The Italian Stallion Part 8
Tantric massages had become very popular in Samitra's studio, and she needed to keep up with the demands and requests from customers; male, females, and gays, as each had their own preference for therapists depending on their tastes for life.

She had one male therapist on staff, and had been interviewing potential female new hires unsuccessfully at the time that Max had called for an appointment.

In haste, to buy time, she had scheduled Max for an appointment, and to prevent him from seeking outside competition.

He had become too valuable a customer to let him drift elsewhere; besides, he had planned to buy into her business with a desire to add a Yoga & Spa Center to her existing business.

Max would have frowned on the idea of having to see a male Tantra therapist, and Samitra did not want to offend him or have him question her business integrity, especially when so close to merging business transactions with him.

Back at the restaurant, Samitra had felt uneasy when Max had reminded her of his Tantric massage appointment, for it was just a few days away and she had not found a qualified female replacement.

She then had realized she was running out of time and it would absolutely imperative to keep his appointment as scheduled.

As she had proceeded to leave the restaurant, she had stopped and hesitated for a brief moment, which had given Max a chance to catch up to her.

"Let me walk you to the door Sami."

He proceeded to escort her out through the maze of restaurant tables, guiding her as if they were on a dance floor, and she stopped just a few feet from the front door entry.

The doorman had motioned her to pass through, but she half-turned to Max with a smile and had said, "Thanks again for meeting with me Max."

"It was an honor, Sami," at which time he took the lead, placed his hand on her back, and had swerved her forward out the door beneath the restaurant overhead canopy.

He had watched her walk away, dodging in and out of heavy pedestrian traffic in a synchronized cat-like manner.

While he had admired her good taste for professional attire, once again, he had been aroused by the way her high-heels accented her calves and beautiful legs.

Eventually he had lost sight of her, having left him with a thrilling sensation below his belt.

Unlike Max, Samitra did most of her thinking while in motion such as walking or jogging because it was during active moments that she had been able to successfully infuse new ideas of creativity.

By the time Samitra had returned to her studio she had mentally drafted her plans to move forward.

She then had called her business attorney, and company CPA, to meet with her to have business documents prepared and ready to meet with Max in his conference room.

Max had just returned to his high-rise office and had spoken with his attorney, and CPA to prepare documentation for Samitra's visit.

He had tried to continue working on unfinished pending business but had found it troubling to concentrate as Samitra had continued to occupy his mind since their lunch together.

He had been smitten by her, and it had disturbed him having thoughts that he had been invisible to her outside of business activity.

Interrupting thoughts of her swarmed through his mind; he felt challenged that he had not been able to drill a dyke hole through her impenetrable psyche.

This uncertainty had left him feeling like a bee hovering over a stubborn, tight rosebud, waiting with great anticipation for her to open up and display her loveliness.

These types of thoughts annoyed Max.

He hadn't considered Samitra a menace to his posture, only to his thinking, because she was beginning to it distract him away from business matters.

He realized that he needed to overcome this dilemma.

He dialed his administrative secretary and directed her to hold all his calls, and to take messages.

His instructions were that he was to remain undisturbed in his office.

It was time for him to spend a few minutes alone; time with himself in his balcony just outside his office.

Max had a peculiar way of thinking.

He had considered himself to be a higher evolved person than the average man, and his success was proof enough.

He believed in the unseen, powerful resources available to man that existed beyond the naked eye. One just had to learn to tap into them with a clear and open mind.

He also believed in the power of intention.

He was a day-dreamer, unlike others; he simply would apply the power of day-dreaming with focused intention, followed by induced meditation.

With promising results, this private therapy enhanced his positive thoughts, and weakened his distractions.

Thereafter, he would follow through with precise action steps that would manifest his visions successfully.

His balcony was his private sanctuary where he had a few plants, a small table, and one comfortable chair.

This was his private palace, the throne, where he would think things through in minute detail, and where he smoked his expensive cigars in solitude.

Although this was a periodic ritual, it served for both business and personal goals.

