Welcome to the Darkroom:
In my circle of photographers, we don’t talk about cameras, or lenses, or even Photoshop.
We talk about life.
Photography is about witness.
It solves an ancient question about the human condition:
is any of this real?
Making pictures is the act of me seeing you…
….and then you seeing me see you
…and then me seeing you see me seeing you.
…and in this moment, answers rise up in the developer tray.
Each of these stories is a mix of fact and fantasy – but that’s not the point –
In a nod to my photography hero, Richard Avedon:
“All photographs are accurate. None of them is the truth”
“Sometimes I think my pictures, are all just pictures of me”.
Enjoy.
“Cuz, I have to tell you what happened last weekend.”
“Go on…”
“That guy I’ve been seeing, Steve – he took me to one of those all-inclusive, full service day spa places. He dropped me off, said, “Have an amazing time, I’ll pick you up later today.” It was one of those places that does facials, pedicures, manicures, skin treatments, acupuncture if you want, and 7 different kinds of massage. It was fucking incredible.”
“Okay…”
“So I go in. The place was so nice inside. It felt like stepping into a totally different world. As you are getting registered, they give you a robe, show you to your locker room, and they assign you your own personal massage therapist for the day. Mine was this really cute younger guy.”
“Okay, sounds amazing…”
“So we do all the things. I get this incredible pedicure. Not just my nails, but a total foot massage. Heaven. They did this hot rocks treatment. I got a Swedish style massage. Then Sauana for a while. Then I got a manicure. Then a facial. I passed up on the Thai style massage, I’ve heard that’s brutal. And then he gave me this full body salt scrub bath – where he scrubbed down every part of my body. I just laid there. It was AMAZING. My skin has never felt this smooth. And then, at the end, it was time for one more full body massage. He used this special oil blend that they only make there. I wish I could describe how it smelled, it was like a Eucalyptus plant, a coconut, and some roses all had a threesome.
“Damn.”
“So ANYWAY, He starts giving me this massage. I was already so relaxed, but this was just next level cuz. So there I am, just laying there naked on his table. I was just like, “Nah, forget the towel. I don’t care.” So he’s massaging my back. My arms. He massaged my HANDS. Cuz have you ever had a HAND massage?”
“Yeah, once, it’s shockingly amazing”
“SERIOUSLY. Okay, so after my hands, the massaged my feet again. Just incredible. And then my calves, my quads, and then he started massaging my hips.”
“Okay…”
“Ok cuz. I don’t quite know how this happened, but he just started massaging kind of, closer, inside my hips. Kind of right there at the top of my thighs. He asked, “Is this okay?” I said yes. He massaged a little closer, then asked, “Is this okay?’ I told him yes. And so he kept going, and pretty soon he was just ALMOST touching me cuz. Like…. SO close.”
“Damn…”
“And he said, ‘Is this okay?’ By now I was so horny cuz. Pretty soon he just barely touched me. He didn’t grab me or put his finger in me or anything, he just ran his finger over my lips, gently but deliberately, and said, “‘Is this okay?’
“Whoah….”
“And I just said, “Yes”. And he proceeded to get me off. I just laid there, opened my legs up, and let him.”
“Holy fuck cuz….”
“It was so hot. I just laid there, and he just made me cum. I didn’t have to do anything.”
“WOW. Wow.”
“I came so hard. I’ve never really had an orgasm like that in my whole life.”
“Jesus Christ cuz. That sounds incredible.”
“It totally was. And he was so nice about it. He just let me cum, and then after, he got me a towel, my robe, and a drink of cucumber ice water. I just got dried off, got dressed, and then Steve picked me up.”
“Holy fuck. Why do I find that so hot?”
“I don’t know cuz. It was fucking incredible. I told Steve about it and he just smiled and said, “I’m so glad you had a relaxing day, you deserve that.’. It was like he KNEW that was going to happen or something, but I don’t know how he’d know that. I don’t know. My mind is just blown.”
Early in my marriage, my ex wife and I told each other our deepest secrets. Our turn ons. Our fantasies. 2 months into marriage, we tried one of mine.
I came.
She cried…. in the bathroom.
Not because she was hurt, because she felt unseen. Total honesty became unbreathable atmosphere from that point forward.
