. something. Neither of us gives it to him.“I just don’t want there to be,” he starts again. “ ... hard feelings.”I swirl the bourbon in the glass. Look down at it. Hear her breath under the music. I can always hear her breathe. It’s the heartbeat in every conversation we’ve ever had. I see her scrunch her toes on the carpet, most likely cold. And anxious.Can we just speak plain?“Don’t worry about that at all,” I reassure him. “I want this to happen. Please accept this as a gesture of my friendship.” My glass wishes him salut.We’re playing for the same teamThe only woman I’ve ever loved takes his hand and he willingly follows her buttocks towards the stairs. At the base of the stairwell she pulls him down to whisper in his ear. He pulls back and nods, then picks her up into his arms and begins ascending the stairwell. Her arms wrap around his neck and her face gets very close to his, him inhaling her breath. The breath that sustains me.But I’m the one that’s acting like acting like. Very soft at first along my spine, then firmer as he went along. His hands were very strong but his touch, very gentle. Slowly, methodically up my back to my shoulders, my arms, hands, then my fingers, one at a time.Oh, this was very nice. I almost forgot that it was a sensual massage. Then, he went back down my body and began kneading my butt. His hands were firm, and I must say, it was now feeling more than just relaxing.Jim had joined in and was up rubbing my shoulders and Bryant was moving along to my legs. When he got to my calves, it really felt good, I was slipping back into enjoying a regular massage. Then on to my feet, which felt wonderful, especially when he worked my arches.Then back up my legs, Jim now was rubbing on my back, they were both out of sight and all the effort was now on my thighs and butt. Firms hands were working my thighs and I felt a pull moving my legs apart and hands dipping between my legs, not really anywhere sensitive quite yet, but, yes, pretty.
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