I have been with the same female massage therapist for about eight years. We have never had any intimate contact, I must point out, although I do find her very attractive. We have become friends, as unlike most therapists, we are quite talkative and usually chat while I am face-up on the table. (She is in her early thirties)
I started seeing her when she worked for salons. Eventually she fell out with both and decided to work from her home. She sets up her massage table in the home office. It is right next to the bathroom. Once I needed to use the bathroom and discovered the laundry hamper.
I see Jennifer each week and usually take a pair of her worn panties. I have always fantasizied about her. I select panties with a satiny feel so they glide across my erect cock. I stroke my flaccid prick through the panties, getting harder as I imagine lying on Jennifer's table. In my fantasy, I become fully erect as she works up my thigh. I hear her gasp as my cock pops out from under the sheet, engorged and purple. At first we both laugh nervously, trying to make light of it. Our eyes meet. She swallows hard then gently grasps my prick. I moan and close my eyes as she starts to stroke me.
My hands roam her ass and legs. I reach between her thighs and feel the heat there. We are gripped by the fury of passion, tearing at each other's clothes, kissing and clawing at each other. She lies back on the table, spreading her creamy, long legs and I, at last, plunge into her.
All the while I am stroking my cock through her panties. Each stroke of my hand feels like her velvety cunt, milking my cock.
At last, I pump faster, my hand flying over my shaft until I shoot jet after jet of hot, sticky semen into her panties. As I cum, I cry out her name, 'Jennifer, Jennifer.'