If it was business related, he would remain in business attire, rolled up sleeves, and a loosely knotted tie.

If it was personal, he would make himself more comfortable, like today. This was special; it was going to be about Samitra.

Max had refreshed himself with a shower, slipped into a robe, his slippers, and decided he would puff on a cigar for just a few minutes.

While he rolled his cigar between his thumb and fingers, his thoughts had satiated on Samitra.

He whispered to himself, "Sami, I am on fire and you're dool as ice, why?"

He was beginning to have thoughts that weren't innocent; an intimate rendezvous with her in his imagination had begun to unfold.

She had been driving him crazy as he had an overwhelming passion for her.

He had seen her today at lunch, and like a whispering wind, she moved on, having left him in a quandary with his silent thoughts.

Earlier today, she had galloped away, having lost sight of her in the massive crowd of pedestrians.

When she had walked, he had likened her to a gazelle in the wilderness of pedestrians having displayed her various qualities of speed, sleekness, and sensuality.

He had recalled how her lipstick had graced the rim of her water glass, and her table napkin at the restaurant.

She had possessed lips of fire that revealed her personality and independence; the kind of lips that had always told those around her that they had no choice but to follow her rules.

Although she had led a happy, secure, and honest life, he could see that she had been destined with a strong character that had prevented her from finding her soul mate, and Max had been eager to change her destiny.

Having made himself comfortable out in the balcony, he had meditated a few minutes to clear his mind of unfinished pending business.

Then his thoughts had turned to day-dreams of Samitra.

The thought of her giving him a soothing, blissful Tantric massage gave him an immediate erection, but he had managed to let that vision pass by as if watching a movie screen.

Thereafter, he had brought Samitra's image clearly into the faculties of his mind that it seemed like he could smell her perfume, and had envisioned holding her soft hands in his.

Having known that she was very fond of ballroom dancing, vivid details had begun to appear that he had been moving her about the dance floor, forward, backwards, left to right, spinning and spinning having displayed their gracious moves together.

In his mind, he saw that she had been attracting various male dancers who had been seeking an opportunity to sweep her off her feet, but she was hypnotized to him.

He had been in command moving her about the dance floor likened to a Matador maneuvering his flowing cape before a large crowd of gawkers.

He saw himself moving her about the dance floor in twists and turns, shifting her torso with his guiding hands emphasizing her pronounced curvatures from head to toe.

He had command of her feet, and each dazzling step had driven her further into his spellbinding passionate aura.

He began moving her forward around the dance floor while synchronized twists and turns had caused her clothing, one by one, piece by piece, to fall unto the floor.

Each leg movement released her clothing from her ankles and feet until nothing was left to the imagination.

Her only possessions that remained were her black under garments, and high-heels in sexy contrast with her ivory skin-tone.

Her underwear, both top and bottom, had expressed her taste for sex appeal having displayed black polka dots, and lace, that had accented the sheer see-through material.

The lights had dimmed, and a misty haze had come about the dance floor, obscuring his view of Samitra, having left him with only his sense of touch and smell.

The music had come to a slow pace and he had warmly embraced her as he had pulled her to him breast to breast.

He had released her delicate hands and embraced her as he had circled his arms around her.

Her perfume had weakened his ability to control his behavior, emotions, and desires. He couldn't wait to obtain his reward. Her sweetness began to dissolve him into ecstasy.

"Oh Sami", he whispered into her ear. It feels good to hold you in my arms like this. I love the way you smell. I feel wonderful sensations; you infuse every cell of my body with your presence, and you make me feel so good."

"Sami, do you know what I need from you right now? I want you, NOW!"

The dance floor had a white, thick cloudy mist six inches high surrounding their feet.

Max took her arm raising it above her head and had spun her around catching her back with his arm, arching her backwards unto the dance floor.

As she had laid on her back, the only parts of her torso visible were her wish-boned thighs, knees and calves.

The slight silhouette of her face and nose could be seen above the misty cloud as she had looked up at Max towering over her, ready to submit to his whims.

To Be Continued In Parts.

Submitted by Sami 12/29/10

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