Covid Conquests Ch. 03

Angela had sent this message to me two days earlier. I didn't know how quickly she'd respond, if at all. Perhaps she had even moved on to someone else. It's certainly a lesson I've learned, when you set our sights on someone you move in with precision and you don't wait for other opportunities to develop which might undermine your approach.

With that done, it was now time to look at what my massage therapist had to say. Mary-anne had been my registered massage therapist for the past 4 years. She was 34 back then, and now 38. She was a very attractive woman with a tone body because of a dedication to fitness.

Victoria when to the gym every day. Mary-anne took it to a different level. I doubted there was an ounce of fat on her body. She was married with two young children. It was hard to believe babies had come out of that body.

Mary-anne was maybe an inch shorter than me and at half my weight, very slender with shorter (shoulder-length) blonde straight hair. It was my opinion only, but I saw her as very straight-laced.

Victoria had a natural sexuality about her. Mary-anne never gave off that kind of vibe. She was naturally attractive but had no desire to be noticed by men. It was an attractiveness that wasn't sexual. Cinderella may be attractive, but I don't have to find her sexy. She was a completely legitimate registered massage therapist, and I was seeing her to deal with a problem I was experiencing.

That problem of mine was relatively serious, and kind of funny. It involved a muscle I had never heard of -- the piriformis. It just happens to be located in your upper butt -- on each side. When its sore, it can get really sore. Sitting down was actually getting bothersome. Getting out of a car was hard. Pills provided temporary relief. But the pain got serious enough for me to take seriously. Physiotherapy, private yoga sessions, and massage therapy became part of my routine.

Now if you know me by now, you'll know that I would insist on going to someone really good at what they do. And for the yoga and the massage therapy, these people had to be good, female, and attractive. That's just my way. You get added value this way by having something to stare at.

I'm not making that up. I insisted on private yoga lessons simply because I wanted to look like a fool in front of as few people as possible. Hot chicks look great in yoga poses. I don't.

I was seeing my massage therapist twice a week for two-hour sessions each time in the beginning. With the massage therapist going to have their hands on me for that length of time, it would be just so much nicer if those hands were female hands and that she was attractive. This was especially true if those hands were working on my ass. I didn't want them to be a guy's hands. And I'd prefer an attractive, rather than unattractive, woman's hands on me -- who wouldn't? The truth is, Mary-anne's massages hurt. But I'd still rather have her hurting me than a guy.

With the private yoga lessons, the poses I was working on were very basic -- the only value-add I could think of was to choose someone who looked good in yoga pants or even better in yoga shorts.

Now as it happens, Mary-anne, also wore yoga pants religiously. They made her ass look magnificent. She'd never wear make-up. She'd add a baggy t-shirt or tank top to the yoga pants. She wasn't interested in trying to be sexy. She was very attractive, but simply not interested in showing it. And that's fair enough. When you're on your stomach, wearing only your underwear, and someone's elbows are drilling down into your ass cheek, it was of small comfort to know it was an attractive woman who was doing so.

It took over a year of my life -- it really required a dedicated approach -- and my problem disappeared. I gave up the yoga early. But I kept the massage therapy up, although gradually decreased the number of appointments -- I just didn't want a relapse.

In the year before the pandemic, I saw Mary-anne less and less frequently to the point where the last time I saw her was around Christmas. I had gotten to the point where her massages were "relaxation massages". My particular problem was a thing of the past. There was no reason to see her except to look at her ass or feel her hands on my body.

I had gotten to know Mary-anne fairly well. She was definitely someone in remote control going through her daily/weekly/monthly routines. She wasn't exploring anything new. Even when she traveled, it would be to a place she'd already been. Her marriage sounded stable and rather stale.

There was one interesting item worthy of discussion though. In maybe the fourth or fifth last time I saw her, she, for the first time, was wearing a pair of jeans. With such great legs and an amazing ass, this was something special to see.

