Ann: The Married Years Ch. 56

"God... I hope people actually open up and ask me to fulfill some hidden fantasies. That would be awesome. I want this to be more about them than me."

It was a pipe dream of sorts. Most of the time the adventures she and Neil devised were centered around the pleasure of their partner, with others wanting to be a part. But Ann's day as Cleopatra came to mind. It was more about making others happy. Truthfully, it was that kind of mentality that drove her sexuality, and every other part of her life. She was the most selfless person Neil had ever met, which is why he felt compelled to give her the weekend he'd set up. She needed the break, yet she'd never consider doing it for herself.

Checking her watch, it was close to eleven. She selected the pink bikini, thinking it would be the most modest of the four. She wanted to save the others for the weekend when more people might be milling about. Donning a pair of black four-inch pumps, she grabbed a small travel gym bag and threw a few things inside, along with the room key. A minute later she looking at her blurry reflection in the door of the elevator.

"Okay. Put in a good workout, get in a swim... lunch, jacuzzi and a cool down swim," she said out loud, as if she were reminding herself of the routine she needed to keep. She really didn't have to. The letters, and the menu of sexual services and available outfits were engrained in her naughty brain. It was something she'd likely never forget. And if she did, the papers were safely tucked in a pocket of the empty suitcase. She'd place them in one of her boxes on her closet shelf... the one she kept her pot and the Penthouse magazines her mother-in-law had given her. Someday she hoped to document the adventures she and Neil had lived out. She doubted she'd have the nerve to submit them for a public publication like Betsy had, having dozens of them printed on the pages of the Forum section. After all, she wasn't that gifted a writer; unlike Betsy, or Neil. But she wanted the papers as a momento.

Making her way through the lobby toward the gym, she could feel the eyes on her. It wasn't busy, but that didn't mean it was empty. She heard a couple gasps and a distinctive moan. It really didn't shock her. From the back, she appeared naked, the tiny strings of the top and the thong being microscopic. If it weren't for them being pink, even the pale shade she was wearing, she doubted they would have been visible at all.

"It's going to be a great morning!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Slowly strutting back through the lobby, Ann felt good. Very good, in fact. She was sore, but the good kind. Her body had reacted favorably to the hard workout she'd put in. It was incredible how having more excercise equipment available to her made a difference in her normal routine. She'd done well with the versatile rowing machine at home, what with it being able to be configured in different ways in order to do more than just row. It actually was perfect for their home, since they didn't have a lot of extra space. It folded down and fit under their bed, but she used it daily to do a dozen different hard exercises that shaped and toned her incredible physique.

Yet having machines available that were specifically designed for one or two routines really showed how much more she could be getting out of the hour she devoted to working out. And that was important. The routine she'd established cleared her mind while creating that desired burn. It gave her energy, much like her morning coffee. It provided sanity. While she loved the difference she felt working out at the hotel, she couldn't justify the idea of joining an actual gym. The expense would be hard to accept, and the time away from her home wouldn't be worth whatever she'd benefit from it.

Still, she took full advantage of the opportunity she had. Starting with a ten minute run barefoot on a treadmill, she followed that up with bench presses, curls, stomach crunches, leg presses, pull ups, and a half dozen more. She took no breaks in between other than to drink water. She was in a zone, just like home. She finished with a hard ride on a stationary bike, set on an uphill mode.

She was panting as she carried her heels and her bag to the outdoor pool. She was surprised it was actually open. It was only mid April, and most pools wouldn't have water in them until Memorial Day. But it was heated, and it was a beautiful sunny day in the upper 60s.

She'd put her things on a lounger and wasted no time, diving into the deep end. She began a long, slow swim, continually doing laps back and forth. She'd alternate strokes, showing off her grace and athleticism to no one, but doing that used different muscle groups. The breast stroke was particularly good, what with how the leg kick worked her thighs.

"God I wish we had a pool," she dreamed.

Keeping a watchful eye on the clock on the wall of the building, she pushed herself at the end. The final five minutes she was back to using the freestyle stroke, going as hard as she could. Promptly at 12:30, she saw a young man bringing her lunch outside.

"Miss Green?" he called out.

