Last night I dreamed that I gave Madonna a massage.
I work in a famous health and beauty salon in Knightsbridge. I've been there for two years and am one of their most experienced masseuse. I have famous clients and although I am very professional I have to admit that the sight of their naked bodies gives me a thrill, particularly the women.
I hear her before I see her. Her accent cuts through the posh English atmosphere.
"What the fuck is going on?"
"I'm sorry Madam..."
Now it's the voice of the manager,
"... but Claire has been involved a car accident on her way to work"
She's persistent: "But I always have Claire, shit! why wasn't I told?"
I hear the manager's voice calm and reassuring.
"It happened this morning, we couldn't reach your mobile and your PA said you had already left"
"Shit - now what am I going to do?"
I peek out of my room. She's standing there facing the manager. Her back is turned to me but I catch my breath.
Her hair, worn long, gleams as it falls down past her shoulders, my eyes move down, past her tight silk shirt to her bum, perfectly displayed in tight satin combat pants. Her hands rest aggressively on her hips and as she shifts the weight her bum cheeks move sensually beneath the thin fabric.
The manager catches sight of me and says something quietly. The beautiful hair starts to turn and one of the most famous faces in the world looks angrily in my direction.
The manager leads her over talking in her reassuring way.
"Sadie is one of London's leading masseurs. I'm sure you'll find her every bit as expert as Claire"
I'm looking nervous but I expect she's used to that in all the people she meets for the first time.
She's looking unimpressed. But the manager continues, delivering what she considers will be the most persuasive argument.
"Sadie has many other famous clients: Kate...Naomi...Gwyneth...and Britney books her solid whenever she's in town"
The beautiful eyes soften. She looks at her watch. Her luscious lips part into a hint of a smile. She looks at me, stares into my eyes, sees something she likes and then speaks:
"Ok, lets go"
She brushes past me into my small treatment room and I close the door She walks over to the table and leans provocatively against it.
Her lips are moist and gleaming. She folds her arms under her tits and her nipples press through her silk shirt. Her tight pants enhance her long legs and as she moves the fabric is caught suggestively in the V of her crotch. She speaks, in a rather teasing manner:
"OK Sadie, Claire knows what I like, how about you?"