooth long legs and formidable thighs were a fantastic sight for every man with the chance to catch sight of them, and now this big masseur got to look at them as much as he wanted, as well as her back, her neck, her shoulders and her blonde hair. And not only that; he also got to touch her body how he deemed it to be appropriate.
Then the masseur adjusted the table that she was lying on, with her breasts, belly and thighs sticking to the leather, slightly raising the table's upper part so her head got to be a bit higher than her legs. Lajla worriedly felt the towel slip a bit downward. No, no, please don't slip… Merely imagining her butt becoming exposed to this stranger made her at once nervous and aroused. The man took her blonde locks with his hand, and pushed them to the sides of her head, so as to not have her hair oiled up during the massage. Then he started touching her back, squeezing and pulling on her skin, into her white flesh.
God, that feels good, thought Lajla. What am I doing thinking that way, anyway… This man is obviously a professional. I shouldn't be so prejudiced just because I'm a desireable white woman… I can't help but wonder what he's thinking about, though.
She sighed gently, admittedly enjoying the massage from the very start, feeling relief in all of her bodily parts that the masseur got hold of. He was rubbing her back exquisitely, freeing her upper body of tension, removing several tense knots in her muscles. Lajla instinctively moved her arms above her head, grabbing the desk at its upward-tilted end, granting him access other points of her back, loving the feeling of being massaged by strong, manly arms.Almost immediately his hands approached the sides of her torso, progressing toward her lower back, first by pushing below her armpits, then on the sides of her ribs, near her breasts, squeezing her into the table, continuing all the way below her ribs, and at last around her waist, reaching just a bit below the towel, touching her hips by the ends of his fingers.
As she felt his fingers reach below the towel, Lajla involuntarily flexed her buttocks.The masseur didn't give a sign that he even noticed her flinching, anyhow; he laid his palms flat on her slippery, oiled-up pelvis, squeezing his way back up to her neck, where he continued by rubbing her shoulders.She found it impossible to move, or rather, she wouldn't know where to move even if she wanted, feeling both relaxed and trapped, obviously at the mercy of an unknown man's hands.
I need to cut it out with the stupid thoughts. I'm having my well-deserved massage and I need to relax, she thought.Oh God, I really should have dressed better for this, Lajla thought. What if the towel really slips off my ass? I should have put on some granny panties instead of the thong…
The man continued massaging her lower back just above her pelvis, pushing her into the table, all the while reaching to her sides and drawing circles almost on her hips, not seeming to mind that he was encountering the strings of her tight thong. Once again, Lajla sighed out of delight.
'Everything okay?'
'Oh, yes, yes. Thank you. Everything is wonderful.You know, I'm a mother of two and I can't tell you how much I've wanted to relax these past few days.'
'Good. I enjoy my work as much as my clients'
It seemed as if he was now handling her body a little stronger than before. And now that she mentioned that she was a mother, Lajla suddenly felt vulnerable. She wasn't an innocent little girl by no means, especially when she was a bit younger – many men got to know her as flirty even after she met Agust – but what he said made her wonder whether there was some other sort of meaning hidden beneath his words. She decided to shrug it off; it's not as if she could do anything now, anyway. She definitely didn't want the massage to end, though. Then the man lifted his hands off her lower back and proceeded to oil up her legs from the towel on her butt to her feet, massaging her ankles at first. Lajla sighed when she felt him reach for her feet as well. He squeezed her soles strongly from heel to toe; to her surprise, he also put his fingers between her toes, oiling up the very last bits of her feet.
The next moment he grabbed her strongly by the ankles, and Lajla felt as if he might have done so to indulge his own wishes, rather than hers. However, right now she would let him do whatever he wished as long as he was doing it this well. He continued up her legs, rubbing and squeezing, relentlessly pushing his fingers into her thighs, reaching lower on her sides, but arriving higher and higher, noticeably very near her buttocks.
