Relieving The Tension

The door to the flat slams shut, and the crescendo of high-heeled footsteps heralds her entry. When he sees her barge into the living room, he barely says hello before she kicks off her shoes and throws her handbag onto the couch.

She flops onto the corner-sofa with a heavy sigh and un-clips her sandy blonde hair, letting it spill over her shoulders. Finally, as he watches with a bemused but patient smile, she takes off her blazer and stretches out, leaving her in just tights, a grey pencil skirt, and a white blouse. Looking at him, she seems to remember herself and gives him a tired smile.

He laughs. "Tough day?"

"Don't start me," she returns the laugh, though hers is laced with frustration.

He reaches across from his pillow beside the crackling fireplace and grabs a bottle of red wine and a glass, pouring it and passing it up to her. She mouths a silent 'thank you' and downs the glass in one go.

"Still doing office moves then?" he asks as she sits the empty glass down. He refills it as she talks.

"Yeah, along with everyone else's job," she throws her hands up. "What's the point in making me a supervisor and then telling me how to do my job anyway – and they tell me the worst way to do it. I could run the entire company better –" she stops to take another glass of wine from him, "- thank you – I could it better than the idiots at the top. Half of them are bald, everyone knows bald people can't run a business -"

He lets her rant, pouring himself a glass and joining her on the sofa. Stretching out, he puts an arm around her and pulls her in. Her shoulders are tense and bunched up; he can feel her muscles, knotted and tight through her blouse. Even as her head lolls back onto his shoulder, she fidgets and itches; she can't seem to relax.

"You're awful tense."

"Just stressed." She breathes out, but the tension won't leave her shoulders.

"Tell you what," he says, and kisses her cheek, whispering in her ear. "Go and get ready for bed. I'll be in soon; I think someone needs a massage."

"Are you going to end that with 'that someone is me', and then demand a backrub?"

He laughs. "Not this time."

"Deal, then," she squirms around until she can tilt her head back and they share a soft kiss. "Don't be long."

She gets up and heads for bed, finishing her wine as she goes; he watches her hips sway in her pencil skirt as she walks, and smiles in anticipation.

* * * *

He's in shorts when he comes to bed, turning the switch off so that only the sunset glow of the lamp lights the room. She's lying on her front, arms folded under a pillow, with the covers over half her body. Her back, smooth and pale, leads down to the curve of her hips.

She opens one eye as he comes in, giving him a sleepy smile. He can see that she's wearing nothing under the covers, and her breasts are pressed beneath her, bare against the sheets.

He joins her without a word, taking the massage oil from the bedside drawer and working it between his hands. She wriggles in anticipation as he warms it.

"Where to begin," he whispers, as though talking to himself. "Your shoulders were all knotted and tense – you're carrying all your stress on them."

"Mhm?"

"Yeah. Take a breath and let it out, try to relax them."

She does as he says, and he works his fingers into the fibres of her shoulder muscles. It's a little sore at first, not what she was expecting from a massage, but then the pain goes and there's a tingling in her skin.

"Hm, what was that?"

"That was most of the tension leaving your muscles. Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore," she murmurs, working her shoulder muscles to feel the relief. It spreads like hot water through her body, giving her shivers. She laughs out of reflex.

"Ticklish?"

"No," she whispers, "just really good."

"Told you," he chuckles, and begins to knead his strong, oiled hands down the taper on her back. His fingers relax her muscles, all the way down her spine, sending chills up to her neck.

She shivers again, and he laughs and leans down, planting a firm kiss on the nape of her neck. Sighing, she arches her back to feel his hands on her. Sensing her arousal, he pushes the small of her back down and kisses her neck harder.

"You," he whispers, running his lips from her neck to her ear, "are not relaxing."

"Mhm," she smiles, and he knows what she's going to do; she's going to push back against him and feel him, hard through his shorts, and then they'll end up wrapped around each other under the covers.

Not yet, he thinks. Shushing her, he returns to the massage, running two fingers from each hand down the ridges of her spine, to the small of her back where her curved hips squirm under his touch. Pulling the covers down, he reveals the soft skin of her ass cheeks, as inviting as always.

