Road RashChapter 6
- 2 years ago
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Three weeks later.
Time: Sunday, May 4, 2008 6:20 PM
Melanie and I had been spending the weekend helping Patricia move into new apartment in Back Bay. Her new job starts tomorrow. She was currently taking a shower after a hard afternoon of work with me unpacking boxes and moving furniture around. It's a one-bedroom apartment, small but in a great location for her, less than a mile from her work.
I "tuned" her apartment while we worked, quietly think-cleaning the stove and refrigerator and rugs, oiling the hinges on the doors, repairing some minor cracks in the tiles and grout in the bathroom, making a bunch of nicks and scratches disappear before Patricia could see them. The apartment looks great now.
Unfortunately Patricia found that the apartment AC was not working before I could get to it. While she was showering, I gave it my world-class treatment. I not only repaired the broken compressor, I improved it, upgrading the alloy of the steel, machining the tolerances of the rings. Then I strengthened the hoses and cleaned the condenser grill, recharged the depleted coolant, and made all the dirt in the air ducts disappear. Finally I turned it on. It was unusually hot outside for so early in the year, 91F and very muggy. I zapped the humidity and took a few degrees C off the temperature to give the AC a head start.
And while I was working, my sense sphere radius passed the 19,400 kilometer mark. It was now greater than three Earth radii and still growing.
"Oh, wow!" said Patricia, as she stepped out of the shower. "How in the world did you get that working?"
She was dressed in a bathrobe and drying her hair with a large towel. I turned and smiled at her. "It was nothing, just needed a little cleaning."
"Really? I was sure the compressor was shot. But you're right, it sounds fine now. Did Melanie leave?"
"Yep. She left us something for dinner. She had to go back home to study for finals."
"Oh, okay," said Patricia, sitting on her bed. She finished drying her hair and put it up in a ponytail, and then gave me a playful smile. "I owe both of you so much. Eric, do you have to rush back?"
"Uh, no. My evening is free. Something you need?"
"Well, kind of." Patricia surprised me by blushing. "I was wondering, if I could return... if I could show my appreciation." She hesitated, and then gave me a burst of a smile. "Could I give you a backrub?"
"Oh wow. Really?"
"Yeah. Just a simple backrub, I promise."
We looked in each other's eyes. All I saw was love and affection. There was no lust at all. "Uh, sure, that sounds nice. What do you want me to do?"
She patted the bed. "Thanks! Just take off your shirt and tee-shirt and lie down."
I zapped my sweat before I did, got rid of my shoes and socks too. No sense dirtying a newly made bed. I was soon lying down, and felt Patricia's cool, clean hands begin to work the muscles in my shoulders and neck.
"Wow Eric. Nice job. You've been working out?"
I closed my eyes and sighed. "Just a little I guess." After that I simply relaxed and didn't feel like saying anything.
And neither did Patricia. Her massage techniques were masterful. The time passed quietly, Patricia occasionally humming songs as she worked. I felt her hands slowly work their magic, kneading and relaxing the muscles in my back and upper arms. It felt absolutely delightful. I began to drift, acutely aware of how wonderful her hands felt and of nothing else. My thoughts turned to Melanie. And the time passed.
"Here Eric. Lift up for me a bit."
Patricia's hands were at both sides of my waist. I rose up without thinking, and felt her hands slide under me around my waist. She unbuckled my belt and unzipped my shorts. I felt her startle a bit, and then her fingers went to my waistband and she pulled down a bit. "I need to get to your tailbone," she whispered, pushing me lightly on my rump as a signal for me to lie back down.
"Sure," I mumbled, still deeply relaxed. I had never even opened my eyes.
I felt her fingers and palms working the base of my spine and massaging the top muscles of my butt. I was in heaven. It felt so nice and soothing. I felt Patricia's fingers hold me below my waist as her fingers worked my end vertebrae. I sighed and got back to drifting. Melanie, my beautiful wife...
"Eric?"
"Hmm?"
"I didn't realize... you'd find this so sexy. Are you erect for me?"
My eyes blinked open. "Huh?" I looked at the clock, and was amazed to see more than an hour had passed. My body was in an extremely relaxed state. I reached down and felt my groin. It was a rather unique feeling. I was fully erect, but I was also relaxed and floating and had no desire for sexual stimulation. Patricia's hands must have brushed against my stiff penis when she unzipped me.
"My gosh, you're right. This feels super nice Patricia, but I'm as surprised as you are. I was just drifting and thinking of Melanie."
"Ah, that explains it. That's good. Go back to your dream Eric."
But the short conversation, and the reality of having an erection with Patricia massaging my back woke me up. I lay quietly and sighed, enjoying the feel of her delightful hands. I wiggled my rump at her in appreciation.
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George's second summons came only two days later when a peremptory email appeared on his computer. "You have an appointment with me this evening at seven o'clock for one hour. Erica," it said. He had an appointment with Allison Callow at six o'clock and he had to rather rush through things in order to be ready to leave by half past. "I wondered if you might like a drink?" said Allison. "It is such a nice evening and the garden of the pub by the river will be lovely." "Ah, well,...
Laila stopped at her front door and reached into her purse for her keys. She had just pushed the metal key into the lock when a strong set or arms wrapped around her, startling her. One hand held her wrist, as the other hand covered her mouth. Laila’s instinct was to scream. “Don’t scream. I want you to do as I say, so listen carefully.” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. His voice was deep and calm as he spoke. His body was tall and solid against her back. He smelled of spiced...
Saturday morning, while sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, two sleepy girls entered the kitchen, mussed and cute. Sia’s eyes brightened when she saw me, moving to hug me from behind. “You’re home,” she said. “Where else would I be?” I asked, pleasantly surprised when Jasmin hugged me. Sia hunted through the fridge, and pulled out milk and orange juice. I watched Jasmin find bowls and spoons as if she lived here. Sia pulled a box of Froot Loops out and both girls parked themselves at...