Morgan loves cock.
I love that Morgan loves cock.
I love how much she loves MY cock.
I could listen to her say the word over and over. It was a confession.
Out loud.
Every time.
There was a hunger in her enunciation of the consonants.
“If we ever break up, can we please still get together for toxic sex? I just don’t know how I can ever live without your cock.”
I cannot imagine going without her appetite for my cock. The way she would drink me down, every last drop, like a dehydrated voyager finding water for the first time in 3 days.
Every.
Time.
Her thirst for my cock was intoxicating.
But it wasn’t just mine – she appreciated the art form of a fantastic cock.
Morgan loved David Bowie, and I’m not sure that it began with his music. I feel comfortable stating that it all began with his monstrous bulge in the movie Labyrinth. He’s got an armadillo in his trousers. It’s really quite frightening.
“Have you ever seen the Tommy Lee & Pam Anderson sex tape?”
“Have you seen the Paris Hilton sex tape?”
“Have you seen the Kim Kardashian sex tape?”
British people can say “fuck” and it sounds COMPLETELY different than an American saying it.
Morgan had a similar gift.
Every time she says “sex”, I am entranced. There was something cinematic, almost reverential about the way her tongue and breath would conspire to conjure the spell.
She was out of town a lot.
We relied heavily on phone calls, texting, and shared digital moments.
We watched them all.
I got horny during the Kim K tape.
“Do you like her pussy?”
Her lips enunciated the word with such delicacy.
“Pussy”.
There was something quietly erotic about the way she formed the word. In two syllables, she told anyone who was listening how she felt about her own.
She had this way of holding space for sexual energy that was safe. Understood. Human. Realistic. Charged.
“Yeah… I’m actually hard right now.”
“You should cum. I want to hear you…”
I let myself cum to Kim Kardashian’s sex tape while Morgan listened.
She touched herself and came with me.
“I wonder if Prince has a big cock…”
She liked Prince for his music.
She loved Prince for introducing her to sex before she knew how to say the word in public.
“Have you ever heard the song, “Darling Nikki?”
She regaled me with the story of his song about a sex fiend as often as my elderly mother regaled me of stories of her high school years.
“Have you ever heard Lana Del Rey’s song, “Pepsi cola?”
“My pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola…”
Another horny old lady moment.
I wasn’t mad about talking about pussy tasting sweet for the 2nd or 7th or 31st time.
Yes babe, let’s discuss this more.
When she gets ready in the morning, she says naked most of the time.
Bare skin and high heels.
She gets a little turned on just by admiring her breasts and pussy in the mirror as she does her hair.
She wasn’t squeamish about porn or the realities of being a sexual being in a sexually hungry world. We shared everything.
When we made love, it was vanilla from the outside, but on the inside, our witness of one another’s true sexual nature made it transcendent.
“My cousin Stephanie told me about something she did the other day…”
I regaled Morgan with her tale of the magical day spa where, apparently, anything is possible.
“Wow…. That’s sexy”, Morgan confided.
“I don’t know what it is, but I love the idea of dropping my woman off to a day spa just like that, and telling her to just let it all happen, to fully enjoy herself, no rules, no strings attached.”
I listened carefully to what came next.
“That sounds amazing. I’d love to do that some time”
Morgan entered in the first nuclear code.
Tonight, we began our ascent.
The air felt fine.
The view was exhilarating.
I found myself thinking fantasizing about happy ending massages.
A lot.
Not for me, necessarily.
For her.
My friend Rob was a connoisseur of happy ending massages.
“There’s this place about 2 miles west of the Central Towne Mall. The girl there is amazing. She really makes you feel like she’s into it”.
I never found it compelling to pay someone to do something that I do for myself for free.
A few years ago I dated a girl whose ex husband was addicted to happy ending massages. They aren’t even the reason they split up.
“Yeah, I know he gets them a few times per week and whenever he’s traveling.” She acted like she was talking about a fly that would not quit landing on the hot dogs at the BBQ.
“What? How dare he? Doesn’t that hurt you?”
She would slather the dog in mustard and pair it with a cold Corona and shrug.
One night, a few Coronas in, I told Morgan about my conversation with Rob.
“Well maybe you should go get one!” She chuckled.
