I had glanced over to Jen where she lay on the other massage table, wondering if she was getting similar attentions. I could see that she was biting her lower lip slightly but hadn’t been able to focus much on it because Marie had asked me to flip so she could do my back. I had been a bit embarrassed to realise I was disappointed she hadn’t continued to massage lower under the thong.
I shifted slightly where I sat on the step leading to the bathtub, remembering her hands on my buttocks and thighs. I recalled thinking she had spent a lot of time rubbing the lotion into my inner thighs, brushing against the thin fabric of the thong. She had used long firm strokes along my butt cheeks and had casually moved aside the string of the underwear to caress along the line of my ass, even brushing my outer labia. I had held perfectly still, conscious that we were not alone in the room and having no idea of her intentions. I remembered thinking that she had to be aware how wet I was getting and wondering how far this was going to go, when she had pressed her lotion-covered thumb against my anus. She had rubbed gently, her other hand continuing to stroke teasingly up my inner thigh, and I couldn’t believe how erotic it was. I found myself hoping she would move her fingers to my clit, which was aching for some attention. My hips had risen involuntarily in a tacit request.
Just when I thought my wishes might be fulfilled, I had heard Jen’s aesthetician ask how she was feeling. Marie removed her hands from where they had been teasing me for one last caress along my back and she echoed the question, though in French.
“Très bien, merci,” I had responded shakily, my heart thumping with my arousal. She gave me instructions to take my time before sitting up, to drink a large glass of water, and that she would see me tomorrow for the scheduled facial. I found myself wondering if that too would hold some surprises.
I dragged myself back to the present where Tracy was recounting a hilarious description of her waxing this afternoon. She had opted for a full bikini wax and in apparently typical Tracy fashion, she was comfortable sharing all the gory details.
“She had a trainee with her and asks me if I’m okay with her observing. What am I supposed to say? No – I don’t want a hot busty 22 year old redhead staring intently at my cunt from six inches away while this gorgeous other woman rips my pubic hair from the roots?” She emptied the last of the wine into her own glass and stood to get a fresh bottle – red this time.
“I told her of course I don’t mind – I’m easy,” she continued with a wry grin.
“But not cheap,” Jen interjected quickly, smiling at her friend as she passed her the corkscrew.
“Never that,” Tracy agreed with a wink. “Has anyone else noticed that all the workers here are incredibly attractive? Or maybe it’s just me,” she mused.
She had a point, I considered. Though maybe it’s just the relaxing environs – the quiet refuge up in the mountains, the bubbling of the accompanying river lending atmosphere to the setting. One can’t help but feel contented, setting everything in a more positive light.