Tales of the Night (MATURE)

A Massage Gone Terribly Right

"Aspen Ravens."

With a jerk of my head, I smile at the employee that called my name. Scrambling to gather my things, I follow her through the dim hallway. We stopped in front of a wooden door.

"This is a changing room. There is a robe in there for you to change into. When you're ready, your room is down the hall. The door is marked with a P." The employee informs me.

Smiling once more at them, I bid them goodbye as I walk into the changing room and make quick work of stripping off my clothing. Glancing around the posh changing room, I spot a cotton robe hanging on the back of the door. Pulling the robe on, I sigh at the soft material. I abandoned my clothes in a locker and found the room I'm in.

With a soft click! the door closes behind me. I strip off the robe and lay down on the table. My hands grab the towel that is meant to cover me and pull the material over my exposed part.

As I lay there, the calming aura of the room soothes my tense mood. Suddenly, a deep voice speaks. "Hello, Aspen. I'm Thorn. I'll be your masseuse today."

Lifting my head from the table, my brows furrowed in confusion. I remember requesting a female masseuse. My eyes search the room — to voice my concerns — when I find the man in question.

Any word I had planned on saying was quickly stuck in my throat as I took in the man in front of me. His piercing steel eyes alone had me swallowing thickly. As my eyes quickly eye fuck the man, I have flashes of his head between my legs with his stubble scraping my inner thighs.

Fuck!

With a flicker of my eyes, they widen when I realize he stands taller than the door behind him. Another thick swallow frees my voice, though it is still breathy and weak as I gasp, "I thought I had a woman?"

"Oh, well," his large biceps flexes as he rubs the back of his neck. "You were." His eyes look apologetic as he explains. "You were supposed to have Harley, but she called in sick. And I'm the only available person at the moment to cover for her." I shift and press my thighs together as his thick accent rolls over me. "Is that okay, Aspen?"

"Um..." I cough to clear my throat. "That's fine." I lay back down as he moved around the room, getting ready. "Thorn?"

"Hmm?" Came his grunt of a reply, causing me to shift my lower half again.

"Is it-" I cough again. "'Scuse me. Is it possible to put on some music?"

"Definitely." A moment later a deep bass-filled song fills the room. "Okay?"

"Yep, thanks."

"M'pleasure." A few moments pass. "Please lay on your stomach."

With modesty, he helps me roll onto my stomach. An opening of a bottle sounds before something cold touches my back. Jumping from the sudden coldness, a shiver runs down my spine.

"Just oil." If it was even possible, his voice was deeper and huskier.

As I feel his hands on my back, I can't help the chills that run rampant through my body. It has been a while since I've felt the hands of a man. He makes his way slowly towards my neck, kneading my shoulders. Inhaling deeply, I feel him move down my arms at a snail's pace. He's then going back up to my shoulders. Spending time massaging my shoulders, he works out the kinks and stress. His hands then abandoned my lax shoulders.

I can feel him moving lower and lower, away from my shoulder blades, before settling on the dip of my back. Readjusting his hands, his thumbs now dig into my back and circle while adding more pressure. With a quiet gasp, I feel myself growing wetter down under. My breathing is now more erratic as his touch hypnotizes me.