Page 29 of Angel's Whisper

“I was merely making a suggestion that you get undressed and then dress in your robe,” Massimo explained, his brow relaxing and his eyes conveying the sentiment of his heart. “I’ll meet you in the living room, and then we’ll go get our massages together.”

Massimo waited to see that Isotta had processed what he had tried to convey. Her brow relaxed after she searched his eyes. When he smiled, then the real nature of his suggestion finally sank in.

“I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

Massimo nodded his head, offered her a slight bow, and exited the bedroom. Isotta shook her head and then blushed, covering her burgeoning smile with her hand. She felt relieved to some extent as she undressed and put on a slip. She couldn’t be completely naked under her robe with unknown hands touching her. Isotta made her way out of the bedroom after putting on her robe and tying it tightly around her waist. She approached Massimo, who stood in the living room with a robe of his own on.

“You look beautiful,” Massimo said. “Now, let’s get you relaxed.”

He extended his hand once again, and Isotta folded hers into his. Massimo led them through the living room and down the hallway into a spa-like area. There were two tables with crisp linens tucked neatly. Candles were lit, and soft music was playing, setting the tone for their upcoming experience. In the corner, Isotta noticed that the scent of frankincense and myrrh emanated from a heated pot that warmed the fragrant scent.

“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Ricci.”

Massimo and Isotta turned to see who had addressed them.

“Good afternoon, Vesta,” Massimo answered. Isotta nodded her greeting.

“This is my assistant, Aya, and we are pleased to provide your massages this afternoon. We will give you a moment to get settled onto the tables, on your bellies, and then we’ll return to begin.”

Isotta watched as Vesta and Aya exited the room. Massimo walked over to where the hooks were and took off his robe. Isotta didn’t intend to stare. She really didn’t. However, when Massimo disrobed, Isotta found herself transfixed by what she saw. Massimo’s tall, athletic frame looked like he’d been dipped in olive gold. Isotta’s eyes trailed from Massimo’s thickly corded neck to the width of his shoulders tapering down to his sculpted waist accentuated with not a six-pack, but Isotta could have sworn she counted at least eight clearly defined abdominal muscles. Isotta found it hard to breathe as her eyes moved deliberately, taking in the curve of his taut ass to the mound that couldn’t be denied in front of his boxers. Her eyes widened uncontrollably. There was a tightening in her core that trickled down to her essence, a feeling Isotta had never experienced when it came to Massimo. She was so preoccupied with drinking him that Isotta didn’t notice Massimo saw her looking his way. Isotta’s eyes continued trailing the length of Massimo’s muscle-bound legs down to his firmly planted feet. His body was more than amazing. Isotta felt heat rising in her cheeks as she lay down on the bed. She turned her head away from Massimo for fear that her thoughts would overtake her.

When Massimo was settled on the bed, Aya and Vesta returned. They dimmed the lights and lit some candles to add even more to the ambiance of the space.

When she dared to look up, her eyes locked with Massimo’s. The penetrating heat that assaulted Isotta’s cheeks caused an instant flush that refused to subside. Still, that charge paled in comparison to the thump she felt in her yoni. And for that lower, carnal desire, Isotta felt guilty. She was finally able to tear her eyes away from Massimo, compelled by the call of her masseuse to lie down on the table. Isotta took a moment to pull her long tresses up high on her head, twisting them into a loose knot. As her arms lowered, Isotta’s fingers grazed the collar of the robe, and she lowered it from her shoulders. This time, Massimo was the one captivated. He didn’t intend to look. Massimo averted his eyes. But it felt like a force stronger than him that pulled his attention back to her.

The white of the robe faded as the tan of Isotta’s flawless skin was revealed. She wore a strapless black two-piece bikini underneath. He barely noticed. Massimo’s eyes engulfed the elegance of her neck and then the smoothness of her refined shoulders. Slowly, Massimo sat down on the table as the titillating curve of Isotta’s back overwhelmed his senses, arousing his masculine proclivities. The curve of Isotta’s pronounced ass made Massimo’s nature rise. The ache he felt in his loins made it hard to lie down. But he did. Massimo watched Isotta's ascent to the table; the thickness of her thighs and the firmness of her calves enticed him beyond what Massimo could admit. He had to turn away from her to quiet the tension in his loins, the desire in his heart, and the craving for his flesh.

