*(Note: If you’ve never listened to the comedy podcast “My Dad Wrote a Porno”, I really recommend it. They read and discuss truly absurd and anatomically impossible literature that one of their dads wrote for a series called “Belinda Blinked.” My stories in their cringier moments remind me a little bit of Belinda stories. But, I hope it’s not so silly that anyone could model a comedy podcast around it?)*
Cady had been on the road for work for fourteen of the last twenty days, and it was wearing her out. But one of the perks of her job was that she could self-approve a nice hotel for herself for this next trip — and she knew she deserved it. Friday work out of town merited a nice suite and an appointment in the hotel spa too.
When she was finally able to leave the remote office and get to the hotel, the relief at being finished for the week was exhilarating. She settled in to the suite a little, then decided to take advantage of some of the free spa time before the massage appointment.
On checking in, the cheerful pierced young blonde girl gave her robe and slippers. “Your masseuse will be Kelly,” she told her, “but you have about an hour and a half to enjoy the spa first, just be in the waiting room for your time and we’ll call you back.” It was a lovely place, with soft lighting, nice music, a spacious hot tub, sauna, steam room, gorgeous indoor pool with natural-looking rock fixtures. She cycled through them, winding up in the steam room and staying as long as she could manage before getting in the shower and letting it run cool and clear over her body. She scrubbed and exfoliated and shaved and couldn’t resist a quick rub between her legs with a little body wash as the cool water flowed around her. There wasn’t time to finish, but sometimes it was better just to have a little taste anyway. By the time, she had the robe back on again she felt so clean and warm she thought she might be glowing. She pinched and rubbed her nipples a little to bring them to life — she didn’t even know why, just felt like inviting them to join in the excitement of the night away.
*Cucumber water is delicious — every restaurant should do cucumber water,* she mused, waiting for them to call her back. Finally a tall blond man appeared smiling in the doorway, a masseuse belt cinching what she couldn’t help but notice was a very trim waistline. Gorgeous toned biceps peeked out from the short sleeves of a black t-shirt. A close-cropped beard with more ginger in it than his hair. And — dear God — a dimple that showed when he greeted her.
“Cady? Nice to meet you, come on back, I’m Kelly,” he said, gesturing for her to join him in the hallway. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “I wasn’t expecting..”
“A guy, I know. Parents were big Kelly Slater fans.”
“Well, he ***is*** probably the best thing to come out of Florida in a while.”
At that, Kelly laughed with a sound of genuine delight. Cady felt a flutter in her stomach and made a mental note to try to think of some good jokes so that maybe she could hear that again tonight. Also, maybe she could walk extremely slowly so she could follow his thick, curvy ass for a little while longer down this corridor. Kelly was a very, very beautiful man.
“Do you surf?” she asked him.
“When I’m living in a place where there is good surfing, I try to. But I like to keep moving too, I’m trying to see the world.”
“Wait, how *old* are you, Kelly Slater isn’t that old….” she asked.
“I’m 23, still trying to figure it all out, you know,” he said, “but I really like having a job where I make people feel better. Plus I can do it anywhere, it’s a good fit for me.”
*23 is…more than half my age, so there is that*, Cady thought.
When he left her in the room to undress “to the level of her comfort”, Cady remembered she wasn’t wearing anything under her robe, so the level of her comfort was going to have to be stark naked. *Fine by her*, she thought, and settled in under the blanket and into the face cradle.
As she closed her eyes, she pictured his beautiful face standing over her, those hands that led to those biceps coming down onto her body. She shuddered a little with the anticipation that he would soon touch her. “Oh, is it cold in here, I can…” he started to say, but Cady cut him off. “It’s just perfect, honey, it’s just great. I’m just so glad to be done with work.”
“Oh, great,” Kelly continued. “So, are there any areas of your body that you want to be off-limits for our session today?”
Cady briefly considered saying that she didn’t think they should do anal the first time, but decided that *might* be too big a jump from the Florida joke. “Hmmm, no, I don’t think so,” she told him, “I’m in your hands.”
