"Sandra, please, I have to sort this out," I replied. "But... but... but...." And then a change seemed to come over her. It was as if she had become a different woman. She stood up straighter and the fear just slipped from her eyes."I'm so sorry. Where are my manners? Come on in," she said brightly. She opened the door wide and motioned me into the house."Go on through to the lounge," she said as she closed the door behind me. "What would you like, tea or coffee?"I went on through and sat on the sofa while she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. When she reappeared she was carrying two cups of tea, which she put down on the coffee table. She then sat in an armchair opposite me."Now then, what brings you all the way over town to see little me?" she asked."Please, Sandra, whatever you're doing, please, can you stop?" Whatever I'm doing?" she said as if genuinely surprised. "But I haven't done anything. I mean, apart from our delightful date the other evening and those beautiful. Not him. Imperfect perfection. She breathed out again. After doing the massage technique a few times, he came closer to her, applied more soap and eased the tension in her shoulders again. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six circular motions with his thumbs. His hands glided down her chest slowly, then closer to her breasts. He cupped them and massaged them slowly in circular motion. They were firm yet soft. Her nipples hard. Maybe from the water cascading down; maybe from his touch; maybe from anticipation; maybe from the massage; maybe from all of those things. She didn’t stop him. Slowly, his hands went further down to her belly, drawing circles on it, as if he could paint an abstract art of them in the shower, of the moment. He snuggled his head on her neck gently, and then turned and kissed it. It sent a tingle down her spine as his lips touched. She was drowning in the moment of it, savouring the sensations. “May I?” he asked, letting his fingers trace lines further down.
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