“It sounds like you know where to go.”
“Wouldn’t that bother you?”
“As long as you don’t have sex with her, it’s fine. As long as it doesn’t become a weekly thing, or get in the way of OUR sex life, you know?
But if you are traveling, and we aren’t going to see each other for a week or two, yeah. You totally should.”
In an instant, getting a happy ending massage felt like the second hottest thing in the world, next to actually making love to Morgan.
It’s one thing to pay a stranger $100 to put on rubber gloves and jerk me off. It’s certainly the best time you can have with a practitioner who has to wear rubber gloves.
Letting another woman stroke me, through the lens of Morgan’s blessing? Through the idea of her waiting, wet, to hear about it?
Fucking intoxicating.
“We talked about that day spa thing a while ago, do you still like that idea?”
“Yeah! That sounds fun. I’d totally do it.”
“What if it was a woman taking care of you that day?”
“I’d let it happen.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… massages always make me horny.”
“I love that”, I reassured her.
I got hard.
“…but if I could choose, I’d like to have a guy, and not just anyone. A guy I’d actually choose.”
I got very hard.
“Yeah, that makes sense. That would be really hot”
“Mmm… yeah it would.” Morgan purred.
“Well let’s make it happen some time”, I postulated.
“I’m down. I just don’t know how to find a place like that. Maybe ask your cousin?”
I got so hard my cock nearly fell off.
“Yeah, for sure. I’ll figure it out.” My voice quivered from the extreme arousal.
She let out one of those womanly sounds that’s not a word, it can’t be spelled… it’s a vibration that transcends time, space, and sound.
Morgan was out of town for work.
A Thursday through Monday kind of affair.
She booked a room in her favorite boutique hotel – high thread counts, high ceilings, high prices. The kind of place where you make sure to wear something sexy even if you are going down the hall to retrieve some ice.
Her client meetings were canceled a matter of minutes after her plane touched down.
“I can’t decide what to do” she began unpacking the situation on a phone call.
“I’ve got this amazing room. There is an incredible roof top bar here. They’ve got a great steakhouse on the property and there are a few other amazing restaurants close by. And this is all on the company dime. It would actually cost the company MORE if I change my flight and come home early.”
“Well then. I believe the answer is clear!”
“And I brought a really cute dress that I could wear one night up at the rooftop bar.”
Of course, this means she’s going to be swarmed with horny, rich businessmen.
It’s fine.
She’ll love it.
“Babe. You absolutely should stay. Enjoy the break from the home routine.”
“But I know you leave for a few weeks for work, too, on Sunday, and we won’t see each other for a long time if I stay.”
“I know, but it’s fine. I love the idea of you just being able to decompress and enjoy yourself for an extra long weekend.”
“Are you sure? You won’t be mad if I don’t come home early?”
“Look, I miss you like crazy, our schedules have been ridiculous, but I’m okay. I want you to enjoy some down time. You deserve it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, absolutely. Go put on your dress tonight. Go hang out on the roof. Have a glass of wine for me.. Send me a photo. I want to see you in your dress.”
“You are the best, okay baby… I love you.”
I immediately shifted into execution mode. I knew exactly how to make her weekend truly special.
I found a mobile massage therapist service -an agency of sorts. You could choose your therapist. I looked through their roster and found a guy who looked something in between her Youtube celebrity crush, her last boyfriend, and me.
“Sebastian”.
Perfect.
I sent him a very carefully worded message, calculated to cast a clear vision and to remove any implied or assumed boundaries.
“This massage is a gift for an old friend. She’s celebrating a major personal milestone, I wanted to treat her to something special. She’s a gorgeous 48 year old woman with a beautiful body. She’s not shy at all. She is comfortable with, and would love, to be touched all over. Nothing is off limits. I just want you to make sure she feels absolutely amazing.”
His response:
Understood. 😉
I felt confident that I just solicited sex work without soliciting sex work.
My accomplice was in place.
That night I shared my plan with her:
“I know you’ve had a hard week. I’m sending a massage therapist to your room tomorrow. Sebastian be there at 2pm.”
“Oh my god, really? You are so sweet.”
He offers all kinds of massages, all kinds of approaches. He can even give you a “pectoral massage”.