And oh my, what hands they were. Massage therapists always had such nice strong hands, but Kelly’s were amazing. Strong, but also just a touch of rough skin, like he did woodworking on the weekends. She could feel her juices melting the second he touched her back.
*Good grief, woman*, she thought to herself. *You have got to get back on Tinder and find someone. You cannot be out here lusting after every hot young thing half your age. They are lusting after their own hot young things their own age. Now keep it together.*
She tried mightily to discipline her mind into this plan, but it kept running through the disappointing roster of dates that had not panned out, which her friend Anna called “Divorced Dad Roulette,” and found that she very much preferred thinking about Kelly instead. Not that there was anything wrong with divorced dads — she hoped one of them would work out for her someday. But she was alone in this room with Kelly, and they were not winning the mental battle just at the moment.
Kelly worked quietly, the new age-y music playing in the background and a smell of lavender in the air and in the oil on his hands. He worked his hands firmly over her back and neck, and as he moved to her scalp she stifled a moan, it felt so good. He worked them down her shoulders, arms, to her hands, and then massaged her fingers individually with his strong, oiled hands. She normally found this extremely relaxing, but with Kelly she found it simultaneously relaxing but also exciting her beyond belief. She felt her clit tingling and swelling, almost throbbing already as he rubbed her — and he hadn’t even hit an erogenous zone yet. If he eventually made it anywhere near her ass she might lose control completely.
…..and then he moved to her legs. Dear God, she thought, what if he can *smell* me? What if I’ve gotten wet all over my thighs and he can *feel* it? She knew male clients probably got hard in massage sessions all the time, but it seemed like she should be able to do a little better than that.
But if Kelly noticed anything, he was certainly discreet and didn’t say anything as he worked. She decided to try a little conversation, maybe keep her mind occupied. They talked a little about growing up in the South, and where he had been. He had traveled a surprising amount for someone so young. She couldn’t see him, but could picture that dimple coming out as he smiled reliving happy memories, and *oh God that is not helping the sexual arousal Cady.*
Unable to take her mind off of him and feeling almost drunk with the pleasure of his touch, she ventured, “soooo….does this massage finish with a happy ending by any chance?”
She felt him immediately remove his hands, and she could picture the offense in his face as he said, “I’m not a sex worker.” She felt all the blood rush to her face as the weight of the mistake settled over her.
“I am so, so sorry,” she told him, “Of course you’re not, I was just enjoying it all so much and I made a terrible joke, I am so sorry. God, I just can’t be around normal people any more, I am so sorry…”
He didn’t say anything, but at least she felt his hands descend to her again. For a few more awkward moments he worked, and finished the massage. Cady felt completely mortified and did not know how she would look him in the eyes again when she was able to turn over. Maybe he would just leave and she wouldn’t have to see him again.
Before long, he told her the time was up and she could get her robe back on, and thankfully, oh thankfully, she heard him open and close the door. She was fastening her robe when he returned to the room with a cup of cucumber water. She couldn’t look at him, and looked at the floor blushing furiously instead. She hoped this would be over quickly and she could scurry away to her vibrator and some exceptionally shameful alone time in her hotel suite, thinking of his face and arms and butt, and how they looked before she blew the session up.
But then she felt him lift her chin slightly and then he was smiling at her with that dimple as he said, “I have to be off work, of course. I assume it’s the room number on the reservation?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/h0nwfn/the_work_weekend_part_1_mf_milf_age_gap_female
I think this is really great, actually. You spend plenty of time on the description and don’t move too quickly. You also write decent prose. A lot of people just basically end up writing “he kept fucking me until I came,” but the real question is what does that look like? How does it feel?
I also feel like people rush to the actual sex too fast. IDK if it’s a difference between men and women writers but all the ladies I know (myself included) generally prefer plenty of foreplay to none at all. Sure a quicky is fun sometimes, but people don’t read books for quickies, that’s what porn compilations are for.
If there is any advice I can give to men, whether it’s for the bedroom or for your book, it’s *slow the Hell down.*
# C.hec.k. m.y. pr.of.ile ❤️❤️❤️
Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/h790qf/the_work_weekend_part_2_mf_milf_age_gap_female/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share