Please read the first part of The Appointment to get a gist of this character named Troy Phillips.
It's the first time I've written from a male perspective and it's my first ever erotic story. Sorry if it's not up to par with everyone else's -- just thought I'd give it a try.
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My clients were mostly middle aged well-to-dos with more money than sense. They came in their droves because I'm good at my job, in fact I'm the best. I've seen my business double its profits year upon year in the last five years. As a psychosexual therapist and masseur; I use my intellect and training along with my hands and other implements that I have at my disposal to do my job.
I have the finest exotic oils, creams and pomades made especially to relax the muscles and excite the senses. My salon is very clinical with state of the art equipment and other services such as, facials, pedicures, manicures and other non-surgical treatments. It also has a sauna, steam room, gym, pool and solarium; everything to cater to the body and mind.
I guess my success could be attributed to the fact that I'm a bit of an aberration. I am one of only three men in the whole country in this particular field. My clientele are predominantly women; of varying ages and sizes, all bursting at the seams to have a young man of thirty-five touch their aching sex-starved skin. Just looking at their naked bodies makes them spring a pre-emptive leak. Six years later and I'm topping a whopping 300k salary and all by word of mouth, no marketing of any kind.
But now, I felt I was growing a tad weary of the whole thing. I had my fill of sagging, stretched marked midriffs and bulging, beer filled bellies. I paid my dues underneath the cold grey skies of London; now it was time to go. It was time to fly off to pastures new; Bahamas perhaps or Hawaii -- Alicia could never make up her mind between the two.
Over the course of the last two weeks I informed most of my regulars of my impending departure and gave them all a months' notice of termination. Of course there were the expected cries of disappointment and pleads for a change of mind but I insisted I could not be swayed. Then came the monetary bribes and believe me the sums were staggering but I was having none of it. After that, came the direct offers of sex for whenever, wherever and however, which I obviously and graciously declined.
They came to me because they lacked sexual gratification in their own lives. They would discuss their mundane sexual practices or the lack there of, and I would advise them on techniques and scenarios to rekindle the embers of their relationships. Following the therapy session, I required individual clients to have a thorough shower and dress in the white linen robes and slippers provided. After which they would lay on my sex therapy table, where I'd massage them meticulously, and if they happened to reach climax that was fine too. More often than not this did happen, as I said I'm the best.
Everything was above board and professional, my hands never ventured into any female orifices or touched any erect penises; that's not my style. At the end of each session my clients always left the salon feeling less frigid and eager to re-enact the whole thing with their loved one; job done, next please!
My two regulars were an absolute bore as usual, chit-chatting about their dreary inconsequential lives; I nodded in the right places and smiled whenever they turned to look at me. The ticking clock filled the room and became almost deafening. When I had finished washing my hands I returned to the reception area to usher in the last appointment. Suddenly, the two hours ahead of me seemed an eternity. I took a deep breath, composed myself and readied my fake smile.
I pushed open the door of the reception to find a stunningly beautiful black haired, caramel skinned woman. I'd say she must have been in her late thirties to early forties, and looked like a supermodel gracefully posing for a picture as she nestled into the soft brown leather sofa. She was impeccably dressed in a dark Chanel skirt suit with a gold coloured chenille scarf draped elegantly around her arms. Beneath her jacket I glimpsed the top of a gold laced cameo. Her legs were amazing, long and bare, radiating health. Her high heeled shoes accentuated her calf muscles beautifully. She was striking in every way and for the first time in a long time, I felt my heart skip a beat when she lifted her head to smile at me. What a gorgeous smile -- I melted.
Surely I was in love.
As I sat across from her in my office, I couldn't help but gaze at her perfect mouth as she spoke. I watched her sexy red lips open and close and her pink ripe tongue occasionally poke its head out from its hiding place; I was mesmerized. Her catlike eyes were a warm hazelnut, her hair was long, thick, and wavy flowing to just below her shoulders. She had a fascinating rich Spanish accent which seemed to purr whenever she rolled her r's; sending electric shocks to the awakening member between my legs. I held my folder atop my lap to conceal my growth which pushed hard against my trousers in an attempt to be set free.
I could feel perspiration collecting on my forehead and upper lip. I pulled my tie away from my neck and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. I felt stifled; the room seemed to close in on me. It was almost like a panic attack but I knew its true origin - lust! Something I hadn't
genuinely
felt in a very long time. Something I hadn't felt since Alicia. A wave of guilt washed over me, jerking me back to reality.
Adriana Kaliano had been born in Argentina as was her husband. They both immigrated to America and set up businesses there. The marriage had been arranged between their two families and he was a lot older than her. They had one child Joseph, who had grown up in America and was now in college over there. After twenty years of marriage he filed for divorce claiming she was an unexciting lover, that she was all gloss and no substance. However, she since realised that she hadn't really loved him at all, and that was why she could never fully give herself to him freely. She confessed that during their relationship she never experienced an orgasm and was unsure as to whether she had the ability to even have one.
Long after their divorce, her husband's words had been ringing in her ears preventing her from moving forward. But now at the age of forty-two she wanted to explore her sexuality and learn more about the art of sex. After arriving in London on business, a friend told her about my service so she decided to make an appointment. She expressed her nervousness talking to a male about such private matters, but felt desperate to resolve her issues. I reassured her and let her know that everything discussed was confidential and that she was in control and could terminate the session whenever she felt uncomfortable. That seemed to placate her and she was willing to continue with the talk therapy.