“You mean I can get my boobs massaged?” She dared.
“Um, yeah. You absolutely can”
“Wow, that would feel so good. That sounds amazing”
“You can get your everything massaged.
I got you a longer session. 90 minutes. I don’t want you to feel like you are in a hurry so you can truly relax and fully enjoy yourself.”
“WOW. Seriously? That sounds so amazing.”
“I want you to FULLY enjoy yourself tomorrow. No limits. I picked someone out that I think you will like. When I booked him, I let him know that he should help you cum. I already gave him an extra big tip ahead of time.”
She began purring. “Oh really? How did you do that?”
“I just took care of it. Don’t worry about any of that. I just want you to feel amazing tomorrow. Whatever that turns into. Whatever that looks like. Just let yourself cum.”
“Wow…. I’m so excited…”
My voice began trembling slightly with arousal. “Yeah… me too. I love the idea of you just laying back and letting him make you feel amazing.”
“That’s so sweet of you”
“I love that we get to finally do this”
“Me too. I love you so much.”
“What do you think you’ll wear when he comes up tomorrow?”
“Just a robe…”
My head buzzed with arousal.
“…I’ll let it hang open. I won’t be shy.”
“I’ve been watching this video recently of a woman getting a happy ending massage. She reminds me so much of you.”
“Oh really? Can I see it? Can we watch it together?”
We watched the video. Remotely, but together, we touched ourselves, our hands proxies for one another. We came together as the girl on the screen experienced her climax at the hands of her masseuse.
“I bet you wish you could be a fly on the wall tomorrow and just watch, huh?”, still purring.
“Oh my god, yes”, I choked on my own spit.
“You are such a naughty boy. I love it.”
I blushed.
“I have an idea. What if I set up my camera on the nightstand and record it so you can watch it later?”
My heart began beating irregularly.
“Fuck…. Yes…. That would be incredible. Would you do that?”
“Of course I would. It might even make it hotter knowing that you are going to watch it later and jerk off to it.”
I tried to remember those three numbers that you are supposed to call when your heart does weird heart things.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck…. You are amazing babe. Tomorrow is going to be unbelievably hot. I love you so much.”
“I love you. I miss you. I can’t wait for tomorrow, you are absolutely the best boyfriend ever.”
It’s the morning of massage day.
I call the hotel and order a bottle of OUR wine (some couples have a song ,we have a wine) to her room along with a slice of tiramisu. I dictate a note to be included with the room service.
I want her to feel indulgent.
I request for room service to bring an extra set of sheet, 6 fresh towels, and a plush cotton robe.
I want her to feel prepared.
I send her a text: Sebastian just confirmed, he’ll be there at 2pm this afternoon. I want you to fully experience this, whatever makes you feel good – do it. I hope you have the most amazing orgasm. I can’t wait to hear about it. I love you.”
I want her to feel like a goddess.
“I just got the wine and tiramisu and note; you are so sweet. I love you.” Her text carries the vibe. “I’ll call you after we are done”.
One hour before, Sebastian messages me:
“Just want you to know I’m on my way. I should be arriving at the hotel around 1:50”
I feel a surge.
1:45pm Sebastian: “I just got parked, I’m headed to the lobby.”
1:53 pm Sebastian: “In the lobby now. They just gave me directions. Getting on the elevator now.”
“Sebastian will be there in just a moment, he’s on the elevator now.”
She hearts the message
I imagine her, freshly showered, her hair perfect, her makeup perfectly done (she would have it no other way). I picture her in her plush cotton robe, it dangling open, her décolletage perfectly framed by the soft white fibers, her anxious nipples just barely hiding behind the robe, her delicious flesh, front, centered, and framed by the robe.
I imagine that he’s imagining what she looks like. He understands what might happen today. “Is she hot? Is she gross?”, he must be wondering, hoping that she is the former.
I wonder what he’s wearing, if it’s thin and light enough that she’ll be able to detect his erection as he sees all of her and begins working on her.
I hope he has a big, glorious cock that she can’t stop looking at through his pants.
In my mind’s eye, he knocks on her door.
She comes to the door, opens it not too wide – she is basically naked, after all.
She smiles big. She gives him a warm welcome.
