Macy's consciousness flashed like an alarm clock: It's Wednesday afternoon. I usually go to the spa at this time.
Well, who was Pete to hold a lady back? He let her take control of her own leg muscles and with that control she stood up, threw her wallet and other things into her handbag and lodged it onto her shoulder.
Pete made a mental note that the bullet was in the bag, travelling silently with them. Perhaps Macy would get aroused while out. He suspected he would.
xXx
They arrived at a luxurious and very white spa, Macy working the body, Pete her silent passenger. A youthful-looking girl with poker-straight hair tied into a flawless ponytail sat behind reception, looked up and smiled a perfect, white smile at them both.
"Hello Macy," she said, a pretty lilt in her voice. "What can I book you for today?"
"Hmm," Macy stalled, opened the spa treatment list and glanced through it. "I'll go for my usual hot stone massage, and the refresh manicure. But I think I'd also like..." she paused and put a finger to her face as she pored over the options, denting her face where Pete suspected her left dimple was. "a bronzing."
The two women went through the process of giving and receiving appointment times and payment, and Pete felt a thrill of pleasure at the assertive attitude with which Macy handed over £130 as if it was nothing more than £10. In fact, he almost started whistling when Macy turned her body towards a corridor and started walking down it.
She took them into a changing room of sorts. He looked around: it was an indulgent place, no wonder Macy liked it here! The furnishings were all pale varnished wood, and there were mirrors everywhere. Five shelves held stacks of thick towels, and glass vases kept sprays of scented, pristine flowers.
Macy's arms moved and he realised she wanted to undress, so he followed her movements.
She reached behind her and clasped the zip on the back of her dress. In a languid move she arched her back and unzipped it. The movement had been quick so Pete took over. He looked at her in the mirror, at... not quite her flawless beauty (because although he suspected she might once have been tender and beautiful, he thought age had probably toughened her) but her sheer attitude. This lady had been through a lot, enough that she wasn't scared of anything. He could feel it in the hot strength of her mind.
He wondered whether she'd be turned on or frightened if she knew he was here.
The dress started to come loose about her shoulders but he didn't shrug it off yet. Her blonde hair hung loose and framed a sharp jaw. Her tits - oh god, her tits! - were like watermelons. Watermelons with the stalks still on. Slowly, and with a feeling of great luxury, he slipped the dress off one shoulder, and then the other. It fell down as far as his hips and he paid it no more attention.
Her bra held two fabulously round breasts. He touched them, picking them up and weighing them in his hands. They were heavy, and so, so firm. He felt a thrill that in his normal body would have meant a hardening, but in this one? He lifted up the hem of the dress and slipped her hand into her knickers. Mmm, beautiful pussy. Not very wet, but just a nice patch of slipperiness that he knew he could make grow if he wanted.
He let Macy take over and unclip her bra, but then took over again to slow down her taking off of it. One nipple was slowly revealed, dark, almost perfectly round and soft - and then the other.
He stepped out of her shoes, let her wiggle out of her dress and then watched the mirror as she attended to her tights. He - she - eased the thinnest of thin materials down over his thighs, the angle of her knees and then over the curves of her calves. He felt their dainty strength.
His hands down at her ankles, he looked up at the mirror again to see her bent over, her wildly round rump stuck confidently in the air. He savoured the calm and ease of her mind - younger girls often felt self-conscious, sadly disgusted or guilty when he stopped them in this position. But not Macy.
Macy winked at him and he startled. Oh come on, girl! You just winked at your own reflection, she thought playfully, and he remembered himself. He felt silly. Get a grip.
He heard the door open around the corner out of sight, and instinctively straightened. "Mrs. Rossen? I'm ready to start your massage as soon as you're ready."
Oh- whoops! "Uh, just a second. I'll be right through," he blurted, to Macy's confusion and indignation.
The door closed, and Pete let Macy finish getting ready. She stripped naked, put her clothing in a neat pile and fetched a towel, which she wrapped around herself. The size of her breasts meant that the towel was very loose from her lower chest down, but Pete felt nothing but pleasure at the woman's nakedness and confidence. It felt like the stuff of legends!
She went through a doorway and he found himself in a small, private room. A girl - he presumed she was the same girl who'd just called Macy - stood in the corner with her hands politely behind her back, wearing a starchy white tabard. "If you'd like to lie down then we'll make a start."
She looked politely away as Macy opened the front of the towel and laid herself, tummy down, on the table. Then the girl stepped forward.
"Would you like me to work mainly on your upper back?" she asked, already busy with a selection of flat, grey stones on a surface between them. "Only, I noticed you have quite large boobs, so I'm guessing you get a lot of backache?"
"Yes please," said Macy with the off-handed nonchalance of a queen among women. Pete wiggled her rump and settled down to a nice, relaxing treatment.
Go back - Go to the parent episode.
Sun Mar 04 19:01:01 2012