surprised face. I close my eyes and just wallow in this moment. She must be reaching for the chair’s lever, because suddenly I’m being lowered and reclined at the same time. I wonder how much one of these things cost. I sure wouldn’t mind having one of my own.
I guess I moan or do something encouraging (okay, I admit it, I may have accidentally put my hand on her ass) because she throws one leg over and sits on me cowgirl style. She just sits there a moment, looking at me. I guess it’s my move. I slip both my hands under her skirt and raise it up around her hips. She’s not wearing any panties and she’s a natural blonde.
Sonja raises up on her knees, stares straight into my eyes and has my belt and pants down around my thighs in no time flat. She strips off her shirt, pops a nipple in my mouth and rubs herself all over me.
Holy shit. This must be the works Paula was talking about.
Sonja takes my right hand and sticks my index finger in her mouth. She takes her time licking and sucking and cleaning each and every finger. When she’s done, she guides my hand to exactly where she wants it the most. I realize she was planning this before she walked in the door because Sonja the Cowgirl has been ready for a while.
She grabs my tits like they’re a saddlehorn and rides me like a broncobuster in a rodeo. It doesn’t take her long before she’s ready to come. I know this to be true because she tells me so. The whole thing has blindsided me in such a rush that I’m half surprised to find myself coming right along with her.
I shatter into about a thousand little pieces and barely have time to put the pieces back together before Sonja gets out of the saddle, inches her skirt back down and wrangles Donny and Marie back into her shirt. She leaves as quickly as she came. Pun intended.
Did that really just happen? Are all spas like this? Is Vivian doing the same thing right now?
I take my time pulling my pants up over my wobbly knees and washing my hands. I look in the mirror and think the same thing I always think when I first see my reflection: Help! I’m trapped in a body that doesn’t look anything like me. I reverse directions and try on a smile for size. A smile looks fake as all get-out. What’s wrong with me? I just got laid and most people would be happy, but all I feel is guilty. I wipe the smile off, sniff my hands and promise not to look in a mirror again that day.
I open the door and reenter the bright world of reality. As luck would have it, the first person I run into is Vivian. I feel like apologizing to her and I want to tell her it’s not really cheating on someone if you were actually thinking about them the whole time. I clench my teeth so that what I’m thinking stays inside my head where it belongs.
Vivian takes one look at me and staggers backward half a step. “You look great!” she exclaims. “Your skin...you’re absolutely glowing.”
“Thanks...” I say, reining in my thoughts with a forced smile.
“Where’s your girl?” Vivian asks. “I want her to do to me exactly what she did to you.”
“No, you don’t.” I grab Vivian by the elbow and lead her down the hallway as far away as quickly as I can.
I’ve given in to the swift current of Vivian’s glamor treatment and I float lazily down the river in my innertube trailing my fingers along in the water.
I jerk my fingers out of the cup of goo, Vivian’s laugh jerking me out of my reverie. Vivian and I sit side by side in front of twin Vietnamese manicurists. The only way you can tell these little women apart is that one talks constantly and the other never opens her mouth.
I have the one who talks constantly. And right now she’s examining my hands and nails and chirping in her strange little accent, “Big hand. Strong hand. Big like man.”
“Thanks,” I respond.
“Nail, bad. You no take care. Nail too short. Why short nail?”
I shrug. I don’t really care to get into all that with a perfect
I guess I moan or do something encouraging (okay, I admit it, I may have accidentally put my hand on her ass) because she throws one leg over and sits on me cowgirl style. She just sits there a moment, looking at me. I guess it’s my move. I slip both my hands under her skirt and raise it up around her hips. She’s not wearing any panties and she’s a natural blonde.
Sonja raises up on her knees, stares straight into my eyes and has my belt and pants down around my thighs in no time flat. She strips off her shirt, pops a nipple in my mouth and rubs herself all over me.
Holy shit. This must be the works Paula was talking about.
Sonja takes my right hand and sticks my index finger in her mouth. She takes her time licking and sucking and cleaning each and every finger. When she’s done, she guides my hand to exactly where she wants it the most. I realize she was planning this before she walked in the door because Sonja the Cowgirl has been ready for a while.
She grabs my tits like they’re a saddlehorn and rides me like a broncobuster in a rodeo. It doesn’t take her long before she’s ready to come. I know this to be true because she tells me so. The whole thing has blindsided me in such a rush that I’m half surprised to find myself coming right along with her.
I shatter into about a thousand little pieces and barely have time to put the pieces back together before Sonja gets out of the saddle, inches her skirt back down and wrangles Donny and Marie back into her shirt. She leaves as quickly as she came. Pun intended.
Did that really just happen? Are all spas like this? Is Vivian doing the same thing right now?
I take my time pulling my pants up over my wobbly knees and washing my hands. I look in the mirror and think the same thing I always think when I first see my reflection: Help! I’m trapped in a body that doesn’t look anything like me. I reverse directions and try on a smile for size. A smile looks fake as all get-out. What’s wrong with me? I just got laid and most people would be happy, but all I feel is guilty. I wipe the smile off, sniff my hands and promise not to look in a mirror again that day.
I open the door and reenter the bright world of reality. As luck would have it, the first person I run into is Vivian. I feel like apologizing to her and I want to tell her it’s not really cheating on someone if you were actually thinking about them the whole time. I clench my teeth so that what I’m thinking stays inside my head where it belongs.
Vivian takes one look at me and staggers backward half a step. “You look great!” she exclaims. “Your skin...you’re absolutely glowing.”
“Thanks...” I say, reining in my thoughts with a forced smile.
“Where’s your girl?” Vivian asks. “I want her to do to me exactly what she did to you.”
“No, you don’t.” I grab Vivian by the elbow and lead her down the hallway as far away as quickly as I can.
I’ve given in to the swift current of Vivian’s glamor treatment and I float lazily down the river in my innertube trailing my fingers along in the water.
I jerk my fingers out of the cup of goo, Vivian’s laugh jerking me out of my reverie. Vivian and I sit side by side in front of twin Vietnamese manicurists. The only way you can tell these little women apart is that one talks constantly and the other never opens her mouth.
I have the one who talks constantly. And right now she’s examining my hands and nails and chirping in her strange little accent, “Big hand. Strong hand. Big like man.”
“Thanks,” I respond.
“Nail, bad. You no take care. Nail too short. Why short nail?”
I shrug. I don’t really care to get into all that with a perfect
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