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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

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Sex trope #11 wiiiith.. whoever you think would give the best massages cos this bitch 🙋🏼‍♀️ is a big ol horny slut for massages. 😁 Pls and thank you. ❤️

# 11 is … touching anywhere but where the person desperately wants to be touched … I’m gonna deliver on that Steve smut you swore you never knew you needed 😉

* * * * *

“And you are 100% certain that me, getting naked, is going to help you pass your last elective?”

“Not naaaked,” Steve said slowly as his hand came up and scratched at the back of his head.

You raised your eyebrow as you took in the desperation on your friend’s face; it was cute that he was so nervous about asking you to do this for him.

“I’ve had massages before, Steve. If this is some kind of a trick …” you threatened, narrowing your eyes to see if he’d break.

“I promise,” he said quickly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his loose jeans. “I just need to practice on someone and I kinda waited until the last minute so I’m kinda outta options.”

“Big surprise,” you quipped with a roll of your eyes.

“So … you’ll do it?”

With a resolved look, you uttered, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Thanks, Y/N!” Steve said, his face splitting into a toothy grin. “Come over in an hour? I have to set up the table and stuff.”

* * * * *

In exactly one hour’s time, you knocked lightly on the door to Steve Dibiasi’s apartment. One part of you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, and another part of you was curious to see if he was actually any good at it. Plus, you’d known Steve since sophomore year. He was a silly, sweet guy, and you had almost hooked up on more than one occasion, the key word being almost. Either you were seeing someone, or he was seeing someone, or the stress of midterms or finals was making all of your friends do regrettable things, so thanks to bad timing, it just never happened.

Steve answered the door with what you could have sworn was a shy smile. The Steve you knew was never embarrassed, despite the fact that some of the things that came out of his mouth should have embarrassed him. He had ditched his flannel and was dressed in a dark blue t-shirt and the same jeans from this afternoon.

Music was quietly playing in the apartment, and it looked like, for once, Steve or his roommate had actually picked up after themselves.

You shrugged out of your jacket and tossed it on the sofa along with your bag.

“Where’s the table?”

“In my room. Figured that was more private in case Felix comes back from his girlfriend’s early.”

“So, I guess I’ll just go in and get ready? Give me like five minutes?”

Steve hustled over to the door of his bedroom and opened it; he had candles lit and the massage table looked professional—it had sheets on it, along with a thick blanket on top that kept the client warm and covered as the massage therapist worked.

“I’m … impressed,” you said, tossing a quizzical smile over your shoulder.

“Thanks,” Steve said, hands in his pockets again as he lingered in the doorway.

“So … I’ll just be stripping down now.”

“Fuck! Right. Sorry. Five minutes,” he stammered as he shut the door behind him.

You laughed to yourself as you stripped down to your bra and panties. After a moment’s thought, you unhooked your bra and tossed it onto Steve’s bed with the rest of your clothes.

You climbed onto the table and laid on your back, assuming this was a typical full body massage. You snuggled under the blanket but brought your arms out to lay on top.

“Ready!” you called, wondering if Steve was—

Hovering just outside of the door, he came bursting in before you could even close your mouth.

“I should’ve asked this first, but I forgot. Is there anywhere you don’t want me to touch you?” his big blue eyes appeared over you and looked comically concerned.

You laughed again, “Aside from the obvious?”

He rolled his eyes, “Duh,” then asked, “Did you really get naked?”

“How unprofessional of you to ask, Mr. Masseur,” you teased.

“Sorry, I just—I’ll just get started.”

At first you watched him fumble around with the massage oil, but as soon as his hands were sliding across your skin, your eyes drifted shut.

He started with your right hand, working various pressure points before he slid up your arm and massaged your bicep. As Steve came closer to your head, you were suddenly very aware of how good he smelled. By the time he had rubbed his way to your neck, you were incapable of stopping the moan that fell from your lips.

“Good?” he asked, and you could hear the cocky little grin on his lips.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“Seriously, though. Is the pressure okay? I was supposed to ask that earlier but forgot because you have such pretty skin.”

You cracked open an eye, but all you could see was a tuff of curls as Steve began to massage down your left arm.

“Pressure is great,” you replied, wondering if he was even aware of what he had just said.

After working his way down your left arm, he returned to your torso, focusing more on the fronts of your shoulders than the backs. You were acutely aware of how easy it would be for Steve to just “slip” under the blanket and massage your breasts, and you could feel your nipples growing hard at your mind’s suggestion.

What the fuck, you scolded yourself. And then, much more flippantly, you thought, what the fuck. Maybe, the timing was finally right for—

“Yikes!” you hissed, shivering a little as a blob of too-cold massage oil dripped onto your chest.

Steve apologized as he quickly scooped up as much as he could.

“You know, Steve,” you said quietly, “You could just keep working your way down my, uh, front.”

You could feel the room actually pause as Steve stopped moving.

