The Landscaper’s Secret


I stood by the window, my eyes locked onto the object of my secret desire—Diego. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow on his tanned skin as he skillfully maneuvered the lawnmower across my front yard. I couldn’t help but admire his every move, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

I had always found Diego, my landscaper, incredibly attractive. He was a few years older than me, a handsome Latino man with dark, seductive eyes and a charming smile. His muscular body glistened with sweat as he worked, the tight shirt clinging to his broad chest and arms, leaving little to the imagination. I knew it was inappropriate, but I couldn’t stop myself from fantasizing about him.

On this particular day, the heat was sweltering, and I could see the beads of sweat rolling down his face. His dark hair, usually neatly combed, was now sticking to his forehead, and I felt a sudden urge to offer him some relief. I watched as he paused to wipe his brow, his hands resting on his hips, and I made up my mind.

As Diego pushed the mower towards the side of the house, I quickly made my way downstairs, my heart racing with excitement. I opened the front door, the screen door creaking slightly, and stepped out onto the porch.

“Diego!” I called out, my voice slightly trembling. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine, and a look of surprise crossed his handsome face. “Hey, Jane,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Is everything okay?”

I took a step forward, feeling a bit bolder. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come in for a moment. It’s really hot out here, and I thought you might appreciate a cold drink and maybe a shower to cool off.” I bit my lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my bold invitation.

Diego’s eyes widened, and a playful smile spread across his face. “A shower, huh? That sounds amazing, especially after working under this scorching sun.” He switched off the mower and started walking towards me, his strong, confident stride making my knees weak. “I’d love to, but are you sure it’s okay?”

“Of course, it’s no problem at all,” I assured him, stepping aside to let him in. I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes briefly scanned my body as he passed, and I felt a rush of heat between my thighs.

As Diego entered the cool interior of my house, I closed the door behind him, my mind racing with anticipation. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just go and get you a towel and show you the bathroom.” I turned and walked towards the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest.

In the bathroom, I grabbed a clean towel from the cabinet and paused, my hand resting on the doorknob. I took a deep breath, my mind filled with naughty thoughts. I knew it was wrong, but the temptation was too strong. With a swift motion, I opened the door, stepping back slightly to give him space.

Diego stood there, his back to me, as he removed his shirt, revealing his broad, muscular back. I bit my lip, my eyes trailing down to the waist of his jeans, my pulse quickening. Without warning, he turned, and my breath caught in my throat. He was completely naked, his erection prominent and impressive.

“Oh my,” I whispered, my eyes widening at the sight before me. Diego’s cock was thick and long, standing proudly, already glistening with pre-cum. I felt my cheeks flush, my pussy throbbing with desire.

“I… I didn’t realize you were in here,” he stammered, his eyes darting away, a hint of shyness in his voice.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. “It’s okay, Diego. I just… I wanted to bring you a towel.” I held up the towel, my hand shaking slightly. “But I can see you don’t need it just yet.” I took a step forward, my eyes locked onto his beautiful cock.

Diego’s gaze met mine, and I saw a mixture of desire and uncertainty in his dark eyes. “I… I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, his voice hoarse.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him, taking another step closer. “I find it… fascinating.” I reached out, my fingers gently brushing against his shaft, feeling the warmth and hardness of his flesh.

He let out a sharp breath, his body tensing at my touch. “You… you shouldn’t,” he whispered, but his words held no conviction.

Ignoring his weak protest, I wrapped my hand around his thick cock, marveling at its size and the way it filled my palm. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like,” I confessed, stroking him slowly, feeling his lengthening and hardening even more in my grasp.

Diego’s breath quickened, his eyes closing as he surrendered to my touch. “Oh, Jane…” he groaned, his hips thrusting slightly, encouraging my strokes.

I knelt before him, my eyes never leaving his beautiful cock. “I want to taste you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with desire. With a swift motion, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, my lips sliding down his length, my tongue swirling around the head.

He tasted salty and musky, and I moaned softly around him, the vibrations sending shivers through his body. I sucked him eagerly, my lips sliding up and down, my hand pumping the base of his shaft in rhythm with my mouth.