She makes eye contact with him that hangs on for a while. She closes the door.
2:01 PM: She locks the door.
Her body is tingling with anticipation.
She offers him a glass of wine, he accepts.
Her robe opens further.
One of her breasts fully emerges.
Her nipple is erect.
She hands him the glass of wine.
A wide, flirtatious smile emerges on her lips as she catches him looking at her breast while he accepts the glass.
She looks down to see if there are any hints of his size.
She always sizes up men upon first meeting, professional, romantic, whatever.
He feels a surge of warmth in his groin as he sets up his portable table.
She walks over to the night stand with her phone in hand.
In the few steps it takes, her robe flows wide open. She can feel even the slightest movement of air on her body.
“I can’t wait to take this off and get on his table”, she privately confesses.
She fusses with a few settings on her iPhone, and props it up, camera facing the massage table.
She presses RECORD.
“I can’t wait to give him a little show”. She imagines watching me masturbate to the video later tonight.
She takes one more bite of tiramisu. She opens her mouth wide as she licks the mascarpone from her lips, deliberately flirting with the idea of sucking Sebastian’s cock… if it goes that far. She hopes it does.
It’s been too long, and she’s been given more than a “hall pass – she’s been given a blessing. She gets wet at the thought.
He directs her onto his massage table.
She loves the first reveal, especially with a new guy.
It always makes her wet to watch a man’s eyes as he takes off her bra.
She never wears panties, because, why? Why would you want to bury such a gift under layers of unnecessary cloth?
The robe slides slowly off of her shoulders and onto the floor. “I won’t be needing that again”.
She pulls her long, flowing brown hair up with both hands, lifting her full, round breasts, hoping he admires them, hoping he gets turned on before he even touches her.
As she climbs onto his table, he presents a small white towel, barely big enough to cover an average person’s torso.
“Would you like a…”
She interrupts him. “No thanks. I don’t need it.”
She smiles and settles into position, placing her face into the face rest, visually oblivious to whatever he is doing.
He squirts massage oil into his hands and warms it up, then lets it pour onto her spine.
He rubs the oil into her shoulder blades.
He’s in love with the texture of her skin.
She lets out a deep exhale. “It’s actually happening”, she telepaths to me through time and distance. “I love you.”
His hands work her shoulders.
Her biceps.
Her forearms.
Her hands.
Her feet … her other favorite erogenous zone.
2: 31 PM: I get up from the kitchen counter to refill my ice and get another splash of whisky. The unmistakable coolness of a big, wet spot of pre-cum on my thigh reminds me that we are having a great time.
As he massages her feet, he looks up toward her body. His eyes trace up and down her shapely legs. He studies the contour of her hips, her ass.
He peers.
He wants to see more of her, but she is still concealed.
He takes her other foot in his hands.
“That feels so good”, she purrs, her voice slightly muffled from being in the face rest.
“I’m glad you like it. You have beautiful feet.”
He gently takes command of her right leg via her right foot. They subconsciously agree that her leg should shift slightly. She opens her legs ever so slightly and shifts her hips.
For a moment, he glimpses the view she intended to give him.
Sebastian catches his breath.
His cock grows full.
“I wish you could massage my feet all day”, she mumbles to him in a dream like state.
“I think you’ll like this next part”, he says.
“I’m going to use a light tea tree oil conditioner on my hands as I work your scalp”
The bulge in his thin white pants reveals his robust, mushroom shaped head.
He massages her scalp in the way we all wish our hair stylists would, but they continually fall short of.
He steps away for a moment to take a drink of water.
As he returns to continue working on her scalp, she lifts her head up from the face rest to look around and reorient.
His bulge is inches from her lips.
Her mind runs wild. “I wonder what he looks like, it looks like he has a nice cock”, she quietly imagines. “I wonder what he tastes like”.
Sebastian feels her breath on his awakened cock.
He begins massaging her calves.
She’s feeling soothed.
He can tell.
He moves to the back of her thighs.
He feels her energy rise.
“Mmmm…. “ she purrs with approval.
His hands move to her upper thighs. Her muscles surrender to his assertive touch.
He can tell she’s enjoying this.
It’s an energy thing.
A massage therapist thing.
“That feels so good….” She muses.