Again, please understand I have never in any way pursued Mary-anne sexually. I enjoyed looking at her ass. But in the two-hour sessions, most of the time I couldn't see it. Seeing her in tight yoga pants was always a treat. But that ass in jeans was something special.

You can imagine that over the many sessions with her, I found out a lot about her. In my opinion, she was one of these people firmly stuck in her routine. It would take an earthquake to change that.

Her husband travelled a lot across the country. The nanny took care of the kids when she was working on someone. She spent a lot of time with the kids the rest of the time.

While she was working me over, I teased her about wearing jeans. Told her she should wear them more often. Her reply was, "That's not going to happen. They are way less comfortable than yoga pants." That was the end of that. There was no acknowledgement of the compliment. And that is fair enough really.

I'm known as being persistent. My success in life -- for what I've had of it -- doesn't come from my looks. It doesn't come from being the life of the party. It comes from a few things. I know myself very well. I study the situation well. And I'm persistent. I just don't give up when things don't at first work out.

The next time I saw Mary-anne I joked about not wearing jeans again. I was teasing her; wanting to get a reaction out of her. I already knew she found yoga pants more comfortable. I didn't forget this. It was a way of saying she looked impressive in tight jeans. I really didn't expect much of a reaction, and I really didn't get much of one.

Mary-anne responded, "I see they made an impression on you." She then told me, again, yoga pants were way more comfortable, as if I hadn't heard that the first time.

For the remaining times I saw her up until Christmas, I probably mentioned her not wearing jeans once or twice more. I got a smile out of her, nothing more.

I heard from her a couple of times wondering if I wanted to schedule anything. But as the pandemic began, it wasn't something I was very interested in. She was allowed to remain open - out of her office in her home basement. I had no medical reason to see her and didn't want to have to lie there on her table for an hour or two wearing a mask.

So now -- Mary-anne was again hoping to convince me to start seeing her. I could imagine that her business was drying up due to the pandemic. People were avoiding each other more than earlier on. She said she wanted to speak.

I took a chance and called her. I was absolutely not thinking about getting into her pants. I want to make that clear. I was being just a nice guy to someone I knew. I absolutely was not thinking about going for a massage. I just didn't want to put myself in a situation where I'd be wearing a mask for hours. And I didn't need one. I didn't need an extra person I'm in contact with.

If I were to violate the pandemic rules it would be in small ways, not large. I wouldn't go to indoor parties. I would go to a hotel room to fuck Victoria. And if I were to violate the pandemic rules it would be for a big payoff, not a little one.

Somewhat to my surprise, Mary-anne answered the phone. We exchanged pleasantries. She had just finished dinner, while I hadn't even thought about mine yet. She told me she had a lot going on.

She told me her husband has been transferred out west. It would be for 6 to 18 months. He is allowed to come back twice a month for a few days each time. The air travel is stressful, particularly now. She was staying here with her kids. She told me he had to take a temporary pandemic pay cut too -- all employees did across the board where he worked. And yes, her business had dried up, and she really had to do something about it which was why she was calling. She mentioned she didn't want to lose her nanny.

I was trying to connect the dots on what she was saying and asked her about the nanny issue. Mary-anne suggested we get together and grab a cup of coffee somewhere and drink them outside while walking. It was still warm enough to do that comfortably. It was clear she wanted to do that sooner rather than later. We agreed to do so the next day.

Ninety minutes later I had had something to eat for dinner and had heard back from Angela.

She was all in on meeting me in a hotel room. She was hoping we could do this next week. She again apologized for backing out last time, but waitressing was the solution she needed back then. Now that wasn't a possibility.

She was hoping the deal I offered was still open. It was pay-per-meet offer. I always go in a little high -- I'm not too interested in trying to negotiate a lower price when I just want to get my hands on something.

Angela remembered my outfit requests and said they wouldn't be a problem. She remembered I wanted eye-shadow and red lipstick. Apparently, that wasn't going to be a problem either. And she also remembered my request that she get tested for sexually transmitted diseases. She informed me she would be getting tested tomorrow if I agreed to meet her. She was available in the afternoons, only Tuesday and Wednesday.