Ann climbed slowly up the ladder, water rolling off her bronze skin. She didn't bother to check for herself. She could tell by his reaction that she was on full display for him, her bikini hiding very little, if anything. The material and the color would be somewhat transparent when wet. At least she wore the mode modest of the four to start. The other ones would be practically clear. She grinned as the waiter nearly dropped the tray while he leered at her.

As she ate her salad, she played back her workout, feeling the perfect pain... the burn she loved. The running and cycling were new additions to her routine. Actually, so was the swimming, although she'd done that many times in her life. "I wonder if I could compete in a triathlon?" she mused.

With lunch done, and the relaxing soak in the jacuzzi behind her, she swam for another ten minutes... cool down laps, as Neil called them. They helped with releasing the lactic acid buildup, completing her morning exercise regimen. Dripping wet, she put on her heels and grabbed her bag, walking sexily through the lobby. She accentuated the sway in her hips, her ass moving seductively with each step.

She caught sight of herself in a mirror, which stopped her in her tracks. She paused to take stock in the reflection. An actual gasp escaped, followed by a wry smile. She never looked better in her life. And if that bikini was the modest one, she might as well not bother wearing the other three over the weekend. For all intents and purposes, she was naked. The soft pink material clung to her form, and it hid nothing.

Her pussy began dripping. The idea of how she'd spend the rest of her night lighting the fire inside her. She felt more stares as she passed through, the lobby being much busier. She didn't return them. Instead she just focused on her strut.

She waited for the elevator, and as the door opened, another guest appeared by her side. She stepped in, and held the button to keep the door open for him.

He got a good, long look, his eyes wandering over her body from head to toe and back again. She continued to hold the door, letting him stare. And fantasize.

Finally she giggled and said, "Going up?"

"Wh... what?" he stammered, like he was surprised she could talk. His eyes locked onto hers. That and her megawatt smile.

"I asked if you planned on going up with me. It doesn't go down from here. Only I do... but not until later tonight."

He missed her subtle tease, saying, "Uh... I... I don't know."

"Well, I can just stay here and let you drool. Or, you can ride with me. I don't mind either way." He stepped inside, and she giggled as he struggled with his luggage, hoping to hide his obvious erection. "I'm on five. You?"

"Three, please." She hit the button for her floor, ignoring what he'd said. Shaking his head, he got the cobwebs out, thinking a bit more clearly. "Excuse me. I said I'm on three."

She smiled, turning toward him. Pulling the top of her bikini to the sides, she exposed her breasts totally... not that he couldn't make them out before. Winking, she said, "I heard you. But like I said, I can't go down until we get you up first."

"Holy fuck," he groaned.

"Sorry. I don't go that far," she replied calmly. "But like I said, I have been known to go down occasionally. I'm not really into men, but you're cute."

They reached the top floor, and Ann put away her breasts and stepped out. "I hope you enjoy stay."

"I already have," he chuckled.

She felt good about the exchange. For the briefest of moments she considered going with him back to his floor to give them more time. She even contemplated flashing her pussy, but she knew he could already make out her decorative pubic hair, and the camel toe she was showing off. She briefly thought of getting his name, and recommended he call the desk, ask for Heather, and then make an inquiry about Rachel on the fifth floor. She didn't do any of that, content to let the weekend come to her.

And it did. She was about to take off her bikini and hop in the shower when there was a knock at her door. At first she thought her mystery elevator guest might have circled back and checked to see what room she went in. Making her way to the entrance, she peered through the peephole, seeing a stunning redhead about to knock a second time.

Opening the door, her body still on full display, Ann asked politely, "May I help you?"

The woman was petite, her large chest stretching the confines of the tight white minidress she was wearing. It zippered up the front, and the top was in a position that showed off her impressive cleavage. She was in her mid 40s, her alabaster skin showing freckles. Ann was speechless, the beauty before her making her catch her breath. She'd been captured by her deep emerald eyes.

"Hello. Are you Rachel?"

"Yes."

"Good afternoon, Rachel. I'm Janet. I'm your masseuse this weekend. I have my things. Are you ready for me?"

