by Lydia Litt
“He was everything you professed,” Jessica replied with a smile.
“Glad to hear it.” Angela sipped her wine, adding, “His hands have done wonders for my marriage.”
“Really?” Jessica was confused. “Isn’t seeing Marco a little bit like cheating on Russell?”
“Oh, god no!” Angela seemed genuinely horrified. “I made it clear right from the start that I loved my husband and wasn’t looking to have an affair.” Jessica was somehow relieved, but still confused.
“The first time I saw Marco,” Angela explained. “I told him I wanted to leave his table completely relaxed and horny as hell. That’s exactly what I got then and what I’ve continued to get, week after week. When I go home after one of Marco’s massages, Russ and I fuck like rabbits.” Angela paused to take another sip of wine. “Honestly, Jess, our sex life hasn’t been this good in years.”
“Does Russell know that Marco makes you hot?” The second glass of wine had increased Jessica’s curiosity and loosened her lips.
“Of course. It’s a fantasy thing for him. He loves the thought of another man getting my engine started as long as he gets to drive me home. If Marco made house calls, Russ would probably put him on retainer.”
Jessica pondered her friend’s response, wishing she was uninhibited enough to ask Marco for what she wanted, and wondering what, exactly, that was.
“Are you seeing him again?” Angela asked.
Jessica nodded. “Next week.” She had six more days to figure out what she wanted - and gather the courage to verbalize her desires.
***
Jessica slept poorly that night, dreaming in fragments and waking every few hours drenched in sweat. She chalked it up to too much morning sun followed by afternoon wine. At one point, her dreams carried her back to another time, when she and Daniel were young lovers.
“Let’s try something new,” he said with a wicked grin, waving a handful of silk scarves seductively back and forth. The motion reminded Jessica of the deliberate swish of a cat’s tail just before the pounce.
Daniel sensed her fear, he always did. As he walked closer, she could see that his pupils were dilated. Her fear excited him.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, wrapping the scarves around her neck and using them as a tether to draw her closer.
“Yes.” She wasn’t sure if she did, but it was the obedient answer he expected. Daniel kissed her softly on the lips.
“Finish undressing for me,” he commanded. She was already stripped to her underclothes, so discarding her lace bra and matching thong didn’t take long.
“You waxed it all away,” Daniel said, clearly pleased as he reached out and stroked her.
“You asked me to,” Jessica responded, trying not to recall the intense pain of her first Brazilian.
“Now I’m asking you to trust me.” Jessica always did what Daniel asked.
He led her to the four-poster bed and motioned for her to lie down. He didn’t explain what he was going to do with the scarves. His intention was clear as he tied her limbs to the bed posts, one-by-one.
The bindings were loose; Jessica could have easily wiggled free. But she didn’t. Instead, she stayed spread-eagle on the bed, her hairless mound unable to hide her growing excitement.
She watched Daniel shed his own clothing and wondered what he had planned. He leaned in to sample her wares, dipping his tongue between her smooth pussy lips to taste her juices. She let her eyes close and relaxed her head against the pillow, moaning as his tongue fluttered over her clit, her desire soaring.
“Tell me what you want, Jessica.” She was confused by the Spanish accent and realized that the voice in her dream was no longer Daniel’s. She opened her eyes to see that the head between her legs belonged to Marco!
Jessica woke with a start, her breathing rapid and shallow. She got out of bed and padded out to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and drinking deeply. The California sky was clear and the moon shone bright, illuminating the spotless counters and reflecting off the stainless steel appliances.
What in the hell is wrong with me?
She felt like she was losing her mind. Carrying her water to the bathroom, she rummaged around for a bottle of Xanax, swallowing the sedative before climbing back into bed. As the relaxing properties of the medicine kicked in, Jessica let herself drift back to sleep, her dreams temporarily halted by the powerful prescription drug.
***
On the day of her next massage appointment, Jessica entered The Neighborhood Salon with a bit of apprehension. In a way, she felt like an inexperienced teenager with her first crush. What should she say? How should she act?
But all of her anxiety melted away when Marco greeted her with his brilliant smile and brought the back of her hand gently to his lips. When their eyes locked, time stood still for a moment and the rest of the world faded away. Marco’s heated gaze sent electric energy coursing through Jessica’s body. In response, her pulse quickened, her cheeks flushed and her legs weakened.
Marco sensed the effect he was having on his client and broke their eye contact. He offered Jessica his arm, which she used to steady herself, and guided her to his massage room.
“I was not sure if you would keep your appointment,” Marco said, taking Jessica’s bag and sweater and setting them on the chair. “I was afraid I had gone too far with your first visit.”
Or not far enough, Jessica thought to herself. “Not at all. It was the best massage I’ve ever had.”
“I am glad you feel that way. Same treatment today, then?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Excellent. I will leave you to disrobe.”
Jessica quickly shed her clothes and climbed onto Marco’s massage table. Her nipples hardened when her breasts brushed against the smooth sheet and the warm table mixed with the heat of her body’s own arousal. She was aching for his touch.
