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"I'll leave you in their good hands,"Miranda said, adding, "Mr. Ashe would like you to know that he'llbe viewing parts of the process."
That was a big clue that my "specialcheck-in procedure" was going to be filthy as hell.
Inside the disappointinglyfuturistic-fucking-machine-free spa—not everything could be likeinternet erotica, I guessed—Beth led me to a changing roomoutfitted with a luxurious multi-head shower and all the toiletriesand tools one might require to make themselves presentable to theworld again after their facials and massages. Totally standard; I'dspent enough of my parents' money on pampering over the years tohave seen similar set-ups. I stripped down and took advantage of aquick shower, then put on the fluffy, pre-warmed robe Bethprovided.
For the most part, everything wasnormal. Mimosas and a pedicure, an offer of waxing that I declinedhaving taken care of my business at home, and then it was off to mymassage, where I met up with Canson once more.
"Enjoying your day so far?" he askedcheerfully as we entered another fairly standard spa room. Thelights were low, essential oil scenting the air from a warmer, anda crisp white sheet draped over the massage table.
Beth entered, carrying a foam wedgeunder her arm. "All right, Charlotte. Why don't you get rid of thatrobe and hop up on the table?"
Whenever I'd had massages in the past,the therapist had always left the room so I could disrobe and covermyself with a provided top sheet. Canson and Beth waitedexpectantly.
"If you're feeling self-conscious, Ican take this off," Beth said, gesturing to her ownclothes.
"So can I," Canson offered.
My eyes were probably wide enough theycould both see my brain. "No, you're fine," I said breezily, as ifstrangers offered to get nude for my comfort all the time. Ishrugged out of the robe, too aware of the way my nipples tightenedat the first touch of the air on my skin.
Beth took the robe and Canson pattedthe table. "On your stomach please," he instructed.
I laid down and wriggled into acomfortable position, settling my face into the headrest. Bethpatted my thigh. "Could you lift your hips, please?"
Okay...
She slid the wedge beneath me, raisingand tilting my pelvis at an angle that fully exposed my pussy toboth of them.
I assumed this would be the part thatMatt watched from wherever he was.
"Comfortable?" Cansonasked, his huge hand resting on the curve of my calf.
I somehow squeaked out a "Yes," andforced myself to slow my suddenly erratic breathing.
"Relax," Beth reassured me,and I heard her slicking her hands with oil. "We're here to relieveall of your tension."
Heat flooded straight to myvulva. I took a long, deep breath and prepared for them to touchme.
They did, but not in theway I expected. Beth started at my shoulders and neck, and she putin the work easing the knots caused by a long day of travel. Cansonstarted at my feet, doing a more thorough—almost painful—foot rubthan I'd received during the pedicure. They were good at theirjobs, so good that they lulled me nearly to sleep as they tendedevery muscle between my head and feet.
While I drifted off intohalf-slumbering bliss, some part of my brain noted that Canson'shands were getting awfully close to my upraised vulva. So close,his liberally oiled fingertips accidentally brushed my folds. Andwhen Beth reached my ass, I couldn't help but notice how often herstrokes parted my cheeks. A drizzle of something warm and wetbetween them shocked me back to full awareness.
Wordlessly, Canson and Beth stood oneither side of me. His thick, powerful fingers moved insurprisingly delicate strokes over my labia, trapping each foldbetween his fingertips and massaging them, too, working the hot oilinto every crevice. The only area he avoided was my clit, whichpulsed with longing every time he came near it.
"You're very tense here,"Beth said, her tone taking on a teasing note as she pushed herslender finger against my anus. "Mr. Ashe made it clear that wewere to provide thorough relaxation and preparation."
I made a strangled noise.
This is what you're herefor, isn't it?The horniest part of mybrain shouted at me.To experience newthings?
"I'm going to use my thumb to try toget some of this tightness out," she told me, and pressed firmlyaround the rim of my asshole.
"You look a little stiff here," Cansonsaid, sliding a finger on either side of my clit.
I moaned aloud.
"Let me see what we can do about that."He squeezed the knuckles of those fingers slightly together andgently rocked his hand. "Now, it's important that you don't tenseup."
That would have been a lot easier if mybody wasn't weeping for release already. And I meant weeping; thefluid dripping from my clutching cunt wasn't the massageoil.