“Oh fuck, Jane,” Diego panted, his hands gripping my hair, his hips thrusting forward, driving his cock deeper into my throat. “Your mouth feels so good.”

I looked up at him, my eyes sparkling with lust, and he gazed down at me, his expression a mix of pleasure and surprise. I loved the way he responded to my touch, the way he surrendered to my mouth, his big, hard cock sliding in and out, stretching my lips and filling my mouth.

Withdrawing my mouth, I stood up, my hand still stroking his length. “I want more,” I whispered, my voice husky. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Diego’s eyes blazed with desire as he pulled me towards him, his hands roaming over my body, cupping my breasts through my shirt. “I want that too,” he said, his voice thick with need.

I kissed him passionately, our tongues dancing wildly as he backed me towards the sink, lifting me onto the counter. My hands worked frantically at his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, eager to free his throbbing cock.

As I pushed his jeans down his muscular thighs, his hard length sprang free, bobbing slightly with his heartbeat. I couldn’t wait any longer, I needed to feel him inside me. I positioned myself, guiding his thick cock to my entrance, my pussy already dripping with anticipation.

With a gentle push, I impaled myself on his length, gasping as he filled me completely. Diego’s hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of my wetness, eliciting moans of pleasure from both of us.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunted, his breath hot against my neck as he kissed and nibbled my sensitive skin.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, my nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Yes, Diego, fuck me,” I begged, my head thrown back, my breasts heaving with each thrust.

He pounded into me, his cock hitting my sweet spot with every stroke, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I could feel my orgasm building, my pussy clenching around his hardness.

“I’m gonna cum, Jane,” he growled, his voice strained. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside me,” I panted, my nails scratching his back. “Fill me up with your hot cum.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Diego buried himself deep within me, his body shuddering as he released his load, filling me with his warmth. I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me, my pussy pulsating around his pulsing cock.

As our breathing slowed, Diego rested his forehead against mine, his hands gently caressing my back. “That was incredible,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder.

I smiled, my heart racing. “It was, and it’s just the beginning.” I leaned in and kissed him softly, my mind already spinning with ideas for our next encounter.

Little did Diego know, this was just the start of a steamy affair that would leave us both breathless and craving more.

A Thanksgiving Night to Remember

I had always loved Thanksgiving, the warmth and coziness of the holiday, the delicious food, and the chance to spend time with loved ones. But this year, I found myself alone. My family lived across the country, and with my busy work schedule, I hadn’t been able to make the trip home. So, on that chilly November evening, I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner at a charming little restaurant called The Bistro. I had heard great things about their food, and the intimate atmosphere seemed perfect for a solo celebration.

As I stepped into the cozy dining room, I was greeted by the warm glow of candlelit tables and the soft murmur of conversations. The restaurant was elegantly decorated with autumn hues, and the aroma of roasted turkey and pumpkin pie filled the air, making my mouth water. I was led to a cozy corner table, and as I settled into the plush seat, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. It was a welcome change from the usual hustle and bustle of my daily life.

I scanned the menu, my eyes lingering on the mouth-watering options. The Bistro offered a special Thanksgiving feast, and I eagerly opted for it. As I waited for my meal, I observed the other patrons, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the lone diners like myself. That’s when I noticed him.

Christopher, as I later learned his name was, sat a few tables away, alone like me. He was hard to miss with his striking appearance—red hair that fell in gentle waves, framing his handsome face, and bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with kindness. He had a slim build, and his suit suggested he was in town for business. There was an air of gentleness about him, and I found myself intrigued.

I couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as I savored my dinner. The Bistro did not disappoint; the food was exquisite. I indulged in every course, from the creamy pumpkin soup to the perfectly roasted turkey with all the trimmings. As I enjoyed my meal, I noticed Christopher doing the same, and we exchanged subtle smiles, acknowledging our shared appreciation for the culinary delights.

When the waiter offered dessert, I decided to be a little adventurous and ordered the pumpkin cheesecake. As I took the first bite, my eyes closed in bliss, and I let out a soft moan of pleasure, unaware of the effect it might have on my handsome dining companion.