He has to fight himself as he runs single fingers down the crook of her back, into the cleavage between her cheeks; he wants nothing more than to tear his shorts off and bury his erection between her thighs.

Not yet, he thinks, although if she were to look around she'd see the huge bulge in his shorts.

As he works her firm ass cheeks under his oiled hands, she lets out low, eager moans. He leans over as his hands push her cheeks together, rubbing them and pulling them apart again, and kisses the small of her back. She lifts her hips, breathing heavily, and he goes lower still, kissing down further and further until his tongue is running down between her ass cheeks -

She gasps his name, and he lifts his mouth from her with a knowing grin. He can see where his hands have been, leaving a trail of shining moisture on her skin. Rubbing more oil between his palms, he lowers his hands to the top of her thighs, where they meet her ass cheeks. She lets out another sigh as he works his fingers into the pale skin of her thighs, working up to the hot, moist spot between them, always leaving his touch just short of it.

Squirming, she tries to back herself onto his hands, but he keeps her out of reach, teasing her, leaning over to kiss and bite at her neck, running his hand up the inside of her thigh, just around her pussy, up over her ass, and down the other side.

As he kisses her neck again, he whispers in her ear, "Relaxed yet?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Not really."

"Didn't think so."

He lowers himself and kisses the small of her back. She hears the rustle of his shorts as he removes them, leaving them both naked in the glowing light; she feels his breath on her, hot and heavy, as he kisses the backs of her thighs, running his tongue up towards -

She gasps and tenses suddenly as his tongue runs up her soaked pussy, circling her clit as he buried his face between her thighs from behind. Arching her back, she fights the urge to reach back and grab his head and hold it there. Little shocks run up her entire body as he tongue pushes between her lips and swirls over her, finding the little spots that he knows so well.

As her hips start to buck and rock with the movement of his tongue, he stops so suddenly that she feels her heart sink; then he's on top of her, pinning her front-down on the bed, his legs pushing hers open as he kisses her neck, his powerful hands gripping her wrists and pinning them on either side of the bed.

She feels his pulsing erection against her, pushing her lips apart, dripping with precum, so hard she can almost feel his pulse through it. He doesn't need to guide it in – she's so wet that he pushes into her with ease, even though she tightens around him.

Gasping, she writhes under his body as he fills her, pushing into her until she feels his balls against her clit. He seems much bigger than she's used to, stretching her and pulsing inside her. She settles and relaxes as she get used to his size.

Then she hears his heavy breathing in her ear, and realises that she's doing the exact same, each breath seperated with low, desperate moaning. She pushes back as he pushes in, his cock twitching with every thrust.

He goes harder as they get into a rhythm, his erection sliding into her wetness again and again, hitting the spots that make her quiver. Her thighs shake, and he uses his legs to clamp hers together. Her ass cheeks cushion him as he thrusts into her over and over, her wrists pinned to the bed, helpless with his weight on top of her.

She hears his breathing quicken in time with her own, unaware that she's gasping his name and writhing under him. He pounds her harder into the bed, his head buried in her neck now. He lets one of her wrists go and uses his free hand to pull her ass cheeks up, letting him go deeper still. She moans loudly, her back arching, and she uses her free hand to grab onto his neck for mercy, using his body like an anchor as he fucks her harder and faster.

She doesn't need to tell him that she's going to climax: he feels her legs shaking, hears her breathing deepen and then stop, senses the electricity running up and over her skin like a current between them. A sudden wave of heat follows a burst of cold, and her orgasm hits her like lightning. She trembles like there's an earthquake between her thighs, juddering spasms that tighten her body around him. Her twitching pussy milks him dry inside her, and he fills her with cum in a sudden explosion, burying himself deep in her as they climax together.

He tenses, and then collapses on top of her, gasping for air with her. Their bodies both go limp, exhausted and satisfied. After a few minutes of trying to get their breath back, he whispers,

"Relaxed now?"

She laughs and leans up, kissing him. "A bit."