She squirms on the table.
“Good”. He confirms.
His hands move further up her thighs, just beneath her ass.
She raises her hips slightly in a gesture of approval.
He gets another brief glimpse of her most sensitive spots.
He salivates.
Swallows.
His hands move to the region that is disputed territory – is it thigh? Is it ass?
In a move that can only be described as coordinated, he grabbed majority portions of her ass with his gently commanding hands.
She rotated her hips upward to present herself, again.
His cock aches.
He takes a long, deep breath.
Her face remains buried downward in the face rest.
Her fingers stretch, and then clench.
She lifts and opens her hips slightly.
Her bare pussy comes more into view.
She is buzzing.
“I wish I could see what he looks like right now”
“I hope the camera is catching this”
“I hope he just does it soon”
She rattles off inner confessions.
He replenishes his hands with more oil.
He looks at her ass, her pussy, her arched back.
His hands wander to the interior of her ass.
He pays close attention to her movements. Her energy.
Her words.
“Mmm….”
Her hips loosen more.
He massages her muscles groups as close to her femininity as possible, without actually touching. Her body relaxes more.
Her pussy fully presented.
He can’t tell if the glisten is from his oil, or if it is her own.
He continues to slowly work her flesh.
He calculates the landing of one finger tip slightly grazing one of her lips.
She remains relaxed.
On the next stroke, he lets the fleshy pad of his thumb deliberately caress her outer lip.
He pays close attention to her body:
she remains fluid and relaxed.
Her hips answer the question he’s about to ask:
“Is this okay?”
“Yes”, she says, warmly.
He repeats the motion, giving her outer lips another stroke with both hands.
Slowly, intentionally.
“Is this…”
“Mmmm…. She interrupts.
…okay?”
“Yes. That feels good.” She affirms.
“Good”.
2:47 PM: I reach down and touch my hard cock through my shorts. I haven’t been hard like this in a long time. I caress it through two layers of fabric.
He begins stroking her slowly.
Deliberately.
“Is this okay?”
“Yesss….” She whispers.
He relaxes into the moment.
A finger slides in between her lips and grazes her opening.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes”
On the next stroke, his finger gently enters her.
She inhales deeply.
His cock is raging.
Her body relaxes even more. Her hips ascend, opening as much as they can.
He exhales.
He reaches down and caresses his cock through one thin layer of white linen.
“I want you to turn over now”.
She slowly yet excitedly turns over, laying the crown of her head into the face rest.
“Finally…” she privately exudes.
Sebastian clears his throat.
“Um. What would you like me to work on next?”
“Whatever… “
She’s at a loss for words.
“…. you want.”
“You are the professional” she grins.
“I wonder if the camera…”
He gathers more oil into his hands.
He massages her feet. Again.
“Thank God” she utters the blessing on her lips but he can’t quite hear it.
Her body hums with electricity.
“He’s seen everything by now…”
She grants herself permission to grant him even more.
As he caresses the arches of her feet, her nipples tingle.
She reaches up and caresses her breasts.
She arches her back slightly.
Her knees come further apart without any thought.
She wants him to see her.
All of her.
The right way.
Her left hand leaves her breast and travels down. She caresses her pussy for a moment.
She looks down to see if he’s watching.
He is.
He smiles back at her.
She pulls her feet toward her.
She opens her legs more decisively.
She touches herself again, her fingers almost opening herself, but only flirting with the idea.
“Mmmm…..” She publicly admits her pleasure.
She wants him to look…. For a long time.
He does.
“My chest has been really sore lately”, she playfully instructs him.
He gathers more oil.
He stands at her waist.
He cups her breasts from underneath and slowly covers them in oil from his hands.
He massages her nipples.
They are hard. They tell her whole story.
Her neck curls back.
He kneads her breasts from every direction.
She purrs.
He traces the contour of her round, full breasts with the tip of his finger.
He applies more oil, then circles her nipples with his finger.
She touches her pussy with her right hand.
One finger goes in for a brief moment while he’s not looking.
Sebastian’s cock is at full throttle, cruelly confined in his thin white linen pants.
It rubs against her forearm as he massages her “pecs”.
The heat and hardness makes her feel dizzy for a moment.