“That good, huh?” Christopher’s voice startled me, and I turned to find him standing by my table with a charming smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your reaction to the cheesecake. I was considering ordering it myself.”

I felt my cheeks flush, realizing my reaction might have been a bit over the top. “Oh, it’s divine,” I replied, my voice a little breathless. “You should definitely try it.”

He took a seat at my table, and we started chatting, our conversation flowing effortlessly. I learned that he was indeed in town for business, and like me, he had no family nearby. There was an instant connection between us, a shared loneliness that drew us together.

Christopher had a gentle, soothing voice that made me feel at ease. We talked about our lives, our passions, and our love for good food. His eyes lit up when he spoke, and I found myself captivated by his charm. As the evening progressed, I felt a growing desire to get to know this man better, to explore the connection that seemed to spark between us.

“It’s getting late,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But I’d hate for the night to end. Would you like to continue this conversation somewhere more private?”

My heart skipped a beat at his suggestion. I knew what he was implying, and the thought of spending more time with this handsome stranger excited me. I wanted to explore the chemistry that had been building between us.

“I’d love to,” I replied, my voice laced with anticipation.

We settled the bill and stepped out into the crisp night air, our breath forming little clouds in the chilly atmosphere. Christopher suggested a nearby hotel, and I readily agreed, eager to see where the night would take us.

The hotel lobby was warm and inviting, with a cozy fireplace crackling in the corner. We checked in, and as we stepped into the elevator, the tension between us became palpable. We stood close, our bodies almost touching, and I could feel his warmth. The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity, and I was acutely aware of his every breath, every movement.

As the elevator doors opened, we stepped out, hand in hand, our fingers intertwined. The hallway was dimly lit, adding to the intimate atmosphere. We found our room, and Christopher unlocked the door, holding it open for me with a gentlemanly gesture.

The room was cozy and luxurious, with a king-sized bed that looked incredibly inviting. I felt a tingle of anticipation as I imagined what might unfold on those soft sheets.

“Can I get you a drink?” Christopher asked, moving towards the minibar.

“A glass of wine would be lovely,” I replied, my voice slightly hoarse with desire.

He poured two glasses of red wine and handed me one, his fingers brushing against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I took a sip, the rich flavor of the wine complementing the growing heat within me.

As we sipped our wine, we stood close, our eyes locked in an unspoken promise of what was to come. I could see the desire in his eyes, mirroring my own. Without a word, he set his glass down and pulled me into his arms, his lips finding mine in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

His lips were soft and warm, and I melted into his embrace, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders, relishing the feel of his strong body. His kiss was like a slow dance, each movement deliberate and sensual. I could taste the wine on his tongue, and the combination of flavors and sensations sent a wave of pleasure through me.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed soft kisses along my jawline, his breath hot against my skin. I arched my neck, inviting him to explore further, my body already responding to his touch. His hands moved to my waist, gently guiding me towards the bed, our kisses never ceasing.

As we reached the bed, I gently pushed him onto the mattress, wanting to take control for a moment. I straddled him, my knees on either side of his hips, and leaned in for another kiss, this time taking the lead. I explored his mouth with my tongue, tasting him, feeling his hands on my thighs, inching their way up under my dress.

I could feel his erection pressing against me through his pants, and I ground my hips down, enjoying the sensation of his hardness. His hands found their way to my breasts, cupping their fullness through my dress. I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair, urging him on.

With nimble fingers, he unbuttoned my dress, revealing my lace bra and the swell of my ample cleavage. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of my voluptuous curves. I smiled, feeling a surge of power, knowing I had this handsome man at my mercy.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

I leaned down, my breasts brushing against his chest, and kissed him again, my tongue teasing his lips. Then, with a gentle push, I urged him onto his back, wanting to tease and please him.

I began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his smooth, pale skin. I kissed my way down his neck, nipping gently at his collarbone, making him squirm beneath me. His hands roamed over my back, pulling me closer, his breath coming in short gasps.