Just close your eyes and relax,” Vesta encouraged as she rubbed hot oil on her hands. She started at Isotta’s feet, massaging her heels, then her toes. What Vesta did with Isotta, Aya did the same with Massimo. Isotta smiled, feeling the tickle when Vesta first touched her feet but quickly settled into the feeling, the press of her hands, the warmth of the oil. Isotta took in a deep breath and then released it slowly, allowing her body to relax even more. The masseuses continued to do their work, working up their client’s legs, reapplying warmed oils, and massaging them into their muscles. Massimo relaxed, too, enjoying the release he felt.

The warmth of the scented oil pressed deep into her supple skin lured Isotta into an uninhibited dream state. Reality faded into fantasy, and the restraints she held in consciousness gave way to her deepest desires, permeating the barrier of her subconscious. He was there, occupying the space between waking and sleep. It was Isotta’s hands that possessed the scented oil, rubbing it deep into Massimo’s bronzed skin. She felt the swell of the muscles in his shoulders. And as her hands moved in smooth circular motions, Isotta felt the strength of his pecs. Her heated hands fingered every ripple of his abs and caressed the tightness of his waist. She felt the thick of his dick pressing against the waif of material that shielded her wanton jewel, giving way under his quaking desire.

The moan that passed through Isotta’s lips penetrated Massimo’s ears. He, too, lingered between awake and asleep as his body gave way to the masseuse’s skillful touch. But it wasn’t a stranger’s hands that kneaded his flesh. It was the hands of the one he craved that soothed him. Her touch was like a charge of pulsating energy that ignited the synapses in his mind, firing scintillating responses to every stroke of her fingertips. The veins of his swollen manhood filled, pressing against the thin barrier that kept him from her. As her hands descended to his thighs, his fingers traipsed the length of her milky white thighs until they found the swell of her mound throbbing, hot under his touch. His hips tensed as his dick thumped hard with intention. His fingers found the softness of her folds, cloaked behind the thinly veiled fabric that could no longer keep her from him. He stroked her there, thrusting his fingers gently within her walls, striking her pearl with intention. She gave into him, coating his probing fingers with a sweet essence. The strain in his manhood was hard to contain. He wanted her. He needed her.

“That’s the end of our session,” the masseuses whispered, breaking through their dream space and drawing them both back from the brink of their collective yearnings.

Her mink lashes fluttered with the call to return to reality. When Isotta opened her eyes, Massimo was there. His eyes had already found her, and the desire that taunted his dreams danced in hers.

Chapter Fourteen

The next day, after a restful night of sleep where they hugged each other while they slept with no press for performance, Massimo and Isotta set out for a little fun in the sun. They dressed in their bathing suits after a hearty breakfast and ventured out into the mid-morning air.

“I thought a bit of parasailing would give us an opportunity to take in the natural beauty of our surroundings,” Massimo suggested as he led Isotta down the beach. She willingly walked beside him, placing her free hand on his arm and stroking it lightly.

“Good morning, Zeus,” Massimo called out. Zeus was the driver of the yacht they were scheduled to take.

“Good morning, sir, ma’am,” Zeus called back. He waded knee-deep in the water but made his way back to the shore as Massimo and Isotta approached. The two men shook hands as they met. “Zeus, this is my wife, Isotta.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Isotta said as Zeus greeted her.

“I hope you two are up for a day of sailing, parasailing, and wonderful fun,” Zeus suggested.

“Sounds good,” Isotta replied.

“Sounds like fun,” Massimo answered.

“Well, let’s get to it, shall we?” Zeus smiled.

Massimo and Isotta followed Zeus from the edge of the beach into the water. Isotta was trepidatious. The dun had risen not long ago, and she had concerns that the water may be cool. She dipped her toe in and quickly pulled it back.

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