A Housewife's Lesbian Massage

Women don’t pay for sex. We don’t have to. Everyone knows that.

Except it’s not true. Women pay for sex all the time. We’re just more subtle about it.

Sofija comes every Monday morning at 9am. I couldn’t start the week without her, she’s my pep to get me going. By that time my husband’s at work, the kids at nursery and school, and I’m free to indulge in my one moment of luxury before a week of cooking, cleaning, childcare, family matters and various other forms of drama commences.

I love the ritual of it to begin with. I adore watching Sofija work quietly as she sets out her folding massage table in my living room, always in the same place. She unpacks her various oils and towels, she cleans and wipes the table down, always in the same practised order.

Its satisfying watching Sofija work. She moves swiftly and surely; she looks so at home in her body. She’s tall, slim, but not skinny. Athletic is the best word to describe her. Sofija’s broad across the shoulders, there’s muscle on her body, her long legs are toned and sculpted. Her breasts are small and high, her blonde hair is always tied back in a simple ponytail.

She’s only 21, Sofija, but she has the bearing and natural confidence of someone far older. She’s a physiotherapy student at the local university, she does massage on the side to pay the bills. She strikes me as someone who takes university, and life, seriously.

Sofija asks me to undress and get onto the table in perfect English but in her soft, Latvian accent. I slide out of my clothes in front of her, but there’s no embarrassment now, she knows my body better than anyone, the good bits, the bad bits. I used to keep my underwear on, but now, why bother?

I climb onto the table naked and lie face down. There’s a warm towel beneath me; I put my head into the round, open, padded face rest at the end of the bench. All I can see is a patch of carpet below and Sofija’s socks as she moves around the head of the table. She’s wearing light blue ones with cartoon penguins on them today. A hint that she’s not entirely serious perhaps, that there’s a fun side she keeps hidden.

Sofija lifts my feet to slide a padded support under my ankles. She’s so gentle with me, she moves so slowly its calming, vaguely hypnotic already. Sofija lays a towel over my body, from my feet to the top of my shoulders, and I luxuriate in the softness of it, the warmth of it against my naked skin. I never understand how her towels are always to warm, she must heat them before she leaves, she must bring them in some sort of insulated bag.

Sofija plays low, gentle music from a speaker attached to her phone. She walks around me as she finishes her preparations, she doesn’t speak, there’s just the sound of her moving and that music.

She’s not even touched me and I’m relaxing already. That heavy feeling is growing behind my eyes and my breathing has slowed. I can’t think of another moment in my week where I allow myself to do this, to just lie down and relax and be still. Even if I’m by myself at home, I’m active, even if I’m taking a break, I’ve got my phone in my hand or a magazine. But with Sofija I actually stop and rest.

Having permission to lie still and relax is good enough, but it’s nothing compared to when Sofija touches me. She lifts the towel away from my shoulders and back and folds it down over my buttocks and thighs. Then, after a week of waiting, her fingers finally touch me. Sofija begins by pressing various points on my back like she’s examining me, like she’s probing for areas of tension. Once she’s satisfied, I hear her lathering her hands in fragrant oil, she keeps rubbing them so it’s warm when she touches me again.

Sofija’s hands move over my body properly now and its heaven right away. It’s paradise. She moves up and down me, she kneads my shoulders, knots of muscle along my spine, she liquifies the tension in my lower back. I melt beneath her expert touch, I sigh without shame, I want Sofija to know how good it feels as she banishes a week’s worth of aches and pains and stiffness from my body.

People deny there’s anything sexual to massage, that it’s just a professional providing a service, but honestly, who are they kidding. And I don’t mean it in a seedy way, that I’m some sex-starved, bored out of my brain’s housewife, although there’s a little truth to that, perhaps. But how can it not be sexual, when someone touches you so intimately, when they do it with skill and care, and when they make it feel so incredibly good? How can there not be an element of sex in that?

And god, I love the way Sofija’s fingers move over my body. She’s firm, her grip and press are strong, but with all that warm oil on her hands and on me, she glides over me so easily, there’s strength but no friction. With nothing to see beneath me, I close my eyes and focus on Sofija’s touch, I turn all my senses to it, I luxuriate in it. I bathe in the sensuality and sexuality of it.