Ann had totally forgotten about the massage she had scheduled daily every afternoon at 1:30. The prospect of it happening in her room made her smile.

"Of course. Come in, Janet." Janet had a large bag on her shoulder. She leaned to her right, grabbing the handle of a huge fold-up table. "Do you need some help with that?"

"No. I'm used to it. I'm going to set up right here in the living room, if you don't mind."

"Close to the windows please. I love the natural sunlight."

"I can tell. You have a beautiful tan. I'm glad to see you're not modest," she said as she dropped the bag on a chair and quickly opened the table. It was the actual type used in the profession, portable, but sturdy. Ann couldn't help but think of Phoebe Buffay, another female character in Friends who was a masseuse in the sitcom. She had a table very similar. The connection between Janet's job and the moniker Ann was using, named after another female lead character; well, the irony made her smile.

Still, she was confused by Janet's comment.

"Excuse me?"

"Almost all of the people I've come in contact with at the hotel since they hired me on want to stay covered when I work on them. Hell, most of them want to stay dressed. It's hard to get them to relax when their morals bind them up. It's no wonder they need a massage, but dammit, let me do my job so I can actually help you."

"Oh... I see."

"Massages are meant to be given when you're naked. I don't mind being discrete. I'll cover their fun parts with a towel if they want. But don't make my job harder."

"I couldn't agree more."

"I love the look you're going for. It certainly set the mood when you opened the door. But why don't you get out of those wet things and hop up on the table," she said, patting the cushioned top. "And as much as I love them, lose the heels too. I'm going to spend some time working on those pretty feet of yours.

Ann went into the bathroom and took off the suit, hanging it on the shower rod to dry. She also kicked off her shoes. She returned with a towel, drying off her damp skin on the way before casually discarding it on the couch. Standing in front of Janet proudly, her hands on her hips, she asked, "How do you want me?"

"Amenable. I love it! Face down to start, please. Put your face in the opening. Arms down at your side a little away from your torso. Legs slightly spread for me please."

"How long do we have?"

"How long of a nap do you want?"

"Pardon?"

"Heather told me you need a nap to rest up for your evening activities. I'm not sure what that means. None of my business, really. I'm here for a minimum of a half-hour, but I can stay up to an hour if you'd like. My next appointment isn't until 2:45, on the second floor."

"Well, if this is as relaxing as I think it's going to be, I won't need as much sleep, because I'll sleep much better. Let's go with an hour."

"Perfect. That let's me really be able to work out your kinks."

"I have a lot of them."

"You do? You look in amazing shape."

"Not the muscle kind, Janet. I was talking about the sexual variety. I have a lot of those," she teased. "I'm not sure you can get rid of them in just an hour. I'm the kind if girl that keeps looking for more."

"Ha! You're a firecracker, aren't you! This is going to be fun."

Ann zoned out the first half-hour. Janet was amazing. She was professional, but she was also very, very good at her job. Ann was so relaxed it was a wonder she didn't fall asleep on the table. The only reason she didn't was because Janet would subtly do things that would keep her on edge. The things she'd done to her feet had her dripping. When she worked on her shoulders, her hot breath would land on the nape of her neck as she leaned in for leverage. And then there was the way she worked her lower back and ass. Ann wanted to cum so bad, hoping for some kind of direct stimulation she knew would never come. Janet wasn't that kind of massage therapist.

That's what she thought, anyway. When Ann rolled over for her, her nipples hard and erect, their eyes met. She saw the naughty spark in Janet's. At least she hoped she did. It was probably wishful thinking.

Janet squirted the warm oil she'd been using on Ann's skin, and began with her legs. She also engaged her client for the first time since she started. Ann was looking at her, a longing in her eyes. Janet took that as a sign to become closer. After all, they'd be seeing each other twice more over the weekend. It was important to her to create more of a bond.

"You know, I said you were a firecracker. I hadn't gotten a good look at your mound. Looks like you come pre-lit."

"Yeah... and you had me really close to going off before you had me turn over," she moaned sexily.

"I'm not really that kind of masseuse."

"I'm not sure my body was factoring that in. My clit has a mind of it's own sometimes, especially when I'm kinda worked up."

