Untitled Story By Amy

By BackRub

Note from Backrub: This is a story posted some months ago by Amy L. My story "Once...You're Rubbed...By Amy" was an attempt to approach the story from the man's perspective. I made up my own fictional male character which varies from Amy's. Any way, altho she did not finish this story, I like hers better. Thanks, Amy, wherever you are...

Spurred on by the utterly depraved postings here, I thought I'd post some good old normal SEX. No pedophilia, no tortue, no rape, no cannabalism, just good old fashioned boot-knocking. This is not an expedition literie, this is not awared winning material. It is a narrative.

I'm long winded, detailed yet subtle, and again long winded. Enjoy. God I hope the person this story is losely based on doesn't see this. He doesn't know me so I doubt it but... god that would be horrible. =-) Anyway, this is unfinished. ha! Teaser.

an un named story (I can never come up with good names) (I do write some funky kink too, but there's plenty of that already here!)

Settling down for an all night drunk, my friend Shelly and I saddled up to a little table in the dark, well smoked bar. The table had been gotten by blind luck; as we stood looking around for people we knew a group of people seemed to lift above the crowd and reveal a table to us. We quickly sat down, marking our territory with jackets, purses and drinks.

We talked and chittered like only two good friends can, and I felt a bit of a buzz coming on, but that can happen when you don't eat all day and start off with two shots of tequila.

Suddenly my gaze locked near the entrance to the bar and Shel said, "See someone you know?" "Not quite, but someone I'd like to know!" I answered. "Ooooh baby I second that motion," Shel quipped as she spied the object of my attention.

I recognized the man from a store I frequented. Perhaps in his mid 20's, he didn't have the fluffy frat look, but rather a strong, dark presence broken by glittering eyes and a broad smile. Long, thick wavy black hair which was normally tied at his neck now flowed down his shoulders. Broad shoulders at that. He was neither fat nor thin, rather a large frame generously covered with muscle and then softened with just the right amount of weight to make his skin look soft and firm, not hard and sinewy. A deep complexion accented by his black shirt made for a striking if not monochromatic appearance.

"Please wipe the drool off of your face, 'kay? It's really rude." Shel joked.

My smirky smile went blank as he turned towards me and recognized me from across the room. Did I look like I was leering, as I was? He smiled and waved, and I raised my hand and returned a coy little acknowledgement, hoping I didn't look like the busted dolt I now felt like.

To save grace I turned back to Shel, intent on forgetting he was even there. We went back to idle chittering, when suddenly I felt hands clap down on my shoulders and give a good natured shake

"So, never seen you here before! Come here often? What's a nice woman like you doing in a place like this? Any other cheesey lines you haven't heard yet tonight?" That voice I could never forget, and I smiled at Shel like an idiot.

Gathering up some calmness I turned and said, "Hi!" Real original,very elegant. Doh! "Mind if I sit down," he asked, motioning to our markings covering a nearby chair.

"Please, do," I said as I threw the coats at Shel. I looked at her and widened my eyes, then dumped my drink on the floor. Yes, on purpose. Never drink and flirt, that's my motto.

"Well, this may sound stupid but in case you don't know, I'm Mike," said Mike, extending a hand for a shake. As I took his hand he covered my hand with his other, and looked squarely at me. He then said hello as I introduced him to Shelly. "Nice to meet you," he said to Shel, "and nice to finally really meet you personally," he said to me.

I'm dreaming, I said. I kicked Shelly to test this hypothesis. She kicked me back. Yep, it's real.

We sat and swigged drinks (I was drinking water now) and talked about life in town, basic interests, the general, "Hi, nice to meet you I know nothing about you save me from social floundering" category of talk. The three of us meshed well, never leaving a moment of dead air,settling into a very easy back and forth of discussion puctuated with occasional gales of laughter and bouts of table slapping.

I noticed after one round of drinks that he was drinking a Coke in lieu of something alcoholic. That's good, this ease was not the result of alcohol, the best social lubricant around.

After a little while Shel said, "I hate to break this up, but I really have to go. Company is coming tomorrow and my house is a mess. I have GOT to clean before I go to bed tonight." Genuinely sad to see her go but understanding that instinctive impulse to clean for company I said adieu and she snaked her way out of the bar.

Mike turned to me, smiled and said, "Good at trivia?" "Abysmal," I responded. "I'm worth a bit in science and nature, but forget sports or classical entertainment."

"We might make a good team, then, wanna try," he said, referring to the televised electronic trivia the bar pumped out to various sets mounted on the wall. I said sure and he spirited off to the bartender to check out a trivia machine.

