"What happens if I get an erection?" I pondered, as a lithe young woman in a mini skirt led us upstairs.
"Just think of your mother" warned Isabelle. This particular fear proved groundless even as the masseuse straddled my bare back, the pummelling and thwacking caused Isabelle, who was spectating, to remark; "Crikey your back's as red as a beetroot".
That was only a prelude to the climax of being repeatedly walked on. A final twisting and wrenching and I was free to go. The fear of dislocation together with the shear heat of friction had successfully kept any potential eroticism at bay.
The consensus from 'K', Isabelles sister, was that it could all still be a front for prostitution. This opinion was based on the uncommon levels of eye make up alone...
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2 comments:
Aaaahhh, the massage. There's nothing like a 6 stone lady walking up and down your back.
I'm not sure how you contained yourself - I get aroused even by going to the dentist.
Are you a pain lover then?
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