Sleeping and waking up

It was short night. I woke up several times and I simply lay there, listening to his faint snoring, trying not to move too much in order not to wake him up. I felt the most unusual tenderness for him, and I could not find an explanation. I felt as if I wanted to protect him, while he was sleeping. I was curled around him and he still held my hand close to his heart. There was something so vulnerable about him, even if he never really try to project that type of image. On the contrary, he loved to picture himself as smart, cultured, but effective manager, crazy about golf and racing motorcycles. To me, he looked as a middle aged man, a bit chubby, with gray hair, thick hands and a surprisingly well shaped bottom – but there was  something immature about him, like a teenager friskiness that I found charming – and exciting.

Maybe I succeeded to fall asleep around  5 o’clock, but he had set an alarm at 6. He had a training or a meeting in a different hotel and since his colleagues were also there, he had to go back before breakfast. I really didn’t feel like getting out of bed. He stopped the alarm, then he turn to kiss me. Oh, I have some goodbyes to give, he said, while sliding down my neck, to my breast, to my belly... but I didn’t let him go on for long – I made him turn on his back and i mounted on him. I also had some goodbyes to say in my own way. He didn’t offer much resistance and just let me set the pace...

When it was over, he finally left the bed,  complaining and feeling a bit guilty, because all his early wakeup didn’t really sort out as he expected. He got out of the bedroom to gather his clothes from the sofa and floor, he dressed up quickly and we could only kiss once before he slipped out of the suite.

Jacuzzi

We took the lift to the suite that the hotel kindly let me use. Already in the lift, I had evidence that Curtis was really in the mood. It was lucky that the lift was particularly fast, but even luckier that the walk from the lift to the suite was very short. We almost run, we couldn’t wait to let our clothes fly. The Jacuzzi was already full, we entered the water and waited for the bubble to start.

At first we just looked at each other, at the two opposite sides of the round tub: we almost kept distant in disbelief of the strength  of the desire we both felt.  Curtis finally crossed the tub and started massaging my shoulders. He spoke softly, soothingly, he kissed my neck, nibbling me  gently. I could feel his hands caressing my arms, then my breasts, pinching me naughtily from time to time (and this made me really wild)... then his fingers where just circling around my navel, then shifted lower... I held my breath, while his lips were whispering senseless words at my ears and his finger were gently exploring... I turned to him, I push him against the side of the tub and kissed him. I loved his eager way of kissing. The rest followed very naturally: I sat on him and started moving very, very slowly. He kept talking, but the logic of his sentences was not so apparent anymore. He kept repeating how my skin was changing while we made love, I couldn’t feel it at all, but he kept saying, Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel it? It was his mantra, and his voice became more acute, I dare say, younger, as I started moving faster and faster and faster... when everything was over, we didn’t dare to move – we were both surprised, we looked at each other as if we were meeting for the first time. We got out of the jacuzzi, he helped me to dry and then we went straight to the bedroom and fell asleep, while he clutched my hand to his (pretty hairy) chest.

Narrow eyes

The following night, Curtis appeared very early. The bar was empty, so I could not ignore him or pretend to be awfully busy with someone else. I expected him to be a bit angry at me, or at least despondent. Instead he came to me with a broad smile, that made his eyes narrower. I love narrow eyes: they have something naughty, if not evil, that always intrigued me.

He started his usual polite routine conversation: a nice compliment for the dress, then about the way I wore it, he inquired about my work, always avoiding my private life. We talked casually about the bar and the busy season at the hotel. He hardly ever offered any information about himself, but that night he spoke about his grown up son, about his daughter, still at high school, about his parents, who divorced when he was only a child. He was charming, and witty, and sometime he looked genuinely sad. I tried as I could to steer away from the sensitive topics. Of course we had a couple of drinks and we got closer. He caressed my arms, in his own special way. I liked that, he really could turn me on with that simple gesture. No, he was not angry at me, not at all.

The evening passed on, he asked sometimes about me, I answered only when I felt it appropriate. I didn’t want him to become too intimate. I know it sounds strange, given what already happened just two nights before, but after all he had tipped me very generously for that massage, it was a business transaction, nothing to do with my private self.

Still, Curtis had a way of chatting that I found irresistible. He was funny, but in a smart way. He never insulted me, as many customers do even without noticing. Just because I work  in a bar and sometime I like mercenary sex, I am neither stupid, nor ignorant . I had a good education, although I decided not to use it for my job. So we could have a significant conversation, although I felt compelled to make him feel much more intelligent than me. Men usually like that – and I find exciting seeing them basking in my admiration.

