The Masseur

The drumming is two… ten beats per cycle
A worried heart hides beneath aroused flesh
The red gashes in her face threatens to explode
“A-are you su-sure about thi-this?”

The earth quakes under his steady feet,
From the rocking lamb at his mercy
Licking lips, staring back at the life hanging in the balance
“Don’t worry… I’ve done this before, you know…”

She further shrinks her body, wary, frightened
Flung in her little fling
Risked under intricate traps in this exotic path
“I’ll be gentle…”

The comfort soothes in the slow experiment
As the technician courses around cautiously, but soon
Evolving to calculated blows in quick adaptation
“Can you feel it…?”

The receiver muffles for silence, afraid
To be reduced in her barest minimum
Conforming under this coiling surrender
“Mmmh…”

The messenger hears the cue,
Accelerating the blows in to unimaginable vigor
Digging deeper in to sensuous meat and nerves
“I’ll go harder now…”

The receiver can no longer keep silent,
As the body trembles under immense pressure
Imposing over the rest of the body’s senses
“Aaah…! Aaaah…! Aaaah…!”

A deluge, the burst of the floodgates
The sparks comes rushing in without abandon
In a snap…! Euphoria collided with Nirvana
“Aaaaaaaaaah…!”

The ephemeral fire soon fades,
Leaving the muscles loose and vulnerable…
Zenith descending back
We see the aftermath, in a strangled daze,
Like the shaking after a bomb hits.
Confusing, exalting, as the warmth slowly drains

Then she stands up, it’s over.
The contract is done, the deal dealt.
She leaves, slightly satisfied, slightly bewildered,
Slightly ashamed, slightly craving…

“Thank you ma’am, we hope to see you again.”