//DISCLAIMER: This story (including its characters) is 100% fictional.
I stood outside the door nervously. Rain pittered on my umbrella in a cyclic rhythm, as if trying to calm my nerves. On the road behind me, lines of cars crawled slowly through red lights, honking and squealing their tires every so often. The door in front of me was a small, black wooden door embedded into brick wall and sandwiched between two stores in the middle of downtown. Looking up, I saw a small balcony with iron railings and a glimmer of lights in the apartment. It looked modern, nice. I sighed.
About two weeks ago, I had mentioned to a colleague of mine that I was experiencing tightness in my neck and shoulders, and general soreness all over my body. I had recently started regularly training for long-distance running, with the hopes of competing in a marathon the following year, and while I enjoyed the high I got while I was jogging through beautiful parts of the woods and around lakes, it often left me spent and unbelievably stiff the next day.
"I know just the thing for you," my colleague, Kim, had said when I explained my situation to her. She wrote down a name and number of a piece of paper she pulled out of the recycling by her desk and slid it over to me. "Just call him. He's a masseuse, and his hands do absolute wonders."
I had never had a professional massage before, always being more on the ticklish side of things. In fact, I rarely accepted massages from anyone. I had had past relationships with partners who would always offer, and I would let them maybe once or twice, but mostly I declined because I simply felt strange about having someone else touch my body in such an intimate way. This was odd, considering I had no problem with sex or cuddling or kissing, but massages posed a certain threat it seemed to my mind more than anything else.
However, with my sheer determination to run a marathon, I knew I couldn't slack off in my training and my body was paying the price having not done much serious exercise for the majority of its life. I came to the decision that I had to do something if I wanted to keep running as frequently as I did, so I phoned the number one day when I got back from work.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Ben? My name is Olivia, and I just got your number from a friend at work."
"Oh, Olivia, hey! Yeah, Kim's told me about you. What can I do for you?"
I briefly wondered what Kim had discussed about me with this Ben, and for a minute, I felt slightly
uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, she just mentioned that you were a masseuse and I recently started running which seems to have made my muscles tense up, so I was just wondering your rates?" I cringed at how awkward I always sounded on the phone.
"Of course. I charge $100 an hour for a full-body massage, but because you're Kim's friend I can get you in for $50."
Any unease I had previously felt about Kim discussing me with this guy vanished, and was immediately replaced with gratitude. "Really? That'd be amazing."
Ben laughed, and I couldn't help but note how sexy it sounded. "Yeah, no problem. What's your availability like?"
"I'm booked up for this week, and most of next. Maybe the Friday after that?"
"The 21st?"
"Yeah, the 21st would work for me."
"Consider yourself booked."
I took a deep breath. "Is there anything I should know about.. um.. massages, I guess, in general? I've just never had a professional massage before."
"No worries. I'll give you the basic run-down. I work out of a makeshift studio in my apartment, which is downtown. All the oils and lotions I use are natural, organic, and most of them are vegan. I worked at a massage clinic for around two years before deciding to switch to more freelance work, since I wanted more freedom with my schedule to pursue other interests. Hmm, oh, when you show up at the door, just ring the doorbell and I'll come right down. Maybe you already know this, but sometimes newcomers don't realize that full-body massages are often done nude. If you feel uncomfortable, you can always keep your clothes on, however, I don't recommend this as you won't get nearly as much out of the massage. You can also request to be covered with a towel, if that helps."
I swallowed. I knew that I would probably have to be naked for the massage, and this blunt confirmation of that fact triggered slight anxiety. "Right," I said. "Cool. Cool. Alright, well, I'll see you on Friday then."
"Alright, Olivia. Well, it was nice talking to you. Let me know if you have any more questions."
"Thanks, I will. Bye." I ended the call.
And now, standing outside of Ben's apartment in the drizzling rain, a shiver ran through me as I realized I would have to strip naked in front of a man I had only ever talked to once. Fear coursed through my veins, but I also detected something else, faint but there. As scary as it was, I was also the tiniest bit excited to try something so out of my comfort zone.
I rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later, Ben opened the door. He was 5'8 or so, with curly dark brown hair and warm brown eyes, with light freckles splashed across his nose. Athletically built, but still slim and not bulky.
"Hi, welcome," he said, motioning for me to come inside and follow him up the stairs. "It's raining pretty hard out there, hey?"
"Eh, it's not too bad," I replied. "I feel like if you live in this city, you just have to get used to it."
He smiled as he turned the key in the door to his apartment. "Fair enough." He opened the door and I peered in from behind him.
It was a small enough place, but very open. He had set up a bamboo divider in the middle of the room, sectioning off an area where he placed the massage table and a tray table with various oils and lotions. The apartment itself was filled with light, even on such an overcast day, as there were three nearly floor to ceiling windows overlooking the street below. The bamboo divider sat between the windows and the massage table, blocking any view from the street.
I walked in behind him, staring in awe in every direction. "Wow, this place is amazing."
"Thanks, I think so too. I can't believe I found it, and the price I'm paying for it isn't too bad either." He pointed to a door on my right. "The bathroom is just there, and there's a towel you can wrap around yourself. Take as long as you'd like; there's no rush." He smiled at me, and I swear for a moment I felt my knees weaken.
He walked away from me toward a small stereo on a chair to the left of the set-up. I left him to put on some music and stepped into the bathroom.
The bathroom, like the rest of the apartment, was white and simple, with gorgeous quartz countertops and a modern glass shower. A ceramic humidifier on a cupboard spewed puffs of fog into the air along with the sweet aroma of lavender. Looking into the mirror, I took a deep breath. 'Everything is going to be okay,' I thought to myself. 'It's just a massage.' I began to strip out of my clothes, and, not knowing where to put them, I left them folded neatly beside the sink.
I decided by body wasn't too bad after all. I had never been on very good terms with it, and usually prefer to cover it up and keep my flaws hidden, but after inspecting myself in the mirror, I realized it could be much worse. My c-cup breasts were full and spherical, with equally full nipples poking straight out. My waist curved in nicely above my hips, and although my legs were short, they were toned. The only thing that could use some work was my ass, which was virtually nonexistent. Some past partners specifically liked my "small butt" but to me it just looked painfully flat.
I grabbed the white towel on the towel rack and wrapped it above my chest, then opened the door back into Ben's flat.
Ben had moved from the stereo to the tray table where he was organizing the lotions and oils. He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open, and motioned with his head for me to come over and lie down on the table. I walked over briskly, shivering at the cold air hitting my skin.
I lay flat on the table, stomach down and head to the side so my ear was resting against the padding. Ben moved from the tray table and came to stand right beside me.
"I'm just going to lower your towel to your waist. Just let me know if anything I do makes you uncomfortable or hurts or if you want to stop at any time," he said, quietly.
I nodded, a bit too anxious to speak, and closed my eyes. I felt him pulling the white towel from under me and folding it back so that everything down to my lower back was exposed. Again, I shivered.
He chuckled. "Cold, hey?"
"Yeah," I murmured into the table.
"Here, this should warm you back up."
I heard him rubbing his palms together quickly, and then felt blissfully warm oil being drizzled down my spine. He capped the bottle with a *snap* and then I felt his hands rubbing the slick oil across my skin.
He started with my shoulders, using his palms to work the oil in and loosen the tense muscles around my neck. It felt like heaven; I could see why Kim recommended him in a heartbeat. He found a rhythm that gently worked my back like waves lapping at the shore, and with each exhale, I found myself slipping into a deeper and deeper tranquil peacefulness.
