Jason worked as a masseur. Even after all this time, he still enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere of the spa, the soft music, the aroma of incense and oils. Most of all, he enjoyed the pleasure his touch could bring to another. He’d learned to play piano as a child and the act of touching another person’s body with his strong, nimble hands reminded him of playing a challenging piece. You played with a gentle touch here, a little pressure there, until your client became your instrument and her sighs and moans your symphony

Jason especially looked forward to Wednesday mornings. That was when Alexis Carter sought relief from muscles strained during her hard fought tennis matches. Tan and supple, he guessed her to be in her early thirties. She was a tall, dark haired beauty with high flaring cheek bones, wide-set brown eyes and long, muscular limbs. A self-assured and well-known real estate agent, she was divorced and had a reputation for running with a fast crowd.

Jason was standing at the counter when Alexis pulled up in her BMW convertible. He watched as she exited the car and strode across the parking lot. She wore a hot pink top and matching skirt that ended several inches above her knees. When she bent over to tie her shoe, Jason waited for the glint of pink panties underneath. Yes, there it was.

“He-ey,” Alexis sang out, stretching the word into two syllables. “It’s my favorite masseur.” Although she gave Jason her usual brilliant smile and peck on the cheek, her carefree demeanor seemed to mask some inner turmoil this morning. Perhaps the tone of her voice was a little flat, her kiss somewhat perfunctory. It was hard to say.

“Hi there,” Jason beamed in return. “Come on in.”

Jason had acquired Alexis as a referral from another client, Leslie, a compact blonde that reminded him of the high school cheerleaders he’d lusted after in high school. She and Alexis had met and become friends in an aerobics class while Alexis was going through her divorce.

“You’ve got to do this,” Leslie had gushed to Alexis at a neighborhood barbecue. “This man has the most amazing hands.”

Alexis had smiled wickedly. “Well, I look forward to finding out.”

(…)
Read the rest of The Masseur (2,747 words)


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