It was a brisk September morning in Philadelphia. The wind called softly through the trees and the leaves of fall scattered along the drive. Samantha had started her day just like any other, she had her morning run and then she raced home to shower before her appointment. Before her shower she admired herself in the mirror. She was an exceptional beauty with long, straight, brown hair that reached her mid-back. She had a very athletic body with perky c-cup breasts and her skin was a fine tan brown.
She had been feeling exceptionally tense since her recent break up with her boyfriend of six months, Andrew. Their splitting had been a nasty one after she had discovered him in bed with one of her closest friends. She was trying to forget all that now. She was starting to think of herself and trying to participate in activities that would boost her self-esteem and relax her anxiety-ridden body. She had scheduled a massage for later on that day at the "Palms of Relaxation Massage Parlor" with a masseuse who had come recommended highly by a close friend. She finished up her morning routine, grabbed her bag, and headed out to the parlor. The breeze was stiff outside her small cottage home and her long brown hair whipped in her face as she struggled to get to her car.
She arrived at the parlor 10 minutes before her scheduled appointment and proceeded to wait in the lounge until the receptionist called her in. Since she had a few minutes to wait, she decided to use that opportunity to fix her wind-blown hair and to apply her candy apple lip balm. Her fingers dipped into the balm and she slowly ran her finger over her lips, smacking them together and thickly coating them with sweet nectar. When she was done, she proceeded to lick the residue off of the tip of her finger. Just as she was sucking the last bits of candy apple off of her fingertip, the receptionist called her into the room.
"Samantha? Right this way dear."
The receptionist beckoned her into a dark room that was filled with the sounds of trickling water and ethereal music. The walls were covered with images of people meditating and on the far wall hung a diploma that read:
Allison Collins Certified Massage Therapist
"Ali will be with you in just a minute, Sam, in the meantime why don't you go ahead and take your clothes off and go ahead and lie down on the table. You'll find sheets to cover you over there."
The receptionist closed the door and Samantha had a quick look around before disrobing. She lifted her shirt over her head and unsnapped her sheer white bra. She noticed that her nipples were hard…it must have been really cold in the room. Embarrassed, she rubbed them with the palms of her hand, hoping that they would recede before the masseuse arrived. She unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her hips; her black satin thong soon followed. She sat herself on the table and waited patiently for her masseuse to arrive. In less than five minutes there was a knock on the door.
"Samantha Stewart, I presume?" Ali questioned. She was a tall woman with long, curly, red hair and a pale complexion. She was not as athletic as Samantha, but she was not unfit.
"That's me!" Sam replied in her most excited voice, biting her lower lip in anticipation. She was really looking forward to a little rest and relaxation.
"My name is Allison Collins, but you can call me Ali. I'm here to make your life a little easier and more relaxed with a little deep tissue work." she smiled.
Samantha watched Ali cross the room and wash her hands at the small sink located in the corner. Then she watched her apply oil to her hands as the smell of eucalyptus filled the room.
"We'll go ahead and start on your back. Lie face down on the table and just try to relax." Ali said.