She surrenders to her girl-autopilot.
She takes his hand and draws it down to her pussy, silently telling him that “this is okay.”
Her hand gives his a brief, 4 second tutorial, on how to stroke her.
“My God…” she mumbles, barely legible in the echoes of her own mind.
“He’s going to love this….”
She’s not even sure which “he” she’s referring to at this point.
“I fucking need this…”
With her free hand, she reaches over and touches the bulge in his white pants.
She traces it with the tips of her fingernails. She studies his mushroom head with the tips of her fingers.
She bites her lip.
His head tosses back.
He inhales deeply.
She caresses it through the single layer of thin white fabric.
He strokes her pussy unapologetically with one hand.
His other hand caresses her erect nipples.
She pulls at the top of his pants.
She’s dying to know what he’s really like.
His cock escapes the confines of his pants.
“Oh my god… “ she whispers out loud.
He is magnificent.
His strong cock stands at attention.
His head glistening with pre-cum.
His head is even more mushroom like than she expected.
He is bare, too.
Clean.
Simple.
Commanding.
Her lips tingle, begging to know what the edges of his head would feel like, passing through, into her mouth.
She admires the strength of his cock.
She licks the underside.
“Holy shit, I haven’t done this in so long….” She savors the uniquely masculine taste of his flesh.
His hands continue to caress and explore every part of her.
She raises her head up higher, adjusting her posture slightly.
She grasps his stately cock by the base, and pulls his generous head toward her lips.
She licks the tip, tasting his pre-cum.
2:59 PM: My heart races.
“She needs this.”
“She would want this for me.”
I open a bag of chips and a jar of queso.
“Mmm….” She moans briefly, approving his flavor. She tastes him from every possible direction.
Her lips wrap around his head.
“Fuck….”
She misses the taste and the power of a hard cock in her mouth.
He continues to massage her pussy and one of her breasts.
His finger sinks into her.
Her back arches.
Her toes spasm.
Her head thrashes.
His cock comes out of her mouth.
She convulses slightly.
They hold still.
She opens her eyes.
“I want you to fuck me”.
What is understood, needn’t be discussed.
He relocates to the end of the table.
She scoots herself toward the end, her ass at the edge of the table.
3:09 PM: I realize I’m going through whisky quickly. I crack a beer. Hydration is key to high performance. I look at pictures of her. My heart swells. She’s so goddamn beautiful.
His thin white pants drop to the floor.
She places her ankles on his hips.
She nods.
He nods.
He touches the tip of his cock to her pussy.
She moans louder than she realizes.
“It hasn’t even happened yet” she checks herself.
She writhes slightly
She wraps her ankles completely around his waist.
She begins slowly pulling him into her.
“Oh my god….” She moans lightly.
She breathes in deeply… and pulls his hips into hers.
3:19 PM: I am dying. My cock has been hard for so long, it’s beginning to ache. My balls ache. I debate whether or not I should just give myself some relief before she calls.
She gets off the table. She wraps herself in a towel. She takes a drink of water.
He puts his thin white pants back on.
He begins disassembling the table.
He collects his oils and replaces them into his bag.
She takes a sip of wine.
3:23 PM: No… I’m going to save it for her. I know she’s going to call soon. She has a video to share. Future me will be thankful that present me held off for a while. I want to fully experience her story and her video. I’ll fucking explode.
“Wow… “ She breaks the silence.
“That was incredible. I… just… don’t know what to say….”
“YOU are incredible.” He confirms, looking up for a moment while he packs up his kit.
“Really, though, thank you… I needed that.”
She blushes.
“I know.”
She gives him a one armed hug and a slight kiss on the cheek.
He carries his portable massage table out the door.
3:30 PM: She closes the door and locks it.
3:31 pm: He should be gone by now. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP The microwave reminds me that it finished warming pizza 4 minutes ago.
3:32 pm “She should be calling me at any minute.”
3:33 pm: nothing
3:34 pm: nothing
3:35 pm: nothing
3:36 pm: nothing
3:37 pm: nothing
3:38 pm: nothing Telemarketer calls. HOW DARE YOU BOTHER ME IN THIS MOMENT?
3:39 pm: nothing
3:40 pm: nothing Seriously?
