one of your backrubs. That's if you've got the energy for it."

"Yeah, I can handle that." I always could. ‘Backrub’ always translated to ‘body massage’. It was the one intimacy that was allowed between us; a line we both walked up to without hesitation, but never crossed.

"I've got some lotion with my stuff. Could you rub some in? I think I overdid it in the sun today."
"Sure, get comfortable. I'll be right back." As I returned to Ronnie, I couldn't help but think that tonight was going to be a night for the truth. We were both naked. He had caught me stealing peeks at his cock all day but was still willing to let me give him a massage. This was either a demonstration of his trust, or of his desire.

When I returned, I stood over him. I'd seen this sight so many times in my dreams. I knelt down and touched him. It was no dream. I squeezed some lotion into my hands and warmed it. Starting at the calluses on the bottom of his feet, I began working my way up his legs. His body relaxed under my roaming hands. As I felt the firmness of his muscles, I wondered at how they could be such a vision of strength to the eyes and yet be so yielding to the hands. I kneaded his thighs, but stopped at the fold marking the start of his butt. I next worked on his hands. I was aware of the meatiness of his palms, the texture of his fingerprints, and the rigidity of the bones, which gave his hands their shape and structure. But the power I knew to be in them was not evident that night. What was it about his hands that made them so sensual? With his acceptance of my sensual massage, he was letting me know that he trusted me. Through my tender touch, I was telling him of my love for him. The messages were so much clearer than any that could be heard with the ears or seen with the eyes. My fingers traveled across the landscape of his arms and back. The lotion that I applied to his skin gave it a satiny sheen that was reflected by the firelight. Finally, my hands were on his ass. The twin muscular mounds exploded with goose bumps when I spread the lotion over them. This was the only place that was really sunburned and I gave them special attention. I worked down at the base of his spine, I moved lower, kneading his cheeks, feeling them clench together. As I moved closer to his legs, he repositioned himself. He was making himself more vulnerable!

I wanted to plunge in, to live my fantasy, but he was more than just a willing piece of ass to me. He was the love of my life, and I wanted to see his face.

"Roll over Ronnie," I said gently. With no hesitation he did. I gazed down upon him as I proceeded to massage his feet and legs. His submission was unmistakable and undeniable. Soon I was straddling his stomach, leaning forward on my knees, exploring the ridges and valleys of his abdominal muscles. With each breath his ribs rose and fell beneath me. At last I molded my hands to his wonderfully sculpted chest. So broad, so muscular, I couldn't feel the ribs underneath. As I touched his nipples they contracted, forcing the nubs to attention. I felt his heart beat stronger.