Agust would be really mad if he saw this big strong man fondling my thighs like this. The way he's running his fingers around my hips, all the way under the towel, you could almost say that he's playing with my ass, she thought. My buttocks are jiggling all over the place. But I guess he'll be done soon anyway… Woah, he's really going at it…
The masseur advanced deeper to the sides of her hips, enveloping Lajla's relaxed ass with his hands, pushing the towel further up her back by grabbing most of the meaty parts of her fat bottom, digging into the cellulite, Lajla' milky rear flesh spreading to the sides of the table. Surprised by his hands around her butt, Lajla became slightly unnerved, squeezing her jaws together, not knowing how to react; she felt the air move beneath her legs so she had to assume that her thong must be showing by now.
'Is the massage really as long as it said on your flyer?'
'Yes. I'm providing a full-body oil massage – it's what you paid for. 'Is everything alright?'
'Yes, yes, everything's okay. I just wish the massage would last forever',
He smiled as he went down her legs again; now he was grabbing her knees, rubbing them from below, slightly raising her legs by doing so, as well as the towel with them.The man didn't flinch nor hesitate in the slightest as he was forcefully rubbing her knees, as well as the rest of her legs from below, approaching her hips for yet another time, oiling Lajla up so she thought that she might start slipping off the table.At that moment Lajla remembered something very unfortunate in her given situation. Her eyes grew wider as she exclaimed: 'Wait – you said what I paid for, but I didn't pay for anything yet.'
'Wait – you said what I paid for, but I didn't pay for anything yet.'
'No problem,you can pay after we finish here.'
Namely, she had just realized that she had spent most of her cash on the ride downtown, and most of the rest on tasty pastries and a glass of wine; now she had only about four hundred Turkish liras left in her purse. Of course, it would present no problem at all, if, incredibly, she had not forgotten her credit card in the apartment! Agust had taken it the night before, and it must have slipped his mind to return it to her.
'I'm sorry, could you tell me the price?'
'The price?'
'Um, I mean the price for the full-body massage that you're giving me now'
'Our price for a full-body massage is 100eur, Miss Lajla'
'Oh my…we might have a problem…'
He was going at her shoulders again; suddenly he grabbed her hair with one of his hands, holding it gently against her skull, while he was touching her bare shoulders, as well as her neck, and reaching down to her collarbone where her soft tits were showing their most upper, bulging bits, squeezed against the table.
'Mhm… A problem, Miss Lajla?'
He applied more oil, and squeezed wherever his hands found themselves going, slipping over her milky-white body in all directions, passing over the strings of her thong and the sides of her tits. Lajla felt aroused by the way he touched her everywhere, having to keep herself from moaning.
'Erm, yes… Well, you see, uh, apparently I forgot my money. So I actually have no money on me to pay for the massage'
'What do you mean you have no money?'
'I mean, I forgot to take my credit card with me. But I can leave my purse here… I always carry my ID on me, of course, and I can pay right after I…'
'Huh. Please wait a moment. I must check what we are supposed to do in such a situation. Excuse me'
-
couplecouple88
- Virgin
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 1:23 am
Re: Lajla
Next chapter:
Lajla laid there all oiled-up, trapped in her thong, covered by nothing more than a small wrinkled towel over her butt, not knowing what else she could do right now. Well he told me to wait, anyhow. She observed her masseur, the muscles of his arm bulging as he picked up the phone, feeling him all over her body even now.
Bahadir was speaking to someone in Turkish. His voice seemed uncertain at first, but soon it calmed down almost to a whisper. She took her head out of the hole, trying not to move the rest of her practically naked body so as to keep the towel over her bare, luscious ass, turning left to the sight of her masseur smiling on the phone. He seems happy. Whew, I guess everything's going to be alright after all. God, look at his hands; I hope he'll squeeze the shit out of me now that everything's in order... He was really concentrated on my ass before I mentioned the money problem... When I get to the apartment, I could let Agust fuck me laying down like this, all helpless, she thought. However, in a couple of seconds her masseur laid the phone down and turned toward Lajla with a grave expression on his handsome dark face.
