Over the next two months, the massage therapy and training had gone exceptionally well. As expected, Jane had returned to her sleek, self-confident self. First Jim, and then a happy Harry smoothed away her tension points and let her relax and stretch out. Harry proved to be not as talented a masseur as Jim or Dr. Anderson, but Jane found his massage effective, and Jim could see the results. They all four got into the diet, exercise and stretching Dr. Anderson had prescribed. They were all in fact as healthy and gorgeous as they had ever been. When fellow dancers in the modern dance company she had rejoined, both male and female, noticed her improvement, and how could they not, Jim found himself steady work as a massage therapist, albeit unlicensed in New York. They paid him surprisingly well, and the family of some of the wealthy young dancers were becoming clients as well.
The only sexual massages would be with Connie. She was sure she was the only one Joe massaged where the massage and sex were involved together, and that helped assuage any jealousy she might have at him touching all those beautiful bodies. When Jim was training Harry, he would let Harry work on Connie those times when she was around. He wanted her to feel what the real massage was about. He noticed Harry's hard on when he worked on that exquisite body, and it always made him smile. Connie still insisted Jim's massage was much more therapeutic, but made it clear he shouldn't get any ideas for using his particular technique on her with anyone else.
"I won't," he said as he fucked her into another blissful climax.
In order for Jim to provide massages to his new clients and to Connie in private he needed another table. By the end of the first month of Jim's stay in New York, a permanent table had been custom built in Woodstock. Connie was the one who figured out what he needed to do. She had told Jim Woodstock was the most likely place to find the right carpenter to construct what he wanted.
A couple of Saturdays after they had met, they took off upstate to a friend of hers. An old boyfriend. In more ways then one. He was ten years older. They had had an affair, he being married. He was still married, and his wife wasn't around that weekend.
Eric was a good looking man. Short and well put together physically, neither thin nor stout, with a pleasant handsome face. Jim could see Eric and Connie made a lovely couple. He noticed they had an attraction for each other still, especially Eric. Eric had done good business with the local real estate, eventually broadening his base all around the Hudson Valley. His wife was a potter, and a very good one as could be seen by the many pots beautifully displayed all through the lovely simple two story rural house they lived in. She was off hocking her wares at another arts and crafts festival, a common event in the summer. So being so available at that moment in time only excited Eric more.
Being a long time resident of Woodstock proved immensely helpful. He knew a great carpenter, not a friend, but a person who had crafted some magnificent furniture, the best Eric had ever seen. Eric took Jim and Connie to Don's studio, and they could see what he meant. There was great care taken with every detail of his tables and chairs and benches. The wood was beautifully stained and had great grain. The furniture was simple and utilitarian but had a grace to the shaping, a soft flow. Jim wasn't looking for a great piece of furniture. Pure practicality was more what he had envisioned. He thought differently once he'd encountered Don's work. And, by and large, cost wasn't a factor.
Being a tough old cuss, Don's reluctance was clear. Jim described what he needed, providing a sketch showing dimensions. The hole in the top part of the table for the head. The padding needed. Adjustable heights. Storage space below. Don's gruffness never cut Jim off, which encouraged Jim. By the end of Jim's description, Don was giving him a half shake of the head. Still no, but with a maybe in there somewhere.
"What would it take to convince you to do it?"
"Two thousand five hundred."
"Wow," said Eric and Connie simultaneously. They looked at each other and shared a sexy smile.
"I want it in a week."
"Two weeks and three thousand," Don said gruffly, studying the drawing.
"Deal." They shook. Don's hand was bigger and by far rougher than Jim's big hand, and Jim could feel the older man's strength, but it was a gentle shake. "Do you have a phone?"
When Don guided him into his house, the gruffness was gone, and a kindness twinkled in his eyes. Jim called Vic with the news. She was happy to cable the money. Don wasn't sure where to cable it, so Jim sat the phone down to talk to Eric, still in the studio. He saw Eric pawing Connie's ass as they separated from a kiss. Jim was instantly hard. Eric was surprised and embarrassed, but when Connie noticed the bulge, she smiled at Jim and pinched Eric's ass.
"Uh, do you know a Western Union in town," asked Jim, looking more at Connie than Eric, revealing his sudden sexual intoxication.
"Yeah, the same building as my shop there's a travel agency that's got Western Union." Eric went through his wallet and found the business card.
"Could you tell my, uh, partner on the phone?" said Jim, and watched him enter Don's home. Why didn't he say girlfriend or lover. She was his partner. It wasn't exactly a euphemism. Still, the other words might have encouraged him to continue playing with Connie.
"Jealous?" Connie asked, stroking Jim's club, rising up on her toes to kiss him. "Or something else."
"A little of both," he said between kisses. "Mostly something else." The second kiss was more lustful as she jumped into his hands holding her ass. His hands pushed her cunny against his club and rubbed there.
"I'm so fucking horny," she whispered into his ear.
"Me too," he said. He let her down gently. She pinched his cock through his pants. He was on full display and didn't care, which always stirred her up more.
Driving back to Eric's house, Connie sat between the two men. While tormenting Jim's cock as subtly as possible, she would brush her arm across Eric's leg, touching his inner thigh as delicately as a wind gust. Jim knew she was giving as much of a thrill to Eric as he was getting and with similar results.
Once inside, she told Eric, "Why don't you take the first shower. Jim and I need to talk." She brought Jim up to the guest room, which shared a narrow wall with Eric's bedroom. The sleeping arrangements had officially left Jim downstairs on the sofa with Connie occupying the single bed in the guest room which unfortunately was too narrow for the two of them. While Eric showered, Connie unzipped Jim's massive club, releasing it from its painful confines, and slowly took it into her mouth.
