One fifty-five. It was almost time. Just as I began to light the soy candles in quiet expectation, one of the ladies called from the front . . . . . . .
“Quinton, your two o’clock is here!”
I was uneasy and exhilarated at the same time. I could feel my stomach starting to do flips while my heart was doing jumping jacks! I needed to regain my composure.
“She’s just a client. . . . . She’s just a client . . .”
I took several deep breaths and began to make my trek to the front. I still couldn’t figure out why I was feeling this way. It wasn’t like I hadn’t worked with celebrities and models at the spa before. It wasn’t uncommon for me to touch beautiful women on a daily basis. However, there was something about Miss Tiffani Green that would not leave me alone. Whether it was her peanut brown complexion or the way she carried her curvy frame, I was hooked!
Ms. Green made it hard for me to be professional. Very hard. Each session led to me touching more of her. At first, she was happy with me being gentle and delicate. As the days grew on, she wanted all of my strength implanted in her muscles. She paid for more of my time as a tune up was simply not enough anymore.
During our last encounter, I couldn’t help but notice that she was wearing a thong instead of her normal panties or bikini bottoms. I tried not to let my mind wander, but the more my hands soaked into her skin, the more vocal she started to become. When I began to massage her inner thigh, she gave a low, almost inaudible moan. It was that quiet, subtle, groan that would drive any man crazy! The deeper I went into the tissue, the louder the sound became. I could hear her gasping for air at times as I got near her treasure. My hormones were cheering me on to touch her there, allowing her to relax in a more natural way. . . . but I wasn’t trying to lose my license or my life misinterpreting her signals. It was that fact that kept me from exploring my fantasy. That and the tattoo that ran across her chest . . . . . .
“Ms. Green, I’m ready for you”
Tiffani smiled as she rose from her seat.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week! Whew! It’s been a week!”
I nodded with a smile and proceeded back to my lab with my temptress following close behind. Today, Tiffani was dressed in a casual black and pink jumpsuit which made life easier for me. I wasn’t left to imagine how she looked taking off one of her many “too small” tops or “shorter than short” skirts. I smiled to myself as I showed her the door to where she could get undressed.
“I think you know the drill by now. You can get undressed while I gather the rest of my materials for today’s session. Towels are in their normal place”
I stepped away and gathered my stones and towels. I began to prepare myself mentally for the session. I knocked on the door to let her know I was coming in. When I entered the room, Ms. Green was lying face down on the table, backside up, with no clothes or towels on!
“Ummmm, Ms. Green, you forgot your towels . . . .”
“Oh I’m sorry! The lady up front didn’t tell you? I signed up for the total deep tissue massage. That one gets my booty and stomach right?”
“That’s. . . . . that’s right Ms. Green. But I still like to have the towel to cover areas of your body that I’m not working on. Plus, I don’t want to have you all exposed”
“I understand. I guess I was so anxious that I didn’t think about it like that. It’s been one hell of a week! And please, call me Tiffani. You make me sound like an old woman!”
I stared at her treasure and I pictured myself tasting the inside, trying to uncover her secrets. I could feel myself rising as my mind began to wander. I had to get back on track. I turned on the spa music and draped a towel over her rather succulent backside.
¨So what made this a long week for you?¨
“You don’t wanna listen to me, do you? I’m supposed to be quiet and floating to my happy place while you work your magic¨
“It’s cool! You’re a regular here so it won’t hurt if we go over a few minutes. Besides, maybe I can help come up with a solution?¨
“If you insist!”
“That I do”
“Well, I’ve been working at this agency that provides senior care services for two months now. For some reason, I have the pleasure of assigning these CNAs homes to work in. How ’bout every time I assign a case, half of these heifers quit after the first day!”
¨Really? After the first day? What kind of excuses are they giving?
“Shit, all kinds! I had one quit yesterday saying that the location was “too far for a couple of hours work!” The funny part was that the homely bitch only lived ten minutes away!”
“Yeah! Another one tried to hustle me for more money because she said her daycare costs were going to increase! Then there was this trifling skank who wouldn’t return any of my texts or phone calls regarding a case! Now I’m still waiting on a phone call from another staff who was supposed to call me back yesterday!”
“So you’re waiting on a phone call on a Saturday?”
“Yes! This shit shouldn’t be so hard!”
“Wow! That is a lot to deal with! So what do these CNAs do?
“Well, they provide services for our clients who live on their own, but need assistance with the day to day like bathing, getting dressed, and what not. But these bitches here?! They are getting on my nerves! It takes everything in my power not to slap one of ’em! I promised my fiance that I would try to make this work”
“So are you guys new to town or something?”
“I don’t know if I would say new. We moved here after I had the baby. That’s been over a year now. My fiance works with the Black banks here and in Athens”
“So your fiance is a banker? That’s good money!”
“Not to tell all our business, but they pay him well. Well enough for me to have a spa day every other Saturday!”
I slowly took her foot in my hands and began to alleviate the stress.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you working? You have a baby at home right?¨
“You sound just like Christian! It was never my intention to be a housewife! It’s important to me that I make my own money and not depend on anyone else. You never know what might happened with the old Orange man in office!”
“Well that’s true. I see your point”
I began to move up her left leg, massaging her calf muscle. I could feel the strain that life was putting on her.
“Oh my! I love your hands Quinton. You have a way of taking all the stress away! Now you understand why I have to come in here almost every week”
“That I do. It seems that you have a rather taxing job. But don’t worry, the stress will be gone before you know it”
I grabbed one of the candles from the stand and began to pour the hot liquid over my hand, slowly massaging it into her calf and thigh.
“Ohhhh Quinton, this smells and feels so good! What’s in it?”
“It’s just some coconut oil, cocoa, shea butter, sunflower oil, and some other fragrances I mixed together. Do you like it?”
“Yes. This is wonderful!”
I uncovered one side of her cheek as I began to massage her glutes. She was definitely a beauty to behold. As my hands got deeper into her muscle, my imagination began to get the best of me. I lost track of what I was doing and was beginning to pour wax in the forbidden forest. Before it could burn anything, the back of my hand intercepted the heat. Unfortunately, I caught another form of heat on the other side of my hand! I tried to pretend that I didn’t feel her wetness all over my fingers. As a matter of fact, I wiped my hand on a towel and proceeded to her right leg as if nothing had happened. But Tiffani wasn’t letting it go . . . . .
“Please Quinton . . . .”
I pretended as if I didn’t hear her and continued my therapy. But she persisted.
“Quinton please, touch me again. I need to be touched again”
I wanted to say no. I needed to say no. But my hand was already there, playing in her tulips. I listened to her as I played her softly like a Prince song. She was my instrument as I navigated her strings, making her wail to my frequency. She was definitely overdue. Then I took my tongue and placed it in her valley until she couldn’t take anymore . . . . . .
“Ohhhhhhhh . . . .ohhhhhhhhhh!”
I withdrew my face as her convulsions shook the table out of place. I could hear her trying to muffle her scream. After a few moments passed, she turned her body over, giving me a full view of God’s goodness. It also gave me a full view of her tattoo which read “Christian’s Cookie”. I guess she caught me reading it because her next words were . . . .
“Don’t worry about Christian. He don’t want me no more. He hasn’t even touched me since the baby was born”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I think I went a little too far this afternoon. It’s one thing to think about it. It’s another to . . .”
“You’ve been thinking about me?”
“Well yes . . . but you’re . .”
“I’m not married! If I’m not married, I can be had. And right now, I want you to have me”
Written by The Wednesday GentlemanAdvertisements