Having recently moved from New York to Boston, I am faced with the novelty of a new city — both the exciting and the lonely aspects of that experience. I left an environment I had grown comfortable in, one in which I enjoyed many friends and a long-standing relationship with a wonderful man. Before I left, Scott and I discussed the possibility of marriage, but it didn’t feel like the appropriate time to enter into that kind of commitment. And, in all honesty, I suppose I wasn’t willing to sacrifice the job offer which had required my relocation. So Scott and I maintain a long-distance relationship which has worked out nicely.

Living in a new city has given me the opportunity to explore facets of my own personality I had previously been too embarrassed to expose. An associate at work had suggested to me, after my repeated complaints of fatigue and tension, that I visit her masseuse and skin-care specialist. She explained to me that Erica was a holistic practitioner who carefully created a very relaxing atmosphere. This sounded luxurious. I took the name and number.

The strange and instant attraction I felt to Erica when we first met was remarkable. We are physically the same size, tall and athletic, and I immediately sensed that we were sharing this feeling for one another. Erica asked me to go into the dressing room and remove my clothing; she provided me with a smock I was to wear during her treatment. I followed her directions, speculating to myself, as I changed, as to how charged the atmosphere really was — was this actually a setting in which we could explore this particular energy?

Well, I have never felt as relaxed and aroused as when Erica began to apply those silky creams to my skin, her deft fingers and kneading palms gliding effortlessly over my body. She was giving me a facial, but when she began to run her hands down my shoulders, massaging my muscles as she edged farther down my body, I realized that she might be suggesting in her oblique manner that she enjoyed this intimacy. I kept hoping that her fingers would go far enough down my chest to touch my breasts, edging along until my smock slipped away and she took my breasts in her warm palms and caressed them with the same care she was giving my face and neck.

Erica provided me with a divine experience — I felt refreshed and relaxed — but she didn’t seem inclined to violate her professional responsibility. After I changed back into my business clothes, I came out of the dressing room and we stood facing one another. I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to see more of her. We fumbled about for a few minutes. Finally she suggested that, since we lived in the same neighborhood, we might go for a drink after work. I was so happy that Erica had bridged this abyss.

We had a cozy dinner instead. Erica selected a small, intimate bistro near where we both lived. Afterward I felt that we were back to the same dilemma — in my inexperience, I didn’t know how to handle this leap to the next stage. When we walked outside, I was still unsure as to whether the evening was over. Erica looped her arm through mine and led me down the walk. We ended up in front of her apartment. I knew that this was my opportunity, and I wasn’t going to let it slip away. “Will you ask me up?”

“Is this what you want?” Erica searched my face.

Once we were settled in her apartment, enjoying a drink in front of the fireplace, we began to explore each other’s body. Erica asked me to lie alongside her on the rug. She began to rub my back, and at first I felt shy about touching her in the same way, unsure about feeling a woman so close to me. And yet, our physical sameness inspired me to explore her body as though it were my own.

My lips found their way into the crevice of her blouse, and I tasted the faintly scented skin-skin more tender and smooth than any I had ever felt against my lips. It was so easy to follow this path to her breasts. I unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, aroused by the sight of her lacy brassiere and struck by my vagueness as to the method of removing this garment quickly and gracefully.

Erica had slipped her hands into the back of my pants, teasing the crevice of my butt, pressing my body into hers, urging me to mount her there on the rug. I hadn’t known that it would be exactly like this-me climbing on top of her as though I were the man. And yet it wasn’t a masculine gesture at all. Mounting her suddenly felt like the only way to join my body to hers. Erica easily unbuttoned my pants and slipped them past my hips. The chill of that air against my skin urged me to press myself against her warmth. I realized how wet I had become and saw my own arousal stain the surface of her stocking.

Erica held me tight, her palms aggressively pulling me into her cunt. I managed to unclasp her brassiere, lifting her full breasts out into the air. Without me thinking about it, my lips took her nipples as quickly as I could find them in the fire-lit room — a more instinctive response than I had ever known. She reached down to her skirt and quickly pulled it off.

We were making love now on the rug in front of the fire. I found myself fucking her between her legs, grinding my pussy against hers, both of us finding a rhythm which suited our need. Erica was sucking my breasts, teasing my nipples with her deft tongue, until I was crying with desire.

Erica positioned me alongside her. She climbed over me and straddled my pussy, watching me from her perch. I needed to kiss her now, and she wouldn’t let me. She reached down and held my waist as she ground determinedly into me. I could feel her soft pubic hair brushing against my clit, her clit struggling to snuggle against mine, until finally we made perfect contact.

Slowly, hypnotically and easily, we rubbed our wet cunts together. Circling in the same repeating pattern, we rubbed against each other until the rapture of orgasm burst upon us both. Sighing, we separated to rest side by side on the rug.

Later that night, we continued to explore our new intimacy and began to discover what lay beneath our powerful attraction. This wasn’t going to be a one-night affair.