Something happens to me when Sofija massages me. As well as the relaxation and the pleasure, I go into a kind of trance. My head goes warm and fuzzy, like I’m half asleep, like when you’re dreaming, when you know you’re dreaming but the dream feels real too. I feel like I’m floating, like I’m high, not that I’ve ever taken drugs really. But everything stops feeling real. Maybe that makes it easier to accept what comes next? To not feel any guilt about what happens?

Sofija slides the towel down right off my body and I’m lying naked and exposed on the massage table but I’m far beyond caring about that now. Sofija coats her hands in more oil and they move up and down my legs. I’d never known my feet ached so much until Sofija first massaged them. I groan now in unbridled pleasure as she works the soles of them with her thumbs. I moan softly as she moves up my legs, as she dissolves all the tension in my calves, my thighs, as her hands move higher.

You’d never guess how good having your buttocks massaged can feel either until you’ve had Sofija’s hands on you. There’s muscle to relax, but I’m ticklish there too, in that way that makes me quiver down there. And I can feel myself spreading open as Sofija’s hands move over me, my cheeks parting with each pass. I know she can see everything, my most intimate parts, and there’s a thrill in that too.

I’m breathing harder now, I’m feeling hot and tingly all over as Sofija tells me to roll onto my back. She smiles at me as I get up and change position, it’s just a faint smile, but there’s so much in it. Pleasure at seeing what her touch has done to me, an expectation of what’s to come.

Sofija massages my stomach with a gentler touch and it sets a cascade of ticklish butterflies loose through my lower body. I close my eyes and lay my head on one side as her fingers move higher. Not so I can pretend she’s anyone else or deny her, but it feels better if there’s just touch, no sight, it’s more intense. Sofija’s hands travel higher, her slippery fingers move over my breasts, massaging, cupping me, my flesh feels supple and smooth with the oil, I groan out loud. I realise I’m rubbing my thighs together already.

I shiver as Sofija’s lips touch me. As they close around a stiff nipple, as she sucks so hard I throb inside her hot mouth. She holds my other breast with a hand, she strokes her thumb over my nipple as her second hand slides down my stomach. I let my legs fall open for her, I groan even louder as her fingers close over me.

Sofija strokes my pussy with a delicate touch. She sends ripples of pleasure through me, she moves her mouth and her other hand back and forth between my breasts, she gets me panting and squirming before she parts my lips and touches me between.

I never thought of myself as lesbian, or even bisexual really. Occasionally I’ve found myself attracted to other women, but I’ve never done anything about it. I’ve always been too scared; I’ve never had the right opportunity. I’ve never known how. But then along came Sofija and she seemed to just sense it in me. Her massages started off innocent but didn’t stay that way for long.

Sofija wets a finger between my lips, then she moves up to my clit. She’s learned how to touch me, she does it better than anyone I’ve ever known. She starts softly, her fingertip moving around me in quick, soft circles, but her touch becomes firmer as my moans come louder. She reaches a pace and pressure that gets me gasping and trembling, and she keeps at it, no variation, no change, until I’m juddering and bucking against her hand.

Sofija tickles the tip of her tongue over one nipple as she sucks on it, she squeezes the other firmly between her thumb and forefinger, her other hand works her magic between my legs and my climax rises up and takes me. She always makes me come so fast. Pleasure erupts from my core, it flows through my body in waves, I groan and shudder as it fizzes through my brain. The massage always makes it better, stronger, as if all my nerves have been awakened. I feel my climax with all of my body.

Sofija keeps stroking my clit, no matter how much I buck and twist, she keeps sucking a nipple, pinching the other, she draws my orgasm out with her expert touch. She keeps going until my climax peaks and ebbs away, but the massage doesn’t end there, Sofija’s only getting started. Her fingertip leaves my clit, I’m too sensitive after coming, so she moves lower and slides her finger gently into me. Sofija fucks me slowly with it, she swirls it around inside me, she presses a second finger into me when I’m ready.

Oh dear god, Sofija moves those fingers faster, she glides them in and out of me smoothly, my pleasure begins to build again. Sofija uses a more up and down motion than the other, less knowing men who’ve come before her. She presses against the inside wall of me, she rubs my g-spot and it feels almost as good as when she strokes my clit. Heat fills my body, I’m groaning and squirming on top of Sofija’s table, I’m at her mercy, I’m in her hands entirely.