We would have been horrible separately but we were great together. What I had no clue of he had at least a hunch, and we did pretty well. In order to see the keypad and small score screen on the small police scanner-looking machine, he scooted his chair up against mine, our thighs touching to the knee. He made no notice of it, but his actions through the night with Shel and I and various friends who came through the bar made it clear that he was in general a very low-personal-zone type person. He's gorgeous, sexy, and touchy. God this was too good to be true. He had to have a girlfriend. But where was she?

We continued playing until finally I couldn't take the smoke of the bar any longer and I said, "Man, I have GOT to get out of here. I hate looking stoned without having reaped the benefits."

"Wanna go somewhere else," he innocently asked? "Any ideas," I said. "Let's go get some ice cream and take a walk," he replied. Sounded good to me.

We crossed the street and got some ice cream, and upon leaving the store a friend of mine rushed up from behind me and scared me to death. We stood talking for a while, I introduced my new friend Mike, and my old friend stuck around for a block or two while we walked. Finally he said he had to go, that his girlfriend was waiting back in the bar two blocks away, so he squeezed my hand, pecked my cheek and ran down the street.

"Lucky guy," Mike said, giving me a mischevious smile.

"Well now don't feel jealous," I said, taking a step towards him and pecking him on the cheek. "There, feel better? Opps, wait," I said as I wiped the chocolate lip marks from his cheek.

He took a step into the alley we were standing in front of and said, "I have an idea, come here." Feeling no hesitation for some reason, I stood in front of him. "I've got vanilla, but I sorta want some chocolate," he said. "You've got it." He took a huge lick of his ice cream and looked at me and for some uncognizant reason I did the same with mine. He then in one smooth motion drew me to him and kissed me, and I started to giggle as we swapped ice cream. He started giggling too and when we pulled away we both had ice cream covered lips and chins. And we had no napkins. Licking our faces like little kids we both looked at each other and continued to walk down the street.

I finally stopped to think how I felt so comfortable. I liked him, liked him as a person and not as just some hot guy. Then I looked at his butt and realized that although that was true, he was a hot man.

We looked in store windows, laughing and ooohing at the same stuff. After about an hour of still non-stop talk and laughing, I said, "Man, I don't mean to be rude but I have to GO," I said, crossing my legs like a kid. He busted out laughing, turned a little pink and said, "God, I was about to say the same thing myself. <pause> Well, not that you had to go, but I had to," he said and laughed.

"My ride is close and I live near, you want to come to my place for a drink? I can show you that book we were talking about," I said. My intensions were not anything but what I had said, I realized.

"Sure," he said.

We walked to the truck and hopped in, and we both grew silent for some reason. He was the first to break it and he said, "You know, I had come to the bar to meet some friends, but when I got there and saw you... well, I went over and talked to them. They wanted to go bar hopping and get all shit faced but I declined and then went over to see if you were still there. I'm glad you were. I don't want to sound like a psychopath or anything, but it's been really nice, and very strange, I'll admit, to find someone where I can just be comfortable with. Some guys I know are jerks and the women are bitches and I can't find many people to just get along with, you know?"

I sort of swallowed loudly, not sure how to respond to such an innocent yet apparently heartfelt speech.

"Well, I do know what you mean. Shel and I are sorta that way, but I've been surprised at how well we have... meshed? I mean I've known of you for some time, but only met you tonight, yet it's like we've been friends for a while. Wierd, huh," I replied. "But enough of the mushy stuff, I think we're on the same wavelength, but I think I should warn you.... I live with someone."

"Oh... I didn't mean anything... well maybe I did but not really, I mean... I..." I couldn't contain myself any longer and I busted out, "Yeah, I live with my dog, Chelsea!" I giggled and said, "Man, I'm sorry, but I've always wanted to do that to someone!"

He slapped my leg and said, "What a tease!" "Anyway," I continued, "she is a little hyper and loves people, just like her owner. But she's the only one that humps legs."

"Darn!" Mike said, grinning.

"I just thought I'd warn you before you saw this black ball of fur flying towards you."

I keyed the door to my apartment and as I expected Chelsea gave me the once over and then mauled Mike to death. He got down on the floor with her and it was obvious he was a dog person; he held her and played with her and talked baby talk to her. All in all a very amusing sight.

I lit some oil candles, poured us both a Coke and then moved to sit on the couch, flipping the remote on the stereo to quietly play the local hard pop station.

As Chelsea's fit of amour subsided, Mike got up off of the floor and tried to brush off some of the patented SuperStick dog hairs that while they apprently couldn't stick to Chelsea stuck everywhere else.

