OZone 09 : Foot Traffic

"Gloria? I want to apologize for the way we bickered yesterday. I feel horrible. You can take your time repaying me for the cash advance." pouted the stunning Jordan Bauer.

Her portly Hostess Gloria Marquette merely frowns, "No big deal. It was my fault. I shouldn't have been abusing the phone line. No hard feelings. I'll pay you back you can bet on that."

Jordy paused at her words uncertain how to take her blond friend. If you could call her that. Jordan wanted to. But, that was her nature to be forgiving. Instead of continuing on the subject Jordan smiles and eases in beside Gloria to look over her client schedule. After her deal with Officer Craig Weston, Jordan had high hopes to continue her new found opportunity to increase her business arrangements. She prayed that she could maintain her nerve and entice other favored clients into her web of much needed money. She told herself over the course of the night before that she could go slightly further in time. Baby steps she thought. Let things happen in a natural succession. If the response was warranted then she would increase incentive.

"Clayton Huddle", she noticed was due to arrive in twenty minutes. Clayton was a very wealthy man in the area, owning the local Country Club. If she could win him over he might discreetly recommend her services. It was a huge risk she knew. He could easily turn her in and ruin her reputation. Knowing the man's flirtatious side somehow she knew she would have no trouble keeping his attention.

On the golf course he was known as, "9 Iron".

She giggled knowing very well how he got the nickname. To her she preferred to call him "CHUDDLE" because of his teddy bear build. Slightly overweight merely due to his height. He stood at an inch shorter than Jordan. With a sigh she pats Gloria on the shoulder, "Can you get the Remedy Room set up for Clayton?"

With a hidden grin Gloria Marquette swivels around, "My pleasure, Boss."

Stepping away from Jordan who sat herself down on the bar stool behind her counter to ponder, Gloria went down the hall pausing to look back before going to the laundry room.

Cautiously she lifts a mound of towels to obtain a tiny camera. A Nanny cam. Eyes narrowed she heads for the Remedy Room where she had set up an old VCR to record by. After being satisfied of it being ready she stocks the shelves and sets the cam up for a perfect visual toward the massaging table. Well hidden she chuckles, "Here's your payback you skinny bitch."

Greed had a new name. She had overheard the conversation yesterday between Jordan and Craig Weston. Including his deafening moans. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Jordan was up to no good. In a sense Gloria admired her Boss for that. If only she didn't hate her so much. That, and her addiction to drugs required finance.

She chuckles at the recollection of Jordan's concern about her getting enough sleep. Who needs sleep? Returning to the lobby Gloria squeezes Jordan's shoulders, "All ready, Chief. Give 'em hell."

Jordan smiled, "See. I like this side of you. Why can't we get along like this every day?"

The hefty woman shrugs, "I'll work on it if you will."

Jordan nods with lips pressed into a thin smile, "Welcome home, Gloria."

At a shared laugh Jordan notes Clayton Huddle parking his SUV across the street. "There's 9 Iron."

Gloria merely rolled her eyes, "Inadequacy. Trust me. Names like that always are. Not that I'd care to find out. That there's some ugly old stuff."

Jordan frowns, "Be nice. Clayton's a sweetheart."

Gloria Marquette zipped her lip with a distasteful giggle.

Three minutes pass as Clayton Huddle a balding man with a thin moustache entered the Parlor. His smile was a huge assist to Jordy's confidence, "Morning Ladie's. I hope those hands are strong today, Jordy. The ole lady stresses me out."

Jordan held her breath, she hadn't considered that he was happily married. Like she was. A glance at her ring almost made her cry. Could she do this? Should she? A second more to breath she stepped to the edge of her counter, "Tough as nails, Clayton. Let's go leave some fingerprints."

He follows her back into the Remedy Room where she hops up to sit on the massaging table to offer him a glimpse of her legs from the shorts down. He pauses to sense a different persona out of the Masseuse he had grown to know fondly, "You seem chipper, Jordy. Must have pinned your Husband down and got some, huh?"

She smiles sheepishly, "Actually, no. Doug's been busy with his blueprints. He comes home late and all he wants to do is sleep." Clayton winces, "His loss. Maybe he's forgetting what he's got. Try refreshing his memory. Seduce him."

