Magic Fingers
Section Une
Buffy rolled her shoulders and twisted her neck. Her tense upper body was riddled with the kinks of muscular distress. Her mother told her three times a day that she needed to see a masseuse but she really didn’t want a girl to knead her into cookie dough, because there was a slim chance she might get a happy at the end. That was not how she wanted her first orgasm of three years to play out.
Growling inhumanly, she thrust herself out of the office chair and walked towards the bathroom. If she sat on the toilet for a while, maybe the ache between her legs would disappear in the endless pains rolling across her back.
For the love of God she wanted to orgasm. And she wanted to get rid of the ridiculous back pains that perpetrated such horrible uncomfortableness day to day.
But Buffy knew if she let a fully licensed masseur touch her, she’d be off like a sprocket flying out of a snapped chain.
But there was no way she was going to pay a man to touch her. A hooker would be cheaper, and so would her conscience.
Her fingers did nothing to release the uncomfortable build up between her legs, her butt hovering over the toilet seat as her fingers poked and prodded at her insides in every angle she could muster.
“Stupid short arms,” she muttered before wiping away the mess on her fingers on the toilet paper and pulling up her skirt and panties that had held her legs in position. She grabbed the ream of paper and ripped off a few pieces to clean up the useless juices. She started rubbing harder and harder, little tremors tickling down her legs, until the paper disintegrated into the toilet bowl.
“AH!”
“Um, Buffy, are you alright?”
Buffy sighed and unlocked the door with her clean hand. She smiled at Willow, her colleague and friend, and washed her hands thoroughly.
A twinge in her rear flared up once more, her sexually frustrated front forgotten as the pain swelled in her back.
“Don’t worry Willow my back’s still a bit sore.” She gently kneaded her lower back as she walked back into the office. Her resolve was shattered as the aches doubled.
Buffy arrived home from work, still growling, and her mother passed her the phonebook.
“You won’t regret it, dear.”
And boy, did mother know best.
****
The ad was under the licensed massages section. And yes! The phone book did have an unlicensed section. Half of those appeared to be Govenator look-a-like hookers. It was the wording that gave Buffy license to look at it twice. She scanned past the adverts that displayed the lewd pictures of semi-naked bodies and skipped the indignant ads that said things like, ‘It doesn’t matter how attractive I am or how well hung you are, this is a massage ad’.
With Spike’s, she had to look twice. His name made her quickly bypass it on her first skim, but when her search became frustratingly useless and the pain began to crinkle up her back, she looked back at the page where the corner declared: ‘Spike the Masseur: can sooth your back pains through several licensed massage therapies, registered in seven countries. Spike will give you a release on life.’
Buffy’s eyes bulged at the last sentence. The guy seemed to be a professional and he knew what would eventually happen before his hands would begin their journey kneading up and down her back. If anything, she would get the two things she longed for. Buffy gave the finger to morality and dialled his number.
“Spike’s glorious sex pad of pain and pleasure. Who, may I ask, is calling?”
“Oh, I think I got the wrong number.”
“No, sweet thing, it sounds like you got just the right one.”
An angry growl ripped through the fibre optics and a disgruntled British voice said, “I’m sorry about my flatmate Lorne. This is Spike, how can I help you?”
“I’m in desperate need of a massage. I’m incredibly tense and my back has been in pain for days.”
Unfortunately, Spike appeared to have spectacular hearing.
He exclaimed “Really?” after hearing her mumble, “And I really need to come.”
Buffy blushed but quickly asked the question she needed to have answered.
“Do you do manssages?”
“Manssages? As in man on man—blow WHAT? That’s the most...um... ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He scoffed.
“Have you heard of Cheesus? Religious themed cheese sculptures?”
“Okay, I take that back. Manssages while eating cheesuses would probably be the most ridiculous.” Buffy hoped that the timbre of his nummy accent meant he was smirking. She needed to provoke him more to hear that delicious tone.
“What about—?”
“No, okay, I only have female clients.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, love.”
“Welcome? Why didn’t you answer me straight away?”
“’Cause you said the word manssage. No, you created a word. A word that’s completely redundant.”
“This whole conversation is redundant. Will you come tomorrow?”
“No, but you will.”
“God, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Just so you know, this is the most unprofessional phone call I have ever had the displeasure to take part in. Give me the time and place and I’ll be at your doorstep.”
Buffy hung up shortly after negotiating details, now pleasantly flustered.
****
Buffy sat on the toilet, apprehensive. Spike was due to arrive in half an hour and she desperately needed to not embarrass herself if he was as quippy in real life as he was over the phone. Her quick comebacks quota may have been exceeded during their previous conversation.
She stripped off her work clothes and stubbornly decided to try for one last attempt at coming before he arrived.
She slipped behind the glass doors and rubbed the cake of soap over every inch of her body, the lather building on her breasts and in her southern curls. She abruptly realised she needed to shave as the soap glided along the coarse hairs on her legs.
Cursing the procrastination time she spent sitting on the toilet pondering her predicament, Buffy hurriedly flicked the razor up and down her legs and heard the doorbell toll.
“I’m coming!” She grimaced as soon as the words flew out of her mouth at her top volume. “I mean, give me five minutes.”
Buffy was adamant that she’d get off before he’d touch her so she curled she shower hose off its stand and flipped the nozzle upside down between her legs. The jet of water caressed her tender skin until she upped the water pressure. The liquid blasted onto her clitoris and her legs flew out from beneath her. Her last thought was of a specific British voice before her arse harshly hit the smooth tiles of her shower as she quickly slid down to the tub floor.
“Urgh! Ow! Damnit!”
Buffy groaned. Any pleasure that had been building was replaced with the terrible pain running Rambo across her back and butt.
“Are you alright?”
Panic slew her body into becoming a frozen statuette on the bottom of her bathtub. The British voice she had just fanaticised about was on the other side of her bathroom door.
Buffy grabbed her towel and limped across the floor to rip open the door.
God, he was even better than she dimly imagined. His hair was gelled down in bleached curls that were above dark roots.
“I set up in the lounge room because your front door was open.”
She needed to shut her gaping mouth.
But his eyes were indescribably blue and they roved up her bare legs and over the slit in her towel and across the top of her fleshy globes. His eyes met her pouting lips and he snuck a look up at her delicious emerald eyes.
“Bloody hell, I hope you’re Buffy.”
“I hope you aren’t actually in my home yet, Spike.” His name dripped with venom as it left her mouth that no longer gaped as it remembered the anger coursing through her body and ending in a comfortable section below her belly.
“Seeing as you’ve had a problem, I though the massage would take a little longer.”
“Yeah, well…urgh, I can’t think of anything to say to that. Get out of my way.”
He smirked and leant an arm against the frame, blocking her into the bathroom.
“Did you want me to do you in here?”
“Get out of my way.” Her tone was a viper.
He surrendered, hands in the air. He walked back into her living room, Buffy watching his delectable trousered arse as he strolled.
Spike felt her stare directed to his derriere and turned back, smirking again.
He nodded towards her chest where the towel had fallen to show more of her perky breasts.
“Come on love, let’s get you all limp.”
TBC
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!