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The Bucket List 2

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Just type the words “happy ending massage” into your browser and see what pops up.  I swear there must be seven hundred and fifty thousand entries for men, and like, three entries for women.  You have women from every ethnicity advertising that they are the best and will rock a man’s world.  You, literally, must go into the black market to find a man that offers a sensual massage for a woman.  What is the big taboo about a happy ending for a woman?I turned forty-seven today, which makes me sound like I’m about to expire, like milk.  I know I shouldn’t look at it like that, but damn.  It’s widely known that most men become sexier with age, while women, well, just age.  Not everything is negative about being middle-aged.  What I lack in youth and confidence, I more than make up in experience. After reflecting on how much I have missed in life, by putting my career first, I decided on making a bucket list of erotic, and maybe taboo, things I want to experience before my expiration date is up.  I say this light-heartedly because I managed to cross off an experience before I even made the list.  Now, as I lounge here in my bed with my personal trainer/masseuse, let me tell you what happened last night.Every year everyone in the entire world makes the same New Year’s resolution to get into better shape.  My best friend, who happens to be male, güvenilir bahis conned me into joining his gym, so I could “workout” with him, but I was on to him right from start.  He just wanted to torture me.  You see…he’s tall and toned.  There’s not one inch of fat on his body anywhere.  Whereas, with me, I’m short and curvy.  I don’t mind my narrow waist but detest the wide hips and overflowing boobs.  I look like a squished hourglass. Malcolm, my best friend, finally weaseled me into going by promising me that he would be my personal trainer.  Tired of arguing with him about it, I put on my workout gear:  baggy T-shirt and loose pants.  Right from the start, he nagged me about my clothes.  “Why do you always wear such unflattering clothes?” he griped.“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?  I’m comfortable and here, aren’t I?” I sniped back.He harrumphed but said nothing. “Why does there have to be so many damn mirrors in this place,” I stated aloud.The one condition I had about coming to a public place to work out was that we go when there no one around.  Being very self-conscious, I worry what I look little to other people.  So hence the reason we were at the gym at 11:30 pm, which suited me fine, because the place was deserted.For the next half hour, he coached me on the correct ways to lift weights.  I’ll admit that the way his hands güvenilir bahis siteleri were sliding up and down my body, correcting my mistakes in form, was beginning to turn me on.  So, I started to intentionally make mistakes, just to feel his hands on me.  It’s been a long time, since I had been touched, much less fucked.“What are you doing?  I’ve already shown you the proper way to lift that,” he snapped, “Just put it down before you hurt yourself.”“If you’re gonna bitch at me all night, I’m going home,” I said.I got off the bench and started gathering my things, all the while mumbling about pig-headed men.  As I brushed past him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me to his chest.“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled softly into my ear.My nipples hardened into peaks.  I’d never heard him use this voice before. “Home,” I said, breathlessly.“Oh, no, no, no.  You haven’t had a proper cool down.  Don’t want to get a cramp,” he whispered.“Too late,” I squeaked.“Well, I wouldn’t be a good trainer, if I didn’t help you get rid of that cramp,” he said, lips brushing against my ear.Shivers went up and down my down, settling right on top of my clit.  What was he up to, I wondered?  He could have anyone woman he wanted.  Dare I think that he was flirting with me.  My mind wandered, as he led me to the massage room. “Again, what’s with iddaa siteleri all the mirrors in this place?” I said, absently.“Exposure.  Awareness.  Who knows?” Mac replied.“What are we doing?” I whispered.“I’m giving you a massage,” he simply stated, “Now, get undressed and get on that table.  I’ll be right back.”Staring at myself in the mirror, I remembered the last time I was with a man.  It had been two years ago, and my husband of twenty years had just finished the most boring fuck of my life.  We had a lukewarm relationship, to begin with, and neither of us really liked one another.  He turned to me and said that he had fallen in love with our twenty-two-year-old neighbor and wanted a divorce.  I should have been relieved, but instead, was devastated. My self-esteem was in the gutter.  Mac, his best friend at the time, thought what he did was shitty and decided to break ties with my ex-husband.  He stayed by my side, lending me his wide shoulders to cry on.Confused by the sudden turn of events, I debated on just leaving.  On one hand, Mac is my best friend, and this would change things between us.  On the other hand, it’s been so long since I had been touched. “Fuck it. I deserve this,” I said to myself.Not entirely comfortable with being completely naked, I stripped down to my bra and panties and climbed up on the table.  I wrapped the towel around me, feeling the need to conceal my flaws.  With mirrors all around me, I was feeling vulnerable.“I was wondering when you would make your decision,” Mac said.“I’m hoping you’re not just fucking with me,” I said, point-blank.

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