Hands on Heaven

The room is dim, the scent of jasmine oil heavy in the air. Our masseuse, a vision of professionalism, begins her work, her hands gliding over taut muscles. Her client, initially tense, begins to relax under her expert touch. But as her hands stray lower, her touch becomes more suggestive. He squirms, but she insists, her voice a husky whisper, 'Let me help you with that tension.' With a ragged breath, he capitulates, and she brings him to a shuddering, satisfying climax, her hands never breaking rhythm.

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