Sofija runs her other hand over my oiled body, she strokes the sensitive spots she’s learned I have with a delicate, gliding touch. Her fingers skate over my inner thighs, behind my knees, over my stomach, my chest, my neck, it all gets so intense. She holds my breasts; she pinches my nipples with just the right force until I’m desperate for release.

Then she does the thing I love the most.

My breathing is so fast I’m almost hyperventilating; my clit feels like its swollen and pulsing with each beat of my heart. Sofija moves to the base of the bench, keeping her fingers moving inside me, of course, she’s a professional. As I open my legs wider, Sofija leans forwards and settles her upper body between my thighs.

I feel her breath on me first. Goosebumps erupt over my body. Her lips touch me, soft and warm as she kisses my flesh. Her tongue slides up the length of my pussy as her fingers continue to pump in and out of me.

Sofija doesn’t tease me for long, she licks up and down me, but her tongue soon meets my clit and I gasp at how good it feels to be touched there like that. She laps at me quickly with a delicate press of her tongue, in time with her fingers beneath her jaw. Sofija knows the rhythm I need, she knows not to vary it, to keep licking and fingering until I’m there.

I juddered on that table; I press my pussy into Sofija’s face. Sofija doesn’t mind, quite the contrary, a soft moan escapes from her muffled lips. It gives me such a sense of satisfaction to know she’s turned on too, that she enjoys this, even if it’s never spoken of out loud.

Sofija runs her free hand over my body again, her arms are long enough that she can reach up to grasp my breasts and pinch my nipples. She keeps licking me, she keeps tickling my g-spot, pleasuring me with her other hand and my climax is so close.

Then Sofija does the thing I thought I’d never like, that I’ve never let anyone do but her, that makes me come so much harder. That second hand leaves my breasts, it slides back down my body between my legs. I open my thighs wider to help Sofija, to give her enough room. Her hand moves lower still.

Sofija presses the tip of a finger against my second place, my other hole. She tickles me gently and I gasp at how sensitive I am there. She massages me more firmly, I feel myself softening and coming open around the tip of her oiled finger, I feel that wonderful sensation of fullness as Sofija pushes it slowly into me.

I’m so close, right on the edge, I’m trying to dig my fingers into the padded top of the massage table. Sofija maintains that magnificent pace as she licks my pussy, she moans rhythmically now, along with me, I imagine how hot and wet she must be, hot and wet from pleasuring me. Her fingers dance over my g-spot, she doesn’t fuck me with the one up my bum, she just curls it inside me to tickle that incredible place within and as her fingertip touches it a wave of pleasure erupts and surges through me.

The second climax hits me harder. It overwhelms me. I buck against Sofija’s face, I cry out, I spasm, but she keeps licking and pleasuring me, she moans louder with me. Her lips form around my clit, her tongue keeps flashing across it, but she sucks on me too, it makes me come even harder. Sofija strokes my g-spot, her other finger wriggles inside me, she keeps it up until I can’t take anymore.

My eyes come open and Sofija is standing over me, her face flushed, her eyes wide, my wetness around her mouth. She moves to the side of the table and cleans her hands and face with a small towel, she does it with the same professional grace as before, but I can see she’s turned on now.

One of these days I’m going to be brave enough to put Sofija on the table, to strip and lick her too. I’ve never done that before, I’ve never gone down on a woman, obviously, but with Sofija I want to try. I often imagine how good she looks naked, how she feels and tastes. Another time maybe, I’m not brave enough today, I’m wiped out.

Sofija strokes me gently now as I come down, she runs her hands slowly over my body then she puts the towel back across me. I close my eyes and drift as she packs up. She lets me take my time before I slide off the table. She folds it up and packs it away as I dress, I pay her, then Sofija is gone. Simple and quick. No fuss, no awkwardness.

She’s expensive, Sofija, naturally. My husband complains at the cost, but I tell him I can’t do without Sofija and her magic touch. He does comment on how good I look after she’s been though, how rejuvenated and energised I am. He understands how important Sofija’s visits are, if not quite why.

Women don’t pay for sex. We don’t have to. Except that’s not true, is it?

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