When Marco returned, he went through the same preparation steps as last time, turning on the music, placing a pillow under Jessica’s legs and gathering the other items he needed for her treatment. The ritual put her mind at ease, but didn’t prepare her body for the shock of his first touch as he folded the sheet down to expose her backside.
How could something so innocent feel so utterly erotic?
Jessica quietly moaned when the oil dripped on her skin and Marco’s strong hands began to work their magic. Her body relaxed into his touch and she was swept away by sensation. Like before, he worked his way down her back before massaging her buttocks and slipping his hand between her parted legs.
“Tell me what you want, Jessica.” Marco’s voice was low and husky, just like in her dream, and she experienced a fleeting moment of deja vu.
“I want … to know more about you,” she finally said, stopping herself from voicing her true desire.
Marco complied with her request, seducing her entire body with his hands while his sexy voice told her about his childhood in Brazil. He was the oldest of six children, born into a family of coffee bean farmers. One day, when his father was unable to run the business, he would be expected to return to his native country and take over the family’s operations. For now, he was free to lead a life of his choosing.
“Why do you offer your, um, special massage services?” Jessica asked.
“Because there is a need for sensual touch. So many women have negative relationships with their bodies. If I can touch my client in a way that helps heal her relationship with herself, than I have done my job well.”
“Doesn’t what you do cross the line, legally?”
“In Brazil, the special services I offer are perfectly acceptable.”
Jessica didn’t argue that this was definitely not Brazil, choosing instead to change the subject. “What brought you to the U.S.?”
“A woman of course,” Marco laughed softly. “Lana and I met on the beach in Brazil. I was young and impressionable; she was older and experienced. She offered me a chance to experience life in America an
d I took it.”
“Is that when you became a massage therapist?”
“Yes. I wanted to go to school, but had already attended University in Brazil. Lana loved the backrubs and foot massages I gave her and suggested I look into the healing arts.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
“We eventually grew apart. Our love was not strong enough to overcome our cultural differences or our age gap.”
“I’m sorry.” Jessica’s eyes filled with tears at the wisp of regret in Marco’s voice.
“Do not be,” he said. “The experience taught me many things. How to follow my heart, how to heal a body with my hands, how to make love to a woman …”
Marco’s hands had slowed to a seductive crawl on Jessica’s body. Although she stayed still, inside, she was burning with desire. More than anything, she wanted him to touch her as a man, not as a massage therapist. But this was neither the time nor the place.
“I’m afraid our time is up,” Marco said, reluctantly removing his hands from Jessica’s body.
“Hmmm … that was wonderful, Marco. Please set me up for another appointment next week.”
“I will do that.” He paused before asking, “May I take you to lunch after your treatment next week?”
“Isn’t that against the rules or something?”
Marco laughed at her naiveté. “I am a massage therapist, Jessica, not a psychotherapist. There are no rules that prevent me from spending time with my clients outside the salon.”
She smiled sheepishly. “Then I would like that very much.”
“I am glad to hear that. I will look forward to your next visit.”
Marco left the massage room and Jessica stayed on the table for a few moments, letting the implications of his invitation sink in. She had so many questions that were left unanswered. Did asking her to lunch mean that that he was attracted to her? Or did he make a similar offer to all of his single women clients?
She would find out soon enough!
***
Marco couldn’t believe he had asked Jessica Duncan to lunch! Not only was she a client, but she was a married one at that. Even though she was getting divorced, she was still legally bound to another man. And that came with the kind of baggage he wasn’t sure he was ready for. What had come over him?
Her interest in him, that’s what.
It had been so long since a woman had been truly curious about who he was and where he came from. Clearly, her social skills were polished. But he didn’t get the sense that she was just being polite.
Talking to Jessica about his family, his work and even about Lana was easy. Although he barely knew her, sharing details about his life seemed natural, comfortable even. So comfortable, in fact, that he crossed the line between professional and personal without giving any thought to the possible consequences.
Although Marco and Jessica were close in age, it didn’t escape his notice that they walked in different worlds. Much like his relationship with Lana, this fact spelled certain doom for their future. Still, he couldn’t deny his growing attraction to the beautiful, soulful blonde. An attraction that occupied his every waking moment and urged him to follow his heart.
***
The week went by quickly for Jessica. Her days were filled with volunteer work; her women’s group had started planning their annual Children’s Hospital benefit auction and Rebecca Dorn, the event chairwoman, had tasked Jessica with overseeing several committees. She was excited to put her event planning skills to good use and immersed herself in every detail.
At night, Jessica’s dreams were laced with sexual visions, often shifting between Daniel and Marco. At one point, she dreamed about the first time she had dared to dismiss Daniel.
She and Daniel were still newlyweds and had recently bought the country house. Jessica had planned a housewarming party for Daniel’s colleagues and made some last minute changes to the menu and wine list. Although the guests had nothing but praise for the food and drink, Daniel wasn’t happy that she hadn’t run her changes by him first.
“You vowed to love, honor and obey me,” Daniel said. There was an edge to his voice that relayed his anger.