It was almost time to close, we were still chatting and laughing and drinking. I really felt hot. “What do you think of a Jacuzzi, Curtis?” I asked suddenly. He opened his eyes, surprised. Before he could say anything, I stood up, waiting for him to follow me.

Relieved

I felt much better after the massage... things added up again, they made sense again. Curtis was just another customer, no better, no worse. I knew how to handle him, he was nice company, but nothing more. I felt relieved by this notion.
I spent the rest of the night and a good part of the morning in my bed, recharging myself. I mentally reviewed the outfit for the night at work: a very short, very red, very shiny dress, that left my back completely naked. No way to wear underwear with such dress and this simplified the rest: my beautiful, terribly high, strapped sandals would be the only necessary accessory. I wanted to be the star of The Fish Bowl.
I was already in a very good mood when Curtis enter the bar, that evening. He sat at the counter, ordered a drink and started looking in my direction, hoping to attract my attention. I ignored him, laughing a bit too loud and getting very close to the fat American that seemed very taken by my neck.
Curtis kept drinking, starting to look very tired and a bit sad. I kept an eye on him, while pouring more bourbon in the glass of the fat guy. I did everything to show that I was having a very good time. I had to  fight a bit, because the huge hands of my customers seemed to reach everywhere. I got distracted by the umpteenth attack to my thighs: I gave in just for a second, a little prize for the fat guy, who was very excited and sweating copiously. I looked at the end of the counter, Curtis was not there anymore. Oh. Maybe the massage the night before had taken too much of his sleep... or maybe he didn't like the fact that I was not taking him into consideration. What did he expect? I work here, didn't he know?

Business as usual?

Yes, everything went very well. Curtis definitely knew how to kiss and what to do to please me - he seemed very attentive and very passionate at the same time. Nevertheless I could lead the game as I wanted - I was the masseuse after all, so from time to time I would remind him that he had to lie down still and try to enjoy the treatment... but he didn't really listened. I found his eagerness charming. But it was a massage, not a night together, so when he seemed appropriately exhausted, I simply disappeared in the adjacent room and dressed myself. At that point, I just wanted a shower and a good sleep.
Curtis was gathering his clothes, clumsily trying to put them on, but he wasn't really hurrying up. He looked at me and smiled, a bit embarassed. He evidently didn't know what to say. I felt strangely excited by his attitude...he seemed suddenly like a guilty teenager who just had his first time - and definitely that hadn't been the case. Shall I find you at the bar again tonight? he asked. I just nodded. I wasn't sure though I wanted to be so available...

Just a massage

Curtis followed me without saying a word. The spa was dark, the jacuzzi empty, but as I proposed a massage, Curtis nodded enthusiastically. He was breathing harder, but still didn't say anything. He started undressing, looking at me, and I did the same.
He lay on the massage bed, and stared very tense at ceiling, waiting. I started talking to him, very soothingly and very softly, explaining that I am pretty good with massage and that most of my customers love my treatments. He tried to keep a casual tone of voice. Really? I am sure you must be very competent...
I paused for a second. Oh, sure, I am especially good in the Thai body massage, although it's a bit messy. He raised his head and looked at me quizzically. Yes, because first I have to oil my whole body and then use all my limbs to massage the patient. I could see he was getting quite interested in the topic. The only problem is that most of the times my customers cannot really relax when I slide up and down, over their body. I could hear Curtis gulping, but struggling to keep perfectly still. Oh, indeed? He pretended not to understand what I meant, but I had visual evidence that he had a very clear idea. I kept oiling myself, while Curtis tried to keep his eyes on the ceiling. Then I climbed over his body and started to massage him, very slowly. Everything went very well. Very well indeed.

Look who's back...

I felt very excited by my new flat – so I put much more energy in my work. I even invested some money in some new clothes, but especially in some very elegant high heel sandals... so much money for so little leather!

I was looking complacently at the very crowded room, when someone tapped on my shoulder. It was Curtis. He was suntanned, and he wore in an informal way. Maybe he had lost some weight and he had a very relaxed, very open smile. It was a strange moment for me: I felt so happy to see him! But I didn't want to show him how I happy I was, and this felt even stranger. We started talking, he was so kind and warm! He sounded genuinely interested in me, we laughed, we drank, we spent the whole evening chatting. He told funny stories about himself and his passion for golf, just some hints about his “selling” job... it was a delightful evening. When the last customer left the bar (together with Kim), we suddenly fell silent and he became very serious. He looked at me, as if waiting for something to happen. It felt very natural to take his hand and lead him to the hotel spa, that was closed, so late in the night...