'Miss Lajla, I'm sorry, but we can't simply let you walk out. Our only choice is to call the police to deal with this matter and have them file a report first…'
'No!' Lajla suddenly yelled. 'No. Please, listen to me', she said as she jumped to her knees on the massage table, looking at him in horror, thinking about the mere possibility of an unfavourable police record on her name, in a foreign country at that. In Denmark, she worked as a schoolteacher, and even the smallest problem with the law could mean the end of her teaching career.
She already went through certain problems in her high school after a few of the boys made inapproriate advances, sending her indecent messages, taking photos of her butt with their phones and whatnot.
'Mr. Bahadir, please don't call the police. I'm sure we can figure out another way to deal with the situation…' Lajla pleaded.
It was only then that she noticed him intently observing her exposed veiny breasts and their wide pink nipples. She had, in fact, opened up all of her naked chest to this stranger's eyes. Having realized it, Lajla instinctively covered her swollen, milky tits with her arms, searching for the towel around her, only to find it laying underneath the massage table. So she found herself kneeling topless on the table, all oiled-up, covering her breasts with her arms with only partial success, without even a towel for her hips, while her inviting wide ass now laid spread beneath her like the sweetest, most irresistible vanilla pudding. Oh my God, everything's going wrong tonight! Lajla thought, feeling her nipples go hard underneath her arms.
'Miss…' the masseur said very slowly. 'I don't see what we can do... Other than let the police handle this... Unfortunate situation... If you are unable to pay for our service…' He didn't take his eyes off her for a second, staring into what she had just offered.
'But, please listen, I'm sure there's something else that we can think of… I just can't risk the police filing a bad record. I have a family… My job is at risk…'
Bahadir just looked at her silently, running his eyes over her blonde hair falling over her shoulders, her whole naked torso, her sensuous white belly and those well-groomed hand trying to shield her breasts from his vision, as well as, further down, her thong buried deep into her waist, barely visible over her pussy between her thick, meaty thighs. Lajla's heart was beating like crazy; sweating through the oil on her skin, and she wasn't able to put her thoughts into order, thinking: God, he's eating me with his eyes… I have to get myself out of this…
'Please, I'll do anything', Lajla begged her masseur. He approached the massage table and looked her in the eyes.
'Well, do you have something in mind?' her masseur calmly inquired. Lajla was kneeling on the table, exposed, probably looking as inviting as she could to any healthy male stude. I can't risk being fired from my job, she thought. How would I explain it to my family? How would I explain it to everyone?
'Um, I mean, there must be something else that we could do', she said, pleadingly. Then Lajla fumbled with her hands over her heaving cheast; her sweaty navel seemed to wink to her masseur, while the meat and fat of her belly fell over the string of her thong, just above her moist vagina, barely covered by the thong.
'Um, I mean, there must be something else that we could do', she said, pleadingly. Then Lajla fumbled with her hands over her heaving cheast; her sweaty navel seemed to wink to her masseur, while the meat and fat of her belly fell over the string of her thong, just above her moist vagina, barely covered by the thong.
Bahadir kept looking at her for a while, while she wasn't saying anything, just thinking. I need to get myself out of this. Perhaps he'd let me go if I merely sucked him off? By now she had noticed the bulge protruding from within his shorts. God, look at him… His cock is probably huge. But what about Agust? Well, I guess he'd never know anyway…
All of a sudden the masseur grabbed her by her knees. Oh God, what do I do… During her college years, Lajla was quite popular with the boys, mainly due to her looks; most of all it was her large inviting butt that had always attracted the company of many male friends who all liked to take care of her, and she had always sought to please all of her friends too. Often on a night-out, she would let some such friend of hers ruin her make-up in the toilet by indulging him on her knees, gagging on his cock.
