“Yes, but do you know what kind of a dancer I am?” I asked, mildly shocked at how flirtatious I had become so soon.

“Ah well…now that’s a little more difficult,” he replied.

Touch between my legs, I willed. Feel how smooth my waxed pussy lips are, how expertly trimmed my little bush is. Smell behind my ear and you will smell sex. I strip myself naked for money. Sometimes I allow myself to be taken… sometimes I give myself willingly. Test me and you will know exactly what I do and what I can do, just for you.

“Whatever your style is I am sure you are very good at it. Your body is beautifully developed, but I am glad you came to see me before you pulled a muscle. I’ll get you nice and relaxed and you will feel like a new woman in no time.”

I liked the idea of feeling like a new woman, but I really wanted to feel a new man…this new man to be precise and I wanted to feel him in so many very naughty ways.

I lay there and listened as he poured massage oil between his palms, rubbing them together creating a delicious, slippery wet, squelching sound. The oil smelled wonderful and I swear I relaxed a little from the aroma alone. I could sense grapefruit and sandalwood, but there was more, something indefinable, but wonderfully calming. To this day, whatever that aroma was, whenever I sense the merest hint of it, my mind will be transported back to Michael and I will smile.

As he pressed the heels of his palms against my upper back and slid his hands upwards across my shoulders I moaned involuntarily. I had been quite unaware of how tight my body had become and this man’s touch was something rather special. He instinctively knew where every knot, every tight spot was and he worked them with the precision of a master craftsman. I cried out time and time again as Michael’s fingers worked their magic. At times the sensation was almost painful and would cause my head to swim, at others he would press down against me with such pressure that the breath would be forced from my lungs, but it always felt so damn good. I didn’t care about what I must sound like, I purred and I gasped, I moaned and I cried out as I felt years of tension worked from my body. Time disappeared as he treated my back and shoulders, my neck and my arms. His hands worked their way down to mine, where his fingers interlocked with my own and smeared them in the sweet scented oils. I felt wonderful. I had entirely forgotten how I had naughtily turned myself on and was in a state of blissful relaxation, but then…Michael moved lower.

He moved on to my calf muscles and pressed his thumbs deeply into them.

“Mmm.” I purred, as the tension I was unaware of suffering was teased from my body.

He began to sweep his hands higher, long, upward strokes pressing deep into the muscle. God he felt good!

In time he moved higher still, beyond my knees and kneading his strong fingers hard against the taught muscles at the rear of my thighs – if you squatted and raised yourself in stiletto heels as many times as I did in an evening, you would have super tense thigh muscles too.

His touch felt so very, very good. Time and time