She giggles, "I might take that advice. It's been so long since I've done that I'm not certain I recall how."

He nods, "I know that. My wife doesn't know the meaning. Why do you think I live at the Club. Going home is just plain depressing." He notes her biting her lip and maintaining a lengthy gaze, "I'll just go change."

She puckers watching him vanish behind the blind to get undressed, wrapping a towel around his waist. She fidgets looking at her wedding band with hesitation before narrowing her eyes, "Clayton? Can I ask you something personal?"

The middle aged man steps into view, "Sure."

She crosses her arms lifting a hand to her lips in thought, "Do you believe in marriage these days?"

His eyebrows raise pondering the question, "I couldn't survive without "Janice". I mean she keeps my books. I'd be audited in a week if not for her. Twenty three years we've been married. I love the woman but I guess the magic's gone. Why? You feeling like your own magic's gone?"

She faintly grins, "No. Our marriage is beautiful. I just feel like something is missing sometimes. Sex when it happens is out of this world, but even that is few and far between. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping my boundary. I mean we've known each other awhile now, yet I really don't know you at all, Clayton."

He nods in agreement.

"We could all use a little more spice in our lives I guess. Would you hate me if I gave you a compliment?"

She giggles, "Why would I?"

He lowers his gaze then ticks from the side of his mouth, "You've got a great set of legs."

She sits stunned for a moment then lifts her left leg to run her hands up the sides of her thighs. Lowering it with vigor she accidentally kicks off her sandal in his direction.

"Oops!" She laughs, almost embarrassed as the pump literally collides with his crotch.

He chuckles looking down at the shoe at his feet then bends over to pick it up, "Dangerous today aren't we?"

She starts to step down from the table but he moves forward halting her. "Allow me."

His left hand lifts her calf and delicately places the sandal back on her foot. With a warm smile she blushes, "Are you playing footsie with me?"

He merely winks releasing her leg to let it drop. In it's downward motion the foot grazes over his crotch lightly. He stands stunned by her eye contact, "Am I mistaken or was that on purpose?"

She wants to admit her plan but maintains her balancing act. "Now you know why I can't dance. Two left feet."

He swallows with a hint of disappointment, "I guess we should get started. My hours going fast."

Jordan notes the clock on the wall, "Your time starts now. It's my fault for making you wait on my silly questions."

He shrugs, "My back's killing me. I don't know why I let my Wife walk all over me like I do. Stress is killer."

Jordan immediately found inspiration in that. "There's an idea. Seeing as you seem to like my legs and feet so much. How about I walk on your back?"

He hisses looking at the table, "You might fall and break your neck."

She frowns, "Good point. We could places towels on the floor?"

He shakes his head realizing this opportunity might never happen again.

"Let's live on the wild side. You just might need help getting me up."

She winks, "Somehow I don't see that as a dilemma." She goes over to the towel shelf and collects four towels almost nudging the Nanny cam which goes unseen. Returning to Clayton she kneels down spreading the towels out to keep him from the cold flooring.

"There."

She turns to look up at Clayton with doe like eyes of innocence. Meeting her gaze immediately raises his manhood lifting the towel around his waist up slightly. She blushes as she lowers her gaze toward it allowing him to witness her curiosity.

"What have I told you about bringing your clubs to our sessions?"

He tilts his head back in laughter, "Sorry about that. Some things just can't be helped."

She fidgets, "All things can be helped."

He sighs at her expression, "Where is this conversation leading?"

She pauses then pats the floor, "Down here."

Taking his hand she pulls herself up then encourages him to stretch out over the towels. Once he looked comfortable she quickly went to the counter along the wall and nuked some massaging oil in a microwave before returning to him. Kicking both of her sandals off she teases him with her toes up and down his legs, "Can you support my weight?"

He grins up at her, "As Aerosmith used to sing, "Walk this Way"."

She tests her balance at the middle of his back easing her way up and down his spine. Pressing gently in areas of forewarned agony. Kneading the ball of her right foot into his shoulder blades he moans repeatedly. She knew she had him where she wanted him. "How am I doing, Clayton?"

He groans, "You dance divinely."