Naturally, it wasn't mere cocksucking that she was doing. One time she even let her then-boyfriend bring over two of their close friends, who she knew were lusting for her, for an evening of watching a movie together. They started stroking her naked knees and thighs during an especially hot scene in the movie; her then-boyfriend and his two friends ended up gangbanging Lajla in every conceivable way, doing to her whatever it was that they desired. She wasn't able to sit straight for at least a week after the event, due to one of the boys – the one with the biggest member – having tirelessly ravaged her ass.
He filled up her wrong hole at least twice during the evening, while her then-boyfriend was entering her from below, and their third friend stuffed her mouth. Good thing nobody videotaped any of that, she thought, although that might not have been the complete truth...
So Lajla might have been a slut back then. But that was before, way before she met her husband. Now she was an accomplished schoolteacher, a wife, and a mother of two to boot. Yet there she found herself, kneeling again, all oiled-up on a table in some Istanbul bathhouse, wearing nothing but a thong swallowed up by her buttocks, like an easily fuckable doll, basically at the mercy of an unknown, big, dark and hairy Turkish man who would probably impregnate her without giving it a second thought, whether she asked for it or not. She saw that his bulge was throbbing, and her pussy became wet.
Look at him looking at me like an animal… I know that I can pull this whole thing off without actual consequences: I just can't let him get me pregnant, Lajla thought, finally having decided on what to do in order to get herself out of her unfortunate situation.
She lowered her oily arms, letting her pale, veiny tits drop right into his eyes. Besides, if my oaf of a husband didn't forget to return my credit card, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. And how could he ever find out that some Turkish masseur got to use my married mouth, anyway.
'So… Mr. Bahadir, what do you say if we… I mean, instead of calling the police… What if if I sucked you off?' she asked. 'Would you like me to suck your cock, Mr. Bahadir?'
'Yes, I would like that very much. I would like to put it in your mouth', the masseur nodded his head, satisfiedly ogling her breasts, as if paralyzed by the very sight of them. 'And I want you to swallow.'
'I bet you never had a freckled blonde suck your cock, huh?' said Lajla, getting ready to get on with it, to receive the big dark stranger into her mouth..
'Well, better late than never', said the masseur, with a command of English that surprised her. 'You certainly didn't seem to mind me slipping my fingers under your thong.'
'Mr. Bahadir, I'm a married woman and a mother', she said, smiling at him.
'Well, I will certainly enjoy fucking your married mouth. I will have you swallow the last drop to come out of my ballsack, Miss Lajla.'
Lajla's thong was wet. She looked at his muscular arms, assuming that he wouldn't be a gentleman at all during the imminent event. The big masseur smiled at her, and turned his back, walking over to the phone all over again. Lajla just stayed where she was and waited for him.He spoke but a few Turkish sentences and hung up. Without turning around, he unbuttoned his shorts, and slipped them down his muscular, hairy legs. He took of his shirt next, showing the wide shoulders of some Oriental god. In the end, he lowered his boxers, revealing tight, hairy, but muscular buttocks, and turned around to face Lajla.
The mere thought of gagging on her masseur's humongous penis made her labia swell, giving blood rush through her veins. Her pussy was all wet and ready, although she had no intention to let him fuck her, as she had only intended to swallow.
'Come down now', he said. Lajla hastily obeyed, eager to please, opening up her smooth, milky legs to sit on the edge of the table, her wide ass spreading over the leather. Finally she stood on her legs and looked at him.
Lajla laid there all oiled-up, trapped in her thong, covered by nothing more than a small wrinkled towel over her butt, not knowing what else she could do right now. Well he told me to wait, anyhow. She observed her masseur, the muscles of his arm bulging as he picked up the phone, feeling him all over her body even now.
