Massage Heaven

Massage Heaven  
   
     My heart beats in a bath of ambient music. The waves of sound wash over me like a tropic surf. I am naked underneath the cotton towel which drapes me like an altar cloth. Deep in the crux of my manhood I feel my nexus pulse. Sarah enters my sacred space with soft words, “Are you comfortable?”  
     My gossamer voice whispers, “Oh yes I am.”  
     She says “I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s your wife doing?”  
     “She’s moving out as we speak. We’re divorcing.”  
     Sarah exclaims, “But you still love her, don’t you? You don’t stop loving her just because you’re breaking up!”  
     Suddenly her hands squeeze my shoulders with surges of Caribbean warmth flooding under her touch. Sarah opens her heart. “I just turned 21” she says. I lie in acquiescence to her kneading of my body’s need. She unfolds like a fan with intimations. “My dog doesn’t like men. But he likes me. I think it’s because I’m a woman and he’s a male.”  
     She stretches the boundaries of our encounter. “If you point ‘it’ down I can go lower.”  
     I look up, “What is ‘it’?”  
     She repeats “Point ‘it’ down and I can go lower.”  
     I sink into silence. She reaches across me and points my quill down. Then she rubs up and down my pubis till my manhood grows like a sapling into a mighty redwood. Yet her fingers never contact my tree of life.  
    She speaks “You know one of my coworkers has a problem with giving men a bikini wax. She doesn’t like the guy’s rod slipping out of his underwear. I tell her to just push it back under. I don’t mind massaging a man’s rod, if not for the rules. It’s just another part of the human body. It’s natural.”  
     My voice quivers with excitement. I tell her “Please keep massaging  me down there.”  
     Her hands orbit my pinnacle with determination. My crown is exposed as the towel slips under her pressure. I float in her sea of sensuality. After an eternity of bliss she asks me  
“Did you like this kind of massage?”  
     I huskily say, “Oh yes.”      
     She retreats from the room. My heart throbs like a boy who got his wish on Christmas day.