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The Reeley Web
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Anne was now also lost in her duty, she massaged almost on automatic pilot. Her fingers and palms moved in a pre-programmed sequence. They would start at an extremity, perhaps a finger, perhaps a toe, and each time both of Anne’s hands would slowly work their way along the limb, rubbing and massaging in the oils, releasing the tensions of Stacey’s stressed suburban life. Anne’s voice was soft and infrequent, gentle and soothing, she massaged, almost unaware of the intimate pressures that she generated in the insides of her subject, immobile but not irresponsive as she lay upon the table before her. Anne knew that the aromas of Vanilla and Neroli combined to produce a heady and almost hormonal scent; however her senses were so keen, so refined that still she could detect both the scent of Stacey and the under tones of the Bergamot. As she moved her hands down Stacey’s body pushing her pelvis into the mattress of the table, Anne could feel the breath being held. She felt Stacey’s anticipation and waiting, wondering if the wanting was there too. |