He plopped down on the couch beside me, took a swig of his Coke, and said, "Nice place. Nice atmosphere. Very similar to how I like to relax."

"I think we're long lost twins or something," I said, then laughed as I looked at myself and then him. "Or maybe NOT!" I added, giggling.

We continued to talk, and discussion wandered to all areas of interest. Perusing my bookshelf he came upon a volume on massage, and said, "Does this stuff really work?" "Well, for what ends," I replied. "Well, just for relaxing and stuff. I've thought of going to one of the people here in town, but never now if it's really legit, you know? I want a back rub, not anything else!"

"At your service," I said, putting down my drink and rolling up my sleeves. "You do?" he asked plainly. "I'm not a professional or certified in any ways, but I've read my books and I please my friends. Beats $40 an hour."

"Uh... okay... uh what do I do," he shyly asked. "Whatever you want. If you want to keep your shirt on, that's fine but I can't use oil that way. If you want to take it off, that's fine, hell if you want to strip naked that's fine and we'll do the whole head to toe thing. Just remember that this is a massage, a gift I willingly give to you and expect nothing of in return, and one in which I hold strong to respecting your desires and what makes you comfortable. Wait, I know that sounds like a speel and it sort of is; a lot of people are really uncomfortable about this stuff but there's no need to be. Like I said, it's your game."

"Let's stick with the back for now, eh?" he said as he took off his shirt. I thought the earth moved but rather it was just the energy it took for me to remain focused and somewhat professional. God he had a bod. Beautiful. Magnifique! I'll surely go mad touching it, I thought to myself.

I spread my legs and scooted up to the edge of the couch, not my favorite way to do this but I felt lying down would make him feel odd. He walked towards me and sat down, scooting back up against me. I positioned his arms hanging over my knees to open up his shoulders and warmed up a generous amount of the oil, which I had grabbed from under the couch for earlier I had worked on Shel.

Lying my hands at the base of his neck I closed my eyes, blocked out all sound and sight and started go get into it. Before I slipped into an almost trancelike state I went through my other speel, about how my job was made all the easier by feedback, and if something were too light or too hard he needed to tell me, whether by grunts or simple phrases, whatever felt comfortable to him.

Limiting my attention to my hands and a sort of sixth sense that's not easily describable, I began to spread oil and warmth across his shoulders, using both hands close together to grab handdfuls of muscle and knead them, starting softly then agressively searching out the knots and kinks. Using not just my hands but the force of my body behind them I roamed out to the edges of his shoulders, then separated my hands and lightly traveled down his back to his waist, finding pressure points along either side of his spine and working out towards his sides from there. Soon he was really relaxing and starting to respond with gutteral moans and sounds, wincing and then hissing as I loosened many knots between his shoulder blades. After crossing his shoulders and lower back I returned to his neck and traveled around to under his chin and down to his chest. I wasn't thinking and just went with what my hands and that sense told me to.

Arms moving over his shoulders I moved over his chest, down his stomach and as I came closer to the waistband of his jeans I felt, in a physical sense, a strong warmth emminating from.... uh oh, so much for keeping it professional, I thought, as I opened my eyes and spied a very large bulge at his crotch. I hesitated for just a second, breaking my own spell and he said, in my ear since I was leaning over his shoulders, "Please, don't stop." He then gently kissed me on the ear and laid his head against mine.

Breathing deep I moved lower and gently undid the button on his pants, then parted the fabric at the zipper, and sighed at the marvelous sights revealed. I spread oil lower, into the hair that thickened as I traveled down further, and finally slid my fingers just inside the band of his underwear.

Gently he moved so he could slide his pants down further, and I was simply in love with the sight revealed. I love men's bodies, they are beautiful and arousing; whoever said that men are ugly and woman are beautiful? The strong penis lying in a thick bed of black hair, soft and curly. With oily hands I firmly grasped his dick, moving one hand over the length and then the other. He let out a strange little whimper and immediately his breath came faster. I gave him the best massage of all for a few minutes, until he seemed to awake and he said, "Alright, turn about is fair play."

He stood up and removed all of his clothes, and I sat there in front of him marveling at the beauty. He said, "I've not the know how but rather the drive for this, would you help me out," he said as he grabbed the massage oil. "Of course," I said.

I stood up and removed my clothes too. Before I could lie down he rushed at me and wrapped himself around me, pressing my breasts to his chest and my hips to his crotch. Kissing deeply I ground my pelvis into him needily.

(Doh! She's too tired to finish it! Arg!)
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