I worked my way down, kissing and licking his chest, teasing his nipples with my tongue, making him arch off the bed with a soft groan. My hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it slowly, my eyes never leaving his. I wanted to savor every moment, to draw out the anticipation.

With a swift motion, I pulled his shirt open, baring his chest, and then unbuckled his belt, sliding it from the loops of his pants. His breathing was ragged now, his eyes hooded with desire. I slid my hands inside his pants, grasping his erection through his boxers, feeling it throb in response.

“Please…” he whispered, his voice thick with want.

I smiled, loving the power I held over him. “Patience, my dear,” I teased, giving his length a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

I stood up, slowly removing my dress, revealing my curvaceous body clad in nothing but lingerie. His eyes devoured me, his desire evident. I moved to the edge of the bed, slowly rolling down my stockings, revealing my smooth thighs and the lace of my garters.

Christopher’s breath caught as I stepped out of my lingerie, fully exposing my naked body. I was unapologetically voluptuous, my breasts full and heavy, my hips wide, and my skin glowing in the soft light. I moved sensually towards him, watching his eyes follow my every move.

I straddled him again, this time facing away, my back to his chest. I could feel his hardness against my buttocks as I leaned forward, reaching for the nightstand drawer. I pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom, placing them on the bedside table.

“I want you,” I whispered, my voice husky with desire. “But I want to take care of you first.”

I reached back, taking his hard length in my hand, and guided it to my entrance, teasingly rubbing the tip against my wetness. I could feel his pulse quicken, his breath hot on my neck. With one smooth motion, I sank down, taking him inside me, filling myself with his throbbing cock.

I gasped at the sensation, my body stretching to accommodate his size. He felt incredible, every inch of him sending waves of pleasure through me. I began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, riding him, my breasts swaying with each thrust.

Christopher’s hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements, his body responding to my rhythm. I could feel his control slipping as he thrust up to meet my descent, his breath coming in short, sharp pants.

“Oh, Carol…” he groaned, his voice strained. “You feel incredible.”

His words spurred me on, and I rode him harder, my body demanding release. I reached between my legs, finding my clit, and began to rub in time with our movements, sending sparks of pleasure through my core.

“Touch me,” I begged, my voice breathless. “Please, Christopher…”

He complied, his fingers replacing mine, his touch sending me over the edge. I cried out as my orgasm ripped through me, my body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

Christopher’s release came soon after, his body tensing beneath me as he filled the condom with his hot seed. He called out my name, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he spilled himself inside me.

We lay there, entangled in each other’s arms, our hearts racing and our bodies glistening with sweat. I turned in his arms, my cheek resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as our breathing slowly returned to normal.

“That was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Incredible,” I finished for him, a satisfied smile on my face. “And this is just the beginning.”

He pulled me closer, his lips finding mine in a tender kiss. “I can’t wait to see what else this night has in store for us.”

As we lay there, satiated and content, I knew that this Thanksgiving would be one to remember. I had found more than just a delicious dinner at The Bistro; I had found a connection, a passion that would keep me warm through the cold winter nights ahead. And I couldn’t wait to explore every inch of this man who had captured my heart and body in equal measure.

Your Perverted Therapist

When you talk to people that have troubling issues in their past, it can be very interesting. Sometimes horrifying, but interesting. Some of the men that are my patients have told me very unsettling incidents from their past, and I soon learned the root causes of many fetishes are from past traumatic experiences. Some told me thing that were done to them, and I have to admit, although it can be very wrong to be aroused by a patient baring their soul to you, some of the things they described did turn me on. I can’t let them know this of course, they’d think I was some kind of pervert. Well, I kind of am a pervert in some ways. Aren’t we all?

Sometimes if a patient wasn’t feeling well enough to come for his in person appointment, I’d do a phone appointment with them and of course they couldn’t see me when I’d talk to them this way. More than once as they were relating things to me on the phone, I’d be masturbating in my office as I listened to them. Men that call me have confessed so many incidents over the years, things they’ve never shared with anyone.

