Innocent beginnings

Innocent beginnings

Read about the author Megan Barnett

Valentine’s Day is usually one of my favourite days of the year because it’s another excuse to spoil Mr Divine and indulge with chocolates and a nice bottle of wine. This year, however, I was really put out.

I’d been suffering with a wickedly sore back over the weekend after stupidly thinking that moving some furniture on my own was a good idea. Sure, I got the job done, but I paid for it massively the next day! I knew it was bad when even a steaming hot bath with muscle relaxing bubbles didn’t help.

Finding myself in massive discomfort, I gave up on Sunday and went to bed in the early afternoon, hoping that some painkillers, our firm mattress and comfy bedding would do the trick.
About half an hour later, Mr Divine poked his head around the door to check on me.

“Feeling any better?” He asked tentatively.

“Not in the slightest.” I grumbled, sighing as I hauled myself onto my side to face him.

“How about I give you a back rub, love?” He suggested, entering the room swiftly and closing the door behind him.

“That would be lovely!” I replied, nearly bursting into tears. Mr Divine could be ever so thoughtful at times!

Wincing, I eased myself out of bed and carefully took off my pyjama top for a proper rub down while my husband made the bed, lit some candles and located the massage oil we’d purchased a few weeks ago but had shoved straight into the cupboard. I was pleased that we were finally putting it to use! It had such a sensual aroma, ylang ylang I think, and it filled the air, creating a relaxing ambience.

I got onto the bed again, face down with my head in the plumped pillows, and Mr Divine hopped on and straddled my legs. I heard him rub the aromatic oil onto his hands thoroughly before his silky hands were firmly at the base of my neck.

I groaned with relief as he worked his powerful hands down my spine, probing nibble fingers between my shoulder blades as if they could sense where the pain was emanating from.

“Is that better?” He asked.

“That feels amazing.” I replied with a heavy sigh.

He continued to massage his fingers around my neck and shoulders, pausing every now and then to apply the warmed oil onto my skin. I felt as if I was melting to his touch, my skin tingling when a hand would slip towards my breast, only to return to my back, teasing me.

My groans of pleasure turned to softer sighs as Mr Divine worked his magic, and I felt so much better. Just when I was about to tell him he had done his job, his hands began to dance to a different rhythm, one that was slower, more sensual.

His masterful hands began to snake their way lower down my back, then up again. Soon he was working my whole back, running his hands around my torso to my tummy, teasing his fingers under the waistband of my pyjama bottoms.

I tried not to squirm with delight but I couldn’t help myself; he was running his hands over my body with such a delicious rigour that I barely noticed that he’d tugged my pyjamas down until his fingers were at my clitoris, his thumb gently massaging my G-Spot.

The pillows muffled my moans, and with one hand at my wetness, another massaged its way up my back once more, sending electricity through me as Mr Divine slid his hand to my breast, teasing my puckering nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I could feel his weight against me as he began to kiss my neck, and I was starting to become overwhelmed with pleasure; as he expertly teased my nipple, my swelling clit and my G-Spot, I felt the spark within me ignite into a full blaze! I bit down hard onto my pillow to subdue my cries of pleasure, and body contorted against Mr Divine’s as I fell into an uncontrollable rapture.

As my husband retracted his hands from me, all I could muster was feeble mutterings rather than coherent sentences, as I felt dizzy from my orgasm.

“I think we still have some work to do, wouldn’t you agree?” Mr Divine whispered, as he gently turned me over onto my back. His pupils darkened as he took in my flushed face, and I couldn’t help but smile as he devoured every inch of me with his eyes. I groaned as delicate fingers traced circles down my chest, teasing at my nipples, down my stomach.

I was expectant now, hungry for his touch at my wetness once more: the fire that had been burning deep within my core was far from extinguished! I bit my bottom lip as I ached for his touch; I began to squirm just imagining his swirling, twirling fingers beckoning me to edge into a world of sheer orgasmic bliss!

Much to my chagrin, his hands slipped lower, cupping my buttocks and massaging my legs. Initially, this frustrated me, but then Mr Divine began to massage my inner thighs, manipulating my flesh as if he was creating a work of art- his hands were deliberate, firm, passionate. Usually I would beg for his touch so I could feel my climax crash like violent ocean waves, but now the building anticipation was even more arousing.

It was as if he was exploring my body for the first time; his oiled hands caressing my flesh with a greedy purpose. He lowered his mouth and planted firm kisses up my thigh and I quivered every time his lips grazed my skin. I arched my back, eager for him to kiss my swollen bud. When he did so it took all of my might to not burst there and then!

I relished in the feeling of his hot tongue lavishly caressing my clitoris, his fingers once again finding their way inside me, drawing me closer to the brink.

Just as I had fantasised, my climax was wild, untamed and coursed through my entire being! I lay panting as Mr Divine smiled lovingly at me.

“Better?” He asked.

“You have no idea!” I sighed. It would seem my Valentine’s Day wasn’t too bad after all!