3:41 pm: nothing
3:42 pm: nothing.
3:43 pm: nothing Should I call her? I don’t want to sound needy.
3:44 pm: nothing
3:45 pm: nothing. Is she…. Doing it? Is she fucking him?
3:46 pm: nothing Is she sucking his dick?
3:47 pm: nothing He FOR SURE wanted to fuck her. How could he not?? She’s exquisite.
3:48 pm: nothing
3:49 pm: nothing is she sucking his cock right now? Giving him a proper tip?
3:50 pm: nothing I already tipped him. She knows this.
3:51 pm: nothing I hope she is.
3:52 pm: nothing It would be the polite thing to do.
3:53 pm: nothing I wonder how big his dick is.
3:54 pm: nothing I hope it’s not bigger than mine.
3:55 pm: nothing I hope it’s small but she takes good care of him and that it makes her miss mine.
3:56 pm: nothing
3:57 pm: nothing What have I done….
3:58 pm: nothing. As long as they don’t exchange information, I don’t care…
3:59 pm: nothing I wonder if she let him cum in her…
4:00 pm: nothing I bet he LOVED it.
4:01 pm: nothing I miss having sex with her. Fuck.
4:02 pm: nothing
4:03 pm: nothing
4:04 pm: nothing GOOD LORD DUDE MY GIRLFRIEND NEEDS TO CALL ME WRAP IT UP.
4:05 pm: nothing I hope she came super hard. She needs that in her life.
4:06 pm: nothing I really hope she didn’t.
4:07 pm: nothing I should call her.
4:08 pm: nothing This is insane. She knows I’m sitting here waiting, stewing.
4:09 pm: nothing She’s for sure fucking him.
4:10 pm: nothing Should I interrupt them? FUCK YES I SHOULD.
4:11 pm: nothing I am such an idiot.
4:12 pm: nothing I want to crawl out of my skin. My pizza is cold again.
4:13 pm: nothing. I wonder if he’s murdering her right now. Fuck. We are all gonna be on Unsolved Mysteries.
4:14 pm: nothing I should definitely call. If she’s not safe, this is negligence.
4:15 pm: nothing
4:16 pm: nothing The spot on my shorts is dry.
4:17 pm: …… she calls.
“Babe, that was so amazing, thank you, you are the sweetest.”
“I’m so glad you liked it!”
“Sebastian was wonderful. That felt so good. I needed it. You picked the perfect person for me. And the wine? And the Tiramisu? The robe and the towels and everything? You are so thoughtful.”
Something is off.
I am speaking to Morgan’s HR department.
“So, I have some bad news…”
My guts rearrange themselves.
I take another sip of medicine.
“Oh?”
I try to act nonchalant.
“Two things, actually”
I clinch.
“What’s that?” I ask in my best Mr Rogers voice.
“I hope you won’t be disappointed…”
Fuck.
I am at the top of the first drop in a horrifying roller coaster, realizing that my lap restraint just came loose.
“Hey, I told you before, whatever happens, is for you. Whatever you want…”
“Okay, the first thing… The massage was SO good, it was so relaxing, it even made me feel horny, but when he started touching right up next to my pussy, I froze.
I didn’t know what to do.
So, I didn’t do anything.
I didn’t know how to ask for it, and honestly, we’ve both been traveling so much, and we haven’t had sex in so long, I just wanted to wait for you… so… nothing happened.
He just gave me a really nice massage.
I know you were hoping for more…”
“OH, no, no, no, I’m not disappointed, I just wanted you to have a relaxing time. Whatever that looked like, and if that’s what it looked like for you, that’s GREAT!”
I lie to her.
“I’m so curious, did he get hard?
You are just so sexy…”
“Oh, no, I never even noticed.”
“And the second thing… I set up my phone to record, but the battery died. I didn’t get anything.”
A strange flush fell over me.
“Oh, that’s okay babe. I’m just glad you had a good time.”
“You really are so thoughtful, that was amazing, I’ve never had anyone send me something like that. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’m going to go shower and get all this oil off of me.”
We end the call.
I pour what’s left of the bottle into my glass.
One lone, deformed ice cub remains.
I clink it around in my glass.
Muttering out loud –
“I hope she’s lying.”
**** the end ****