"Hmm... I'll try to be more careful on this side."

"Please. Don't. I'm loving this."

They made small talk, Janet aking questions; Ann trying to honestly answer them. She actually answered most as she normally would, drawing on her personal life instead of what she thought Rachel might say. It made the interaction feel more authentic to her.

That changed when Janet asked what she did for a living. Ann didn't know if she was an actual new employee of the hotel or not. She certainly seemed to be. If that were true, telling her Rachel's profession would have been risky. It could actually put Heather in a compromising situation. Yet there was always the possibility, albeit unlikely, that she was a plant.

Ann decided to play it safe, but also try to be close to her weekend persona as possible. Drawing on what she actually did as a part-time job made that a bit easier.

"I work in the sex industry."

"Oh my God, are you serious?"

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"Are... are you a... hooker?"

"Are you a cop?" she winked.

"No. Why would you think that?"

Ann shrugged. "Entrapment happens every day."

"So you are."

"Let's just say that I provide happiness to men and women in an area that most people find uncomfortable to talk about publicly."

"I've never met a hooker before."

"Well, I'm not saying you've met one now. And if I were in that field, I'd like to think I'd be viewed as a prostitute."

"What's the difference?"

"Meeting people in nice hotel rooms instead of street corners," she winked. "But seriously, I'm not going to confirm that."

"You're not really denying it."

"Like I said, I do provide the people I meet with sexual gratification they wouldn't have had if we'd not met. I've been known to be a very loving and patient teacher."

"I'm really not sure how you could categorize it otherwise."

"There are a lot of categories that fall into the sex worker trade. I consider myself more of a therapist of sorts. I listen to what people desires and fantasies are, and I try to find ways for them to live them out. There's nothing like the feeling of knowing you've been with someone, and they take that experience home to their own bedroom."

"My goodness, Rachel. That's one of the healthiest outlooks I've ever heard before."

"It's really all about getting to know your client, reading them, and then giving them what they need. We communicate more with our eyes and our body language than we do with our mouths. That's the reality of the human experience. The more we're in tune with those signals, the more true and compassionate we can be."

"I'm speechless. I've never considered any of that before."

Ann slowly opened her thighs wider, exposing her bare, wet pussy. "You should. We all give off signals."

"Are you... "

"You're just a couple of delicately placed digits away from the fringes of world I reside in."

"I... I told you, that's not the kind of masseuse I am."

"And yet, it would only take a loving gesture on your part to become one. I'm not suggesting you start giving a bunch of happy endings to everyone. It should never be expected or requested. But again, read the client. Sometimes we need to do what our heart tells us is right. And trust me, giving like that? The experience is powerful. That's why I do it. Hell, sometimes I think I'd do it for free. Fortunately, I'm good at what I do and my services are in demand."

"So, you want me to... "

"No Janet. I meant what I said. I have no right to ask or demand. What you're doing is incredible. Please don't feel pressured. I'm a big girl. I can certainly take care of myself when we're done if I need to. To be honest, I'd rather you not at this point because it would seem contrived. You've been wonderful, and I don't want to make things awkward going forward."

Janet looked at Ann, watching her breathe with her eyes closed. She was relaxed. Content. She believed her. She didn't have an agenda. She was fine with the way things were.

She finished her work, but it was on her mind when Ann hopped off the table. "That was fantastic, Janet. I feel like I should hug you, but I don't want to get this oil all over your outfit."

"Yeah... that would be bad," she laughed as she excused herself to the kitchen to wash her hands. "So, tomorrow?"

"I'm already looking forward to it," Ann smiled brightly.

"Me too."

"I'm going to go hop in the shower. Can you let yourself out?"

"Sure. It was lovely to meet you."

"Likewise. Have a good day."

"Good luck tonight," she waved as Ann ducked into the bedroom, heading to the bathroom. Folding up the table, Janet shook her head. "Dammit... that was my chance. I should have made her cum."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ann was in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair. The wake up call startled her, but she'd woken up incredibly refreshed. The excitement of what she might be doing the rest of her night bringing with it an energy that seemed boundless. So much that she needed to temper it a bit. With that in mind, she was a third of the way through her first joint of the evening.