Bahadir was speaking to someone in Turkish. His voice seemed uncertain at first, but soon it calmed down almost to a whisper. She took her head out of the hole, trying not to move the rest of her practically naked body so as to keep the towel over her bare, luscious ass, turning left to the sight of her masseur smiling on the phone. He seems happy. Whew, I guess everything's going to be alright after all. God, look at his hands; I hope he'll squeeze the shit out of me now that everything's in order... He was really concentrated on my ass before I mentioned the money problem... When I get to the apartment, I could let Agust fuck me laying down like this, all helpless, she thought. However, in a couple of seconds her masseur laid the phone down and turned toward Lajla with a grave expression on his handsome dark face.
'Miss Lajla, I'm sorry, but we can't simply let you walk out. Our only choice is to call the police to deal with this matter and have them file a report first…'
'No!' Lajla suddenly yelled. 'No. Please, listen to me', she said as she jumped to her knees on the massage table, looking at him in horror, thinking about the mere possibility of an unfavourable police record on her name, in a foreign country at that. In Denmark, she worked as a schoolteacher, and even the smallest problem with the law could mean the end of her teaching career.
She already went through certain problems in her high school after a few of the boys made inapproriate advances, sending her indecent messages, taking photos of her butt with their phones and whatnot.
'Mr. Bahadir, please don't call the police. I'm sure we can figure out another way to deal with the situation…' Lajla pleaded.
It was only then that she noticed him intently observing her exposed veiny breasts and their wide pink nipples. She had, in fact, opened up all of her naked chest to this stranger's eyes. Having realized it, Lajla instinctively covered her swollen, milky tits with her arms, searching for the towel around her, only to find it laying underneath the massage table. So she found herself kneeling topless on the table, all oiled-up, covering her breasts with her arms with only partial success, without even a towel for her hips, while her inviting wide ass now laid spread beneath her like the sweetest, most irresistible vanilla pudding. Oh my God, everything's going wrong tonight! Lajla thought, feeling her nipples go hard underneath her arms.
'Miss…' the masseur said very slowly. 'I don't see what we can do... Other than let the police handle this... Unfortunate situation... If you are unable to pay for our service…' He didn't take his eyes off her for a second, staring into what she had just offered.
'But, please listen, I'm sure there's something else that we can think of… I just can't risk the police filing a bad record. I have a family… My job is at risk…'
Bahadir just looked at her silently, running his eyes over her blonde hair falling over her shoulders, her whole naked torso, her sensuous white belly and those well-groomed hand trying to shield her breasts from his vision, as well as, further down, her thong buried deep into her waist, barely visible over her pussy between her thick, meaty thighs. Lajla's heart was beating like crazy; sweating through the oil on her skin, and she wasn't able to put her thoughts into order, thinking: God, he's eating me with his eyes… I have to get myself out of this…
'Please, I'll do anything', Lajla begged her masseur. He approached the massage table and looked her in the eyes.
'Well, do you have something in mind?' her masseur calmly inquired. Lajla was kneeling on the table, exposed, probably looking as inviting as she could to any healthy male stude. I can't risk being fired from my job, she thought. How would I explain it to my family? How would I explain it to everyone?
'Um, I mean, there must be something else that we could do', she said, pleadingly. Then Lajla fumbled with her hands over her heaving cheast; her sweaty navel seemed to wink to her masseur, while the meat and fat of her belly fell over the string of her thong, just above her moist vagina, barely covered by the thong.
'Um, I mean, there must be something else that we could do', she said, pleadingly. Then Lajla fumbled with her hands over her heaving cheast; her sweaty navel seemed to wink to her masseur, while the meat and fat of her belly fell over the string of her thong, just above her moist vagina, barely covered by the thong.
