I woke up today with hard wood. At my age it's not that usual. Against all odds, I eat well, sleep well, stresses well. I reached for Mrs Player to see if her school girl pyjama was on. But all I reached was a pillow in between, meaning out of bounds.
When I have guest that doesn't know each other well, when they see the master bedroom, I think the wives want to swap. Not wife swapping, but want to be in Mrs Player's shoes, literally. They want to linger a bit more at the door and wander a little inside with some excuses. Of course I only notice the highly fuckable ones because I pay attention.
It's a huge queen bed in a decent sized bedroom with on suit bathroom. A huge Mrs Player's wedding picture high up on the wall. On one side there is a ceiling to wall wardrobe. Overflood the wardrobes are Mrs Players clothing allowances - a rack of shoes, a rack of outfits, even bags, all trust fund worthy stuff. Some wives want to masturbate there and then if not having an organism.
From my experience with women (haha!), it's about what to put up with to get what they want. From what they told me, and my guess work, the worst are fat pigs on top of you, bad breath or simply don't brush teeth enough, denture not cleaned properly. Hair and skin flaking out.
Simply by not overweight (with well hidden love handles), no need to turn away with eyes open when making love, lots of hair, allowing what Mrs Player do what she pleases in the master bedroom, everybody rather sleep with me instead.
The other day I had time to kill. Of course I though of massage, that's addictive. But out of action for a while, finding a good massage AND THEN a good fuck is really difficult. Not even a compromise if I want to. I can't easily get through screening all of a sudden. That saved me a lot of money by not getting what I want.
I vaguely have a solution for time killing if not anything else. I just happened to drive through a massage joint, that was always there for as long as I remembered. I never went inside as I never heard of anybody talk about it. The area and the strip mall isn't promising in any sense. But I have nothing much to lose.
I went in, saw a half hour promotion at the door. It could mean anything. I was surprised the joint is one of the clinically clean ones. A mature woman greeted me. She is not old and overweight. Still attractive in a way. She passed.
My heart sank a little when I see that the rooms have a salon door. Haven't encountered that for long time. It's worse because the room is really small, just big enough for a massage table and no more. Anybody walked pass is like walking pass your feet, naked.
My hundred dollar bill came back as a lot of changes on the chair, started working its magic. It was a really good massage and she was into it. She whispered in my ear to see if I wanted the full hour. Usual stuff. I decided to disappoint her but changed my mind at the last minute. Really I have only one hour to kill and I may have to go earlier.
Just to be naughty, I put my hand on her bottom when I told her I want to complete the hour. At her age she is not shy and I don't get too much sanctification on her jean covered ass.
It was even better because she worked hard for her next appointment. She jumped on bed, did the feet massage, and leg joint massage, but not trying to sex me up. She had no intention to.
Then I touched myself under the towel. That was my vague plan. In the past I refused to touch myself even though some joints are designed for that, with cheer leaders outfit, but you can't touch them nor they touch you there. I rather enjoy the eye candy and stimulating massage and then go somewhere next for hardcore sex.
There are times when I gave up and touch myself, the woman went as far as possible and gave me a scalp massage!
When she knew for sure I was touching myself, she hesitated for a moment and then said, like a little girl in a soft girly voice, "what are you doing?" At the same time she pressed something, must be a warning light.
I retreated with with a wicked smile on my face as if I just did a prank. She kept on the massage as if nothing happened. After a while, I knew she would come to her senses and know that I am no trouble. The massage is more intimate without sexing me up.
Then I put my hand under the tower again. If not for the salon doors I would have pulled the towel. After the initial chaos, she actually helped along. She would massage as far as my tights would go and not touching anything else. She would also rub my chest sensually while blocking the door with her body.
When I came she gave me a lot of towels to clean up and asked me to throw them all on the ground so she didn't need to touch them.
One more thing. She wanted to compliment my feet while massaging it. For what I could tell she was holding it like having an oral fixation. She couldn't find the word probably she knew it's wrong to say it's beautiful, and can't find another word. At the end she said firm and ended the topic hastily that she started.
For the background, I developed very tough skin at the heels since the swimming season last summer. I decided to do something about it recently so it was like coming out of a foot spa most of the time. On top of that since I don't walk that much, I discovered I developed quite some clean pretty nails without realising it, on in-good-shape long toes.