One caller told me about how when he was younger he had a paper route and one of the last men on his route was an older man that invited him in one day when it was hot and he always had ice cold pop and snacks ready. Very convenient, hmm? So he went into the neighbors home many times and would have a drink and snacks and then one day the man asked him if he’d ever seen pornography and he said no. So the man brought out a stack of magazines and showed them to the boy and he was in awe at the pictures in the dirty magazines. This was of course many decades before the internet existed.

So soon the man graduated to asking him if he’d ever touched himself and the boy said no, so the older man asked him if he’d like to see how it was done, so he showed him and encouraged the boy to do the same, and of course things quickly evolved from there to blow jobs and hand jobs with the much older man.

Another patient told me how he’d gotten his first job at a service station pumping gas and the other guy that worked there taught him to masturbate and he would have him perform oral sex on him after the station closed before the young man would go home. He spoke fondly back on giving those blow jobs decades ago and how he loved to suck cock to this day in secret from any women he’s ever been involved in a relationship with, which is a very common thing clients tell me.

There’s all sorts of naughty stories like these, some a lot naughtier, that maybe you’d like to hear, or maybe share some of your own similar types of stories about some of your first experiences that were not quite the normal variety that you’d like to share with someone that you still think about to this day, even decades later. It’s incredible how some experiences can have such long lasting effects of men. Ones from so long ago that may have happened only once or a few times, and the people they were with are long dead, yet they think about these things when they masturbate to this day.

Being a phone sex operator has a lot in common with being a therapist. You are listening to people’s intimate problems, many times secret things they’ve never shared. Like a psychiatrist, it really is a privileged relationship. The info shared by a caller will never be used against them, it’s private, so they know they can tell you pretty much anything, no matter how dark, but I do have my limits, so let’s not be too perverted! A patient of mine once had a crush on me and asked if it would be possible for him to masturbate during our sessions as he lay on the couch. I knew it wasn’t really appropriate, but I said yes, feel free to do it. I was amazed at the size of his penis and I had to admit, turned on as he stroked himself in front of me. As soon as the session was over, I locked the door and masturbated myself. I was dripping wet and brought myself to three orgasms. Sometimes the head doctors are as nutty as the patients.

Watching Me Masturbate

Being more mature does not mean having no sex drive. Sometimes it means having to work harder for that orgasm that came so effortlessly in our younger days, but many women that are older now have the time to explore their bodies like never before. I’ve always enjoyed masturbating in many different ways. With my fingers, with the water massager in the shower, with a vibrator, pool jets in swimming pools. There’s so many different ways. Fingers always seemed the most natural way, but as we get older, some of us may lubricate a bit less than before, and a good lube to keep things slick is a must.

Many times callers will confess they will wake up in the middle of the night and masturbate and then go back to bed. That does happen. In the morning, it can almost seem dreamlike and surreal. I have my bottle of lube on the bedside table, easy to access at any time. To reach over in the dark and make my fingertips all slippery and then start to caress my already excited clit feels wonderful. Masturbating on your back can be the most comfortable for some, it is for me, but sometimes laying on your side and just bucking against your own hand can be very arousing as well.

So many callers will say they edge themselves for hours, days or weeks even. Teasing themselves and not allowing themselves to come to orgasm. In the knowledge that when they do finally allow themselves to cum, it will be a blockbuster. All the frustration of bringing yourself to the brink and back again. Many callers ask if I’ve masturbated in front of my man, since most men love to see a woman pleasure themselves. Yes, I honestly think it’s quite educational for the man to watch that. Men don’t know how to read our minds, if they see how you like to be touched by watching you do it yourself, then they will be better able to please you.

Years ago a boyfriend of mine asked rather sheepishly if he could maybe watch me masturbate. It was so cute how he asked, I could see him blushing as he did. I knew he wanted to, but he didn’t want to seem like some kind of pervert. His timid nature was cute at times. I told him yes, he was free to watch as I made myself cum. I didn’t want a spotlight or anything, but there was soft lighting and candles. He pulled a chair in my bedroom closer to the bed. I laid back and raised my knees a bit, my feet on the bed. I caressed the outside of my pussy before opening my lips. I have long nails, and it feels nice to lightly run the nails all over the pubic area.