“Be reasonable, Daniel. I can’t run every detail of every party by you. I wouldn’t get anything done!”Jessica couldn’t believe her husband was being so petty. The party was a success, so why was he mad?
She started to walk away and he grabbed her arm roughly. “Our conversation isn’t over.”
“You’re hurting me!” she cried and he loosened his grip.
“You need to be punished for your behavior. Wait here.” She stood there, afraid to move, afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing and afraid of what kind of punishment Daniel had in mind.
After leaving their bedroom, he returned with a leather flogger. “Remove your clothes and lean over the ottoman.”
“You must be joking,” Jessica said, although she could tell from his intense look that he was completely serious. “You’re going to spank me with some sort of horse switch?” She laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood. But instead of deflecting his anger, her response seemed to incite Daniel even more.
He pushed her to the bed. Then, reaching for the bodice of her dress, he yanked the fabric from her body with one violent tug. Jessica screamed, but there was nobody to hear her.
“When I give you an order, I expect you to obey,” Daniel said darkly, slipping his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down toward her feet. “Now, get up and lean over the ottoman.”
Resisting the urge to cover her nakedness, Jessica scrambled off the bed and did as Daniel directed. Kneeling on the plush carpet, she hid her burning face in her hands and draped her body over the cushioned footstool, exposing her backside to his mercy.
The sensation of leather tails softly stoking her ass made Jessica wonder if Daniel was just trying to scare her. But when she felt the sting of leather on her bare skin, she knew otherwise. She jumped at the first swift contact, but relaxed a little when she realized the sting was mild, and was followed by a rush of warmth.
“I am your master in every way,” Daniel stated as he flicked the flogger against her ass, harder now.
“Yes, Daniel.” Jessica gripped the ottoman with her hands, surprised by the feeling of pain mixed with pleasure.
“You will keep me informed of your actions, do you understand?”
Flick! Flick! Flick!
“Yes, Daniel.” Jessica was gritting her teeth now, the intensity of Daniel’s flogging spreading a heat to her belly that she tried to resist. But each time he brought the flogger down, a primal sound of need and desire now escaped her lips. She didn’t want to be aroused by Daniel’s domination over her, but her body’s response was uncontrollable. She was wet for him and he knew it. His control over her was complete.
Eventually, he set the flogger down and kneeled behind her, using his hands to soothe her reddened flesh. She relaxed against the ottoman and heard the sound of his zipper. When she felt his rigid cock probe her opening from behind, she was more than ready to take him deep inside. She pushed against him and let her body swallow the entire length of his erect member. When Daniel groaned in response, Jessica smiled. She was in control now.
***
Marco took Jessica to lunch at a small bistro in the same neighborhood as the salon. They sat on the back patio, sipping iced tea and making small talk while they waited for their food.
Jessica told him about her work on the auction and how Rebecca had entrusted her with many important details. “To be honest,” she confessed, “I’m a little nervous. Planning your own party is one thing. Planning an event that disadvantaged children are depending on is another.”
“Taking on a challenge such as this is an excellent way to build confidence,” Marco replied. “I applaud your commitment to such a worthy endeavor.”
Jessica spontaneously reached across the table and squeezed Marco’s hand. “Thank you,” she said, smiling
warmly and meeting his gaze before drawing her hand back into her lap.
Returning her smile, Marco said, “Would you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Then, before Jessica could respond, he added, “If you are getting divorced, why do you still wear your wedding ring?”
Jessica looked away, appearing to study a bug that had landed on the privacy fence surrounding the bistro’s patio. “It’s complicated.”
“Most relationships are.”
“Daniel left me for a younger woman and … other reasons, I suppose.”
“Do you still love him?”
“No. If he hadn’t ended things, it was only a matter of time before I did. But this other woman is now pregnant with his child and Daniel tells me that it makes her uncomfortable that I’m still wearing his ring. She stole my husband and she’s the uncomfortable one?”
“If you do not love him, why do you continue wearing a ring that has no meaning?”
Jessica diverted her gaze back to Marco. “Pride maybe, or revenge. She’s having the baby Daniel refused to give me so I keep wearing the ring that symbolizes that I had him first.” She laughed ruefully. “I said it was complicated.”
Marco looked at Jessica intently. “Perhaps if you stopped wearing Daniel’s ring, he would no longer have power over you. Maybe then you could learn to love again. Or at the very least, be willing to tell me what you really want.”
Jessica squirmed under Marco’s scrutiny, aware of the underlying meaning in his words. She was relieved when the server returned with their lunch, providing an abrupt diversion that ended that particular conversation with Marco. The rest of the meal was devoted to less intense chatter, which suited her just fine. Delving into her complex and convoluted feelings about Daniel and why she had so much trouble asking for what she wanted was unsettling.
After lunch, Marco and Jessica walked back to The Neighborhood Salon so she could get her car and he could get back to work.
Suddenly, Marco grasped Jessica’s hands in his. “I want to see you again,” he said.
“I’d like that,” Jessica responded.