A shower helped - but only a little.I made my way downstairs - crept, almost - uncertain how I would react when I came face to face with Mary or, wors..., Heather or Isobel. I made a conscious effort to pull myself together. 'You didn't see anything. You didn't hear anything. And it's none of your business, ' I told myself firmly.There was no-one about. I was wondering whether I could make some coffee when Mary came the back door. This morning she was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. From the. His passive image excited me, so I got some massage oil, sat on his butt and began to knead his shoulders. Working rhythmically over and under the muscles, pulling down along the spine, pressing my palm's heel in small circles, all of which elicited grunts of drowsy approval as I finished with his back. But I seemed to really get his attention when he felt the drizzle of oil on his butt and I began to grab and release those globes, mixing in some scratches and slaps. Running an oily finger up. More

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