Bahadir kept looking at her for a while, while she wasn't saying anything, just thinking. I need to get myself out of this. Perhaps he'd let me go if I merely sucked him off? By now she had noticed the bulge protruding from within his shorts. God, look at him… His cock is probably huge. But what about Agust? Well, I guess he'd never know anyway…
All of a sudden the masseur grabbed her by her knees. Oh God, what do I do… During her college years, Lajla was quite popular with the boys, mainly due to her looks; most of all it was her large inviting butt that had always attracted the company of many male friends who all liked to take care of her, and she had always sought to please all of her friends too. Often on a night-out, she would let some such friend of hers ruin her make-up in the toilet by indulging him on her knees, gagging on his cock.
Naturally, it wasn't mere cocksucking that she was doing. One time she even let her then-boyfriend bring over two of their close friends, who she knew were lusting for her, for an evening of watching a movie together. They started stroking her naked knees and thighs during an especially hot scene in the movie; her then-boyfriend and his two friends ended up gangbanging Lajla in every conceivable way, doing to her whatever it was that they desired. She wasn't able to sit straight for at least a week after the event, due to one of the boys – the one with the biggest member – having tirelessly ravaged her ass.
He filled up her wrong hole at least twice during the evening, while her then-boyfriend was entering her from below, and their third friend stuffed her mouth. Good thing nobody videotaped any of that, she thought, although that might not have been the complete truth...
So Lajla might have been a slut back then. But that was before, way before she met her husband. Now she was an accomplished schoolteacher, a wife, and a mother of two to boot. Yet there she found herself, kneeling again, all oiled-up on a table in some Istanbul bathhouse, wearing nothing but a thong swallowed up by her buttocks, like an easily fuckable doll, basically at the mercy of an unknown, big, dark and hairy Turkish man who would probably impregnate her without giving it a second thought, whether she asked for it or not. She saw that his bulge was throbbing, and her pussy became wet.
Look at him looking at me like an animal… I know that I can pull this whole thing off without actual consequences: I just can't let him get me pregnant, Lajla thought, finally having decided on what to do in order to get herself out of her unfortunate situation.
She lowered her oily arms, letting her pale, veiny tits drop right into his eyes. Besides, if my oaf of a husband didn't forget to return my credit card, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. And how could he ever find out that some Turkish masseur got to use my married mouth, anyway.
'So… Mr. Bahadir, what do you say if we… I mean, instead of calling the police… What if if I sucked you off?' she asked. 'Would you like me to suck your cock, Mr. Bahadir?'
'Yes, I would like that very much. I would like to put it in your mouth', the masseur nodded his head, satisfiedly ogling her breasts, as if paralyzed by the very sight of them. 'And I want you to swallow.'
'I bet you never had a freckled blonde suck your cock, huh?' said Lajla, getting ready to get on with it, to receive the big dark stranger into her mouth..
'Well, better late than never', said the masseur, with a command of English that surprised her. 'You certainly didn't seem to mind me slipping my fingers under your thong.'
'Mr. Bahadir, I'm a married woman and a mother', she said, smiling at him.
'Well, I will certainly enjoy fucking your married mouth. I will have you swallow the last drop to come out of my ballsack, Miss Lajla.'
Lajla's thong was wet. She looked at his muscular arms, assuming that he wouldn't be a gentleman at all during the imminent event. The big masseur smiled at her, and turned his back, walking over to the phone all over again. Lajla just stayed where she was and waited for him.He spoke but a few Turkish sentences and hung up. Without turning around, he unbuttoned his shorts, and slipped them down his muscular, hairy legs. He took of his shirt next, showing the wide shoulders of some Oriental god. In the end, he lowered his boxers, revealing tight, hairy, but muscular buttocks, and turned around to face Lajla.
The mere thought of gagging on her masseur's humongous penis made her labia swell, giving blood rush through her veins. Her pussy was all wet and ready, although she had no intention to let him fuck her, as she had only intended to swallow.
'Come down now', he said. Lajla hastily obeyed, eager to please, opening up her smooth, milky legs to sit on the edge of the table, her wide ass spreading over the leather. Finally she stood on her legs and looked at him.