I, of course, was going to be fucking Victoria on Tuesday. I was beginning to think it would be nice if weeks were more than 7 days. Spending a day in bed with Victoria only to spend the afternoon in bed with Angela seemed rather tiring.

So -- I needed to respond. On the one hand, I wanted it to happen. Even if it were only a one-time thing, I'd like the opportunity to fuck her. Angela, don't forget, had gone AWOL on me. We had actually agreed on the details as to what the terms of our relationship should be and started arranging our first meeting, and then she simply stopped responding. She didn't, at the time, let me know she would go the waitressing route. She just stopped responding. Suddenly being non-responsive isn't all that unusual. It's not a regular occurrence, but it happens.

Now, Angela's needs were more immediate, and she was offering me the opportunity to fuck her. Well, given she disappeared on me, I seemed appropriate I should at least once actually get to fuck her. She knew, for the relationship to continue, we both had to want it to continue. There was no guarantee, upfront, that after our first meeting we'd like each other. And at this point, I wasn't going to tell her about Victoria.

My approach to Angela was short term, while my approach to Victoria was particularly long term. And I could not see my way in have a sugar relationship with two women at the same time. But given all the work I put into getting to the point of meeting her - given all the work I put into trying to meet a hot young chick in general- and given all I had paid for to use that website, surely, I should bet my payback by fucking the girl at least once. At the very least, it was another notch in my belt, to score with a hot 21-yr-old chick.

And so, I suggested we meet at a different hotel than where I was meeting Victoria on next Wednesday. I gave her the location and time. I spelled out a particular routine.

As you'll recall, the details matter to me. Any of the relationships I've had, have been based on living up to my end of the bargain and insisting on everything we do to be 100% consensual. I need agreement from them; and I need them to know that if they say "stop" even in the middle of doing something, I will stop immediately. The big turn on for me is their willingness. You lose their willingness and I'm done.

At the same time, I also like to push boundaries. To the prospective babe I tell them I like to "explore" their boundaries; take them to new territory. It's funny. If you tell a girl you want to push their boundaries, they get worried. When you tell her you want to explore those boundaries, it sounds hotter, perhaps kinkier. Don't ask me why. Just try it. The words you use are precision tools.

I instructed Angela as to how our meeting would proceed. I'd get a room at the hotel and go to it. When she arrived at the hotel and parked her car, she should message me, and I will respond with the room number. When she came up to the room, before saying a word, she should give me a long slow kiss on the mouth. Then, we would spend some time talking before we got into things sexual.

The immediate kiss on the mouth was important to me. I wanted to be the only guy she'd ever kissed before ever talking to. It's little things like this that are the jewels I collect. It's not a crown jewel, but don't think for a moment it's not precious.

For Angela, it pushes her boundaries into promiscuity. She was attempting a sugar relationship with a man more than 30 years older than her. She would be kissing him the moment they actually meant. She'd be fucking him some minutes later. She obviously did have boundaries. She chose waitressing over a sugar relationship with me just months earlier. She was close to making the jump but backed away. Now, it seemed she intended to cross the line, and I was going to attempt to push her to get a little bit further over it.

By the sounds of it, next week was going to be a busy week for my cock. I went to bed that night thinking about the three women who, thanks to the pandemic, were wanting to spend time with me -- two of whom were willing to take care of me sexually.

I woke up at 9 a.m. the next morning. I've been sleeping really well, particularly after my all-day sessions with Victoria. I'm getting into a deeper sleep. I'm falling asleep more quickly. I'm not waking up in the middle of the night. It's amazing the other benefits you get when a hot chick drains your nuts regularly.

I know for certain that when I was younger, getting that hot chick in bed boosted my overall confidence levels in every other aspect of my life. You can call me whatever names you want, but these experiences had a measurable positive impact on me. I hope that's food for thought for you.

So -- I had to get dressed quickly. I was meeting Mary-anne at 10 a.m. at a Starbucks not too far from where she lived. The late time meant showering getting dressed, and foregoing breakfast.