Then he chuckled, “Nice one. You almost got me.”

Damn. It was going to be harder than you thought to get him to touch you where you wanted to be touched.

“I’m going to move on to your legs now,” Steve announced, actually remembering something he was supposed to say. “Let me know if the pressure is okay.”

He started working on your right leg, and the way he was pressing into the arch of your foot was divine. If those fingers felt that good on your foot, imagine what they could do—

“Cute toes.”

“Mmm. I’ve got cuter parts under this sheet,” you said breathily without opening your eyes.

Steve giggled, “Stop that. Makes it hard to keep this pro-fess-ion-al,” he enunciated.

“You just complimented my toes!”

“Fuck. You’re right. I suck at this.”

You sat up on your elbows and looked at him, taken aback by how sexy he looked as he held your left foot in his big hands, his fingers pressing over your toes.

“Steve—I’m teasing. You’re … damn good with your hands,” you finished, your voice lowering as you gave him a seductive look.

Steve paused his movements and really looked at you, his eyes scanning your face like he was really seeing you for the first time; you almost snickered as you watched the realization that this could become a game dawn across his features.

Slowly, Steve began to work up your left leg, his touches soft as his fingers danced up your shin rather than massaged.

You bit your lip as you watched him, his eyes still trained on your face.

“Lie back, Y/N,” he rumbled, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it before.

You complied, snuggling back under the thick blanket until you felt the weight of it flung off you. Now, all that was separating your mostly naked body from Steve’s eyes was a very thin sheet.

“How’s the pressure? he purred, his hands straddling your thigh as he moved upward, the massage oil allowing them to slide silkily over your skin.

There was no hiding your pert nipples from him now, and you just hummed in response, your fingers flexing against the table.

Higher and higher, Steve’s hands climbed closer to where you wanted them, but just as his fingers were a breath away from your core, he slid them back down your thigh.

“Time to roll over,” he said in a too-professional tone.

Again, you picked your head up to look at him, fixing him with a glare.

Steve just looked back at you, his lips slightly parted before he gave you a nod of encouragement.

But you weren’t about to play fair.

You sat up, stretching, and let the sheet fall away to pool at your waist.

“Fuuuck,” Steve whispered, his eyes wide as his tongue poked out to wet his lips.

You took your time, stretching high above your head, pushing your chest out and even running your hands over your breasts, giving them a little squeeze before finally rolling over onto your stomach. You situated your arms to lay on either side of your head as you rested on your cheek, your eyes settling on the flickering candles closest to Steve’s bedroom door.

“Mmm. So relaxed,” you murmured, your wicked grin hidden from him.

But Steve wasn’t out of this new game yet. He lathered up his hands again and moved to stand directly in front of your face, his hard cock, clearly visible beneath his jeans. As he leaned in to start massaging your back, his crotch brushed against your arm.

“How’s the pressure?” he asked as his length casually pressed into your forearm.

Two could play at that game.

“How is the pressure?” you returned, pressing your arm into his cock.

You felt his hands stutter as they slid down your back, and with a growl of frustration, Steve stopped touching you only to grasp your upper body and roll you over, damn near dumping you off the table before he caught you and pulled your bare chest to his covered one.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he said, his eyes looking down at your lips before he captured them in a brutal kiss.

You both moaned at the contact and you clutched at the hem of his t-shirt before yanking it up and over his head. You wasted no time in stripping him down to be as naked as you, your fingers flying over his button and zipper, his too loose jeans pooling at his feet.

He scrambled out of them and climbed on to the massage table, settling his body over yours as you never stopped kissing. Your skin was still warm and slick from the massage oil and even though Steve’s hands were everywhere, they still weren’t in the one place you wanted them.

“Touch me, please,” you begged.

Steve pulled back, his lips red and shiny as he caught his breath and said, “Thought that’s what I was doing for the last half hour.”

“Stop being an asshole!” you whined, kicking off the tangled sheet so you could spread your legs.

“I could get fired for—”

“Oh my god, Steve! Please,” you groaned.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling and his teeth flashing as he finally moved his hand to your abdomen. He began to rub lightly, back and forth along your panty line.

“Hey,” he said, forcing your eyes to focus on him.

You looked up and were sobered by the adoration in them.

“I really like you,” Steve said. “I don’t want this to just be a one-off.”

“I like you, too,” you said with a soft smile.

“Obviously,” he said with a wriggle of his brows.

“Shut up and touch me,” you returned, reaching down to wrap your hand around his hard cock.

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he groaned low in his throat at the contact, but you pulled your grip away just as quick.

Steve’s thick fingers dipped below the waistband of your panties as his eyes opened and locked on yours. He watched your face as he slid through your wet lips, parting them to press into your clit with his middle finger.

“Oh, fuck yes,” you moaned.

“How’s the pressure?” he asked, his face split into a shit-eating grin.

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