Mum gives her son his birthday wish.
Hesitantly, I open the door and Jackson is standing there, a stack of fresh white towels in hand. I noticed his eyes widen a bit as he looked me over, and only then did I realize I was wearing the robe. I was decently covered, but there was something about the glint in his eye as he was staring at me that made me feel uncomfortable, as if I were naked!
My head was swimming with hot, giddy rushes of lust and it was all I could do to avoid making eye contact with him, and we stood in front of each other for what felt like an hour. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that I realized he was holding the towels out to me, and even after I took them he stayed at the door, still watching me. "Are you enjoying your stay so far?", he ventured. Without waiting for an answer, he stepped into the room and surveyed it, spying the empty wine bottle on the table. "I see you're out of wine... I'll need to bring you some more."
I desperately wanted to say something to him, but being so close to him left me flustered and bashful. He had this playful, subtly teasing aura about him... he was the kind of man that could show a woman a hell of a good time and then crush her heart into a hundred pieces. I knew guys like him, and I knew them well enough to avoid them too. Even still, every time I looked at him I could feel every nerve in my body vibrating, and my legs would shake so badly I could barely stand. In an effort to cut through the awkward silence, I blurted out the first thing I came to mind.
"Are there any good massage parlors around here?" Does that make me sound like a pervert or something? "Just because I'm really sore from moving all that equipment around downstairs and...". When his twinkling eyes met mine, I could feel my throat seize up, and he shot me a quick smile. "There's a couple around here... but you know, I'm a massage therapist." I must have looked quite surprised, because he held up his hands in a gesture of humble defense. "I'm certified and everything! Really!". I heard myself giggle nervously, as if I weren't even in my own body.
"You're a concierge and a massage therapist?"
"Well, I don't plan on working here forever... and besides,", Jackson murmured as he slowly walked towards me, "It's definitely a service that makes people happy., and that's what I'm here for.". I nearly choked on air when he said that. The lascivious tone of his voice implied a much deeper, darker meaning than his words let on. He was standing so close to me know that our feet were nearly touching, and yet I couldn't stop staring at him... nowhere in particular, as if my eyes couldn't decide what they wanted to gawk at first. He was wearing much the same thing he wore a week ago, with his shirt unbuttoned a little at the top. There was something about that one little concession to his otherwise professional dress that I found exhilarating. I was so caught up in the moment that I realized I was leaning against the back of the couch and had no means of gracefully slipping away. Jackson rested his left hand lightly on the back of the couch, just inches from my hip, and braced himself on it as he leaned in slightly closer to me, gazing intently into my eyes.
"So how about it?"
I was utterly speechless, but as if I were being controlled by an unseen force, I nodded my head. I am really going to regret doing this!!
His right hand gently stroked my arm, tugging playfully at the sleeve of my bathrobe as he turned around and headed for the bedroom.