Slowly teasing myself, I opened my cunt lips. They were already getting moist. I spread myself wide and I could feel his eyes on me. I could hear him breathing a bit heavily. My performance was obviously arousing him. I dipped my fingertips into my pussy, scooping up some wetness to smear it on my clit. It felt so good. I began to slowly buck my hips up and down as I ground my fingers into my clit. My nipples were hard, my breasts shaking a bit as I bucked back and forth. The squeaking of the bed as I rocked back and forth on it made it all the more real as he watched me with rapt interest.

I alternated between making tiny circles and up and down motions on my pussy. I glanced over at him and smiled as I saw he’d taken out his cock and was stroking it up and down in his hand as he watched me masturbate. He was getting close to cumming as I myself was approaching my own orgasm. I love masturbating, but with someone so intently staring at my crotch is a bit nerve wracking. I did understand however he was learning how I enjoyed being touched, and this little educational show and tell would pay off for me later, when it was his turn to touch me and he knew exactly how I liked to be touched. I came and cried out. So did he. It was enough excitement for one night for us both. I do look forward to the next time we get together and I can see how much he learned from our little lesson.

A Visit to the Spa

Now that my husband had given me his permission to play with anyone I’d like, I feel as though a great gift has been given to me. I can just be natural and free and see where experiences take me. On the recommendation of a girlfriend, I booked a massage at a new spa in town. I hadn’t had many massages, but if she raved about it so much, I figured I should try it as well. I got undressed and hopped up onto the table. The room was dimly lit with lovely, fragrant candles lit and soft New Age type music playing with pan flutes and chimes and no particular melody. There was a lovely atmosphere here and I was happy to just relax and enjoy myself for the day getting pampered. My husband peter made a great living and we were well off, so days at the spa were no worry whatsoever.

I was laying face down and heard the door close. A man that introduced himself as Sven. He pulled down the sheet that was partially covering me, leaving only my buttocks covered and I heard him opening a snap top bottle of oil and then rubbing his hands together before rubbing it all over my back and shoulders. It felt wonderful, just divine. I was relaxing so well and so thoroughly, I thought I might fall asleep. I had my eyes closed and was just enjoying the sensations. He worked my back, shoulders, legs and feet before having me flip over. I lay there and he asked if I was modest and cared about the sheet, as it was just as easy if it was out of the way. I didn’t care, so he tossed it aside. He worked those strong hands all over my body. He asked if it was ok to do my breasts, not all women are ok with that, so he wanted to check first. I said it was fine.

He massaged them and oiled them and my body was soon betraying me and my nipples were getting hard. He toyed with them a bit and when I didn’t stop him, he continued to go further than perhaps some women would want. He massaged my belly and my upper thighs and hips and he lightly grazed my pussy lips with his hand, as if by accident. He didn’t come right out and ask, but my parting my legs to give him easy access gave him the go ahead he needed to proceed. It’s not just men that get happy endings to their massages.

He drizzled some oil down my slit and then began to slowly and careful massage my pussy lips from the outside. I was in heaven. He worked his skillful hands all over me and then finally dipped his fingers into my wetness. He smeared the wetness from my pussy and the oil together and caressed my clit up and down until I was breathing nice and heavy. I knew he was not going to start moving quickly, nor did I want him to. He went slow and easy and alternated the pressure of how he touched me, firmly then gently, almost to a tickle like touch and then firm again. He found out which sort of touch I best responded to and then he repeated it over and over and I was practically writhing there on the table as he rubbed me to orgasm. I knew I had to remain quiet, since I didn’t want other spa clients hearing me cum, that wouldn’t have exactly been appropriate, but in all likelihood they too were having their own happy ending massages, but we all had to be discreet about it and just bite our lips and enjoy the sensations.

I loved it, and he made me feel so good, needless to say I gave him a generous tip and would be sure to return there and recommend the spa to all my friends. I then slipped into the adjoining bathroom and had a long, hot shower and left there feeling like a million bucks. I practically purred as I drove myself home. I was sure to tell my husband Peter al about my spa adventures when I got home and I know he loved hearing every sinful detail of my visit.