It was clear to me that she wanted to meet for reasons beyond just wanting me to check in for a massage. She had mentioned her nanny. I didn't understand my connection to that.

And so we met. I saw her from a bit of a distance as I parked my car. She didn't see me yet. Of course, the first thing I noticed was that she was wearing tight jeans. It looked like she was wearing a buttoned shirt (not a baggy t-shirt!) and what I would guess was a leather jacket. She already had her mask on, even though she was outside. For all she looked good in yoga pants, the jeans were a step forward, in my opinion.

I walked to meet her, mask in hand. We greeted each other but kept our distance as we lined up to by a coffee. We continued to exchange pleasantries and small talk as we exited with our coffees. Everyone is well with her family, adjusting to Adam -- her husband -- being away so much. The boys miss him, of course. This is the point where she finally said something that caught my attention.

"I even remembered to wear jeans for you," she said with a smile, clearly wanting a reaction from me.

Now think about that for a moment. We're talking pleasantries and her family situation, and she changes the direction of the conversation on a dime. Always do your math. The calculus here is important. If she just wanted to get me in for a massage, she wouldn't have needed to meet. She wants to talk about something that talking about it in person would be better for her. And now she's basically telling me she's wearing tight jeans for me. There is something further here that needs to be found out. It doesn't mean I'm about to score. But it does mean something is up. And it also means that there was a payoff for my repeated mentions about her wearing her jeans now. I had been teasing her about it. I understood yoga pants were more comfortable. If I hadn't mentioned it, she probably wouldn't be wearing them. She was wearing them, though, and better yet she was wearing them for me.

Remember, the details really matter in every aspect of life. This was likely Mary-anne's first time trying to look sexier for a man other than her husband. Regardless of where this was going, at the moment, I was liking my life.

I told her that I had noticed, and that "you're looking great." I wanted to say "hot" but didn't. I, then, promised to be checking her out as we walked. She smiled at that.

As we started walking down a fairly main street, now mask-less, she began to tell me her situation.

People aren't coming in for their massages due to the pandemic. She's not bringing in any money and given she's not working and he's earning less, her husband wants her to give up the nanny.

That, in a nutshell, was the nanny connection. Basically, his position was that if she could stay with the kids, they could save the expense on the nanny.

Mary-anne absolutely did not want to lose the nanny. She said her sanity depended on having her. She understood how Adam felt. The only solution she could think of was to try to find some clients who would see her on a regular basis -- and if she were able to do that, she'd be keeping her kids' nanny.

Her problem was getting worse, though. Massage Therapy Clinics were allowed to be open. The rules did not say that you could operate out of your house, though, now. Her husband had pointed this out.

Her mission, then, was to find a clinic that might take her on for a day or two, and then find clients willing to come in.

It sounded very complicated. It sounded like something that wouldn't happen. "I wanted to try to convince you to see me weekly again," she said with a hopeful look.

"Even if I did, where are you going to find a place for this?" I asked. "And if you do find a place, don't they get some of the income?"

"I don't know if I can find a place and I'd have to be able to see enough clients to cover the additional costs. I get to keep most. I need to find a place that has a table available for the same times as my client's need."

"Do you have enough clients lined up for this?" I asked, doing my best not to sound incredulous.

"No -- no one wants to come regularly anymore. I don't know what to do."

I had to deconstruct this to see if there was any solution possible here that I could be a part of. I thought about the possibility of trying to find a way of simply backing out, but a quick glance at her denim-clad ass changed my mind. "Let's start at the beginning, here, to see if we can figure this out. You have to cover your nanny expense. Can you tell me how much you pay her?"

Now I'm sure you'll know nannies are paid very poorly. You can condemn me all you want. You can condemn Victoria all you want. But now, I'm judging you all. Nannies are severely underpaid for their labour. It's not fair; it's not right. Market conditions discriminate against almost all nannies.

The per week cost for her nanny added up to a bit less than what I was giving Victoria if I looked at it on a weekly basis.