Eyes brightly glistening from her challenged soul she steps down off of him and holds her oil bottle over him to pour droplets up and down his body. The warmth made him sigh. Then came her left foot rolling the oil over his spine. His moans grew vibrant. "That feels really good. You surprise me, Jordan. I never knew you had this sort of treatment in you. I learn something new every day."

She dribbles more oil over his legs and switches her feet standing on the towels for traction. Gracefully her toes tantalize his legs cautiously moving beneath the towel around his waist. He freezes up at her boldness but says nothing. Suddenly, he widens the span of his legs feigning discomfort of their current position.

She leers down at him with an evil grin inching her toes upward until she feels his scrotum. Careful rhythm's jostle the full sack about. "That's some Caddy you have here, Clayton."

He sighs, "I'm not sure what to say. What brought this on?"

She removes her foot, "I've offended you?"

Clayton rolls on to his side looking up at her, "Not even. I'm just curious as to why I'm getting such good treatment."

She bites her lower lip before offering her reason, "I guess you can say I feel mischievous. Should I stop?"

He takes a deep breath, "Well, my manhood says no. My marriage certificate says yes. How far are we talking here?"

She shows him her wedding band, "I feel the same way. That is except for my manhood."

He admires her giggle then lowers his eyes to her legs before him. Taking a deep breath he reaches out rubbing his right palm up her leg then back down softly. He notes her eyes close at how good the sensation felt. His hand rises again going further before sliding downward yet again. Numerous times his hand soars up sliding fingers beneath her white shorts casually grazing her underwear at the crotch.

He could feel a dampness brewing with each time he slid his fingers into place. She shivers at his touch. So close. Closer than any man other than her Husband had gone. Eyes opening with a smile she tilts her head shyly before planting her foot on his shoulder using her weight to lower him back to lay flat on the floor face up. She studies the rise beneath the towel he wore. Then braves the bottom using her toes to fold it aside. She follows the motion with the opposite fold of the towel until his dick came fully into view. Nine iron indeed.

Without expression she glares down at him raising her arm, bottle tilted in hand to drip oil directly on to his penis. Clayton Huddle left all reservations behind him at that display of antagonism. She slides her toes up and down the full length of his cock, lightly jostling his balls. Jordan could see the girth increase with every teasing stroke. Without waver she maintained a stern demeanor. "I know nothing about golf therefore I cannot come up with anything witty to say. Do my efforts please you, Clayton?"

He moans, "More than I care to admit. If this is the kind of treatment I can expect from here on out, jot me down every day."

She grins slightly knowing her decision to take this risk was paying off.

"How will you explain the expense to Janice? I don't want you audited because of me."

He chuckles as her toes tickle his crown, "It's my money. Is that what you're after?"

She nods carefully, "What I want doesn't matter, Clayton. What you offer to sustain my services is negotiable. Please keep in mind that my clothing stays on."

He arches his back as she continues to glide up and down his shaft delicately. "So, what your saying is, if the tip gets bigger so does your boldness?"

She shrugs without expression, "We'll see. I think that our marriages should keep some semblance of what our vows dictated. Don't you?"

He heard her but really didn't care to reply. Instead choosing to reach his hand up to stroke his own cock. She continued her foot maneuvering elsewhere. Eye contact became glued on one another as she let him jerk off in a frenzy. The touch of her foot trailing along his legs stimulated his desire. "You're an evil woman, Jordan."

She smiles mischievously, "I would help you with that but this is a foot massage. Next time?"

He nods feverishly, "Definitely going to be a next time."

For long minutes he strokes himself swelling up until he growls and feels his body tighten. Jordan places her foot right over his cock, "Paint my nails, Clayton."

Insanity struck. Clayton Huddle bursts at her playfulness coating her foot with his cum. Stroke after stroke he empties his well as she admires her foot.

"I think you owe me a foot massage, Mister Huddle."

He releases his cock and focuses on her foot rubbing in his cum like lotion.

She lightly moans at his grip. "That feels wonderful. Wasn't it nice to take this walk on the wild side, Clayton?"

He controls his breathing, "I'm not sure what brought this on but I'm glad it did. You make me feel young again. Thank you."

She pulls her foot away, "Our secret I hope?"

He pulls himself up to his knees, "If that's what you want. Obviously, I can't risk my marriage by running my mouth off."

She smiles with a wink, "You can at least recommend me. I could use the business."

Clayton stands up removing his towel, "Guess there's no point being modest is there? Sure, I'll get the word out. Best hands in Alabama, right?"

With a giggle she adds, "Feet as well." Wiping off he looks at the clock, "I have to meet Janice for lunch. I might have to take her behind the golf cart shack."

Jordan beamed with pride, "Seduction. Good idea. I might just take your advice myself. Doug will never know what hit him." Clayton laughs as he goes behind the blind and gets dressed. Within minutes he rejoins her as she places her sandals on.

"I'll just leave my foot dirty in your honor."

He sighs, "I think that deserves a healthy tip."

He draws from his wallet $200.00 handing it to her. She looks at the cash and whistles under her breath.

"Pleasure was all yours, Mister Huddle. Come back as often as you like."

He nods scratching the back of his neck. "Once a week is good. No reason to forget who my Wife is."

In response she wiggles her wedding band before his eyes, "I couldn't agree more. I need to keep my mind where it should be. Thank you for understanding me, Clayton. I'll walk you out."

He chuckles looking at her body, "Can you try that with a hand stand?"

A pat to his abdomen guides him to the door.

As they walk out they hear the bathroom flush ignoring Gloria Marquette who waits for them to move from the hallway. Once out of sight Gloria races into the room gathering the Nanny cam and the hidden VCR, hiding it in the back room for future use. "Roger Ebert? Eat your heart out."

Mid evening, the LeGend estate.

"URRRRRRRRRRP!" roared Joseph Grogan as He and Garrison Dhorne stepped outside of the LeGend Manor's back door on to a screened in porch. Gus LeGend followed suit wielding a glass of red wine and a cigar. "Now that was a dinner fit for a King." He clenches his cigar between his teeth and searches his pocket for a lighter.

Revealing a butane lighter he ignites and puffs the tobacco until a cherry burns at the end. Dhorne steps clear of the smoke and shakes his head, "Ain't no SIR in Cancer. Least ways in my book. Those things are gonna kill ya, Gus."

Joseph concurs nodding, "The fire next time, the good book says."

Oz chuckles, "Told ya, not in my book."

Gus merely smiled and continued enjoying his nightly routine. "Cheers. Lest not to waste the grapes of wrath."

"Grape Ape! Grape Ape!" chided Dhorne.

Joesph in turn found his expression amusing, "Please refrain from anything remotely Darwinism in my presence."

Oz patted him on the back, "Gorilla tactics. What can I say?"

Gus exhales a cloud of nicotine which is waved aside by both of his comrades. "Much to celebrate. Colorado awaits."

Oz and Joe glare at each other as Joe albeit whispers, "Are you certain your associates have located the armor of Francisco?" Gus tries to remain optimistic, "Faith man. Do you not tell me the same? Our family depends on returning what belongs to Us. My ancestor set foot on this land to find what God and Queen had searched for, for so many generations. Sired children. Heirs. Guardians. Built an empire and unified an Indian nation. If the engravings on the armor are any indication then, "yes" I believe it's the armor of my Greater Grandfather. We shall know soon enough. My people shall run the necessary dating and offer me resolution. As we all know Francisco left what would become Alabama and set out in search of greater glory. Undoubtedly, after his wife "Noranina" died. The lust to wander was too much to be tied down to a tribal council."

As Oz listens to his Father-in-law brag of History he notes the comparisons to his own life. Maybe that was why his In-law's had been so supportive of him. Even when he abandoned his son.

As Augustus rambled Oz inhaled deeply and drifted away. His own path taken leaving a trail of sadness. Only to find a fork in the path. Either he take one direction and find his own inner peace. Or step lively on to the other trail and come full circle with the responsibility of family and burden. A burden that most men would shy away from. Not so much being a single parent of one son, but in a sense two. One much older than time itself. One hidden from the light of day.

Lingering smoke signals from the mouth of Gus LeGend quickly nullifies his meandering thoughts.

"Gus those smoke signals you got going there is gonna bring on a war party."

His Father-in-law hesitates then respectfully extinguishes the stogy. "Old habits. Where was I? Oh, yes. If the armor is indeed Francisco's the markings will inform Us of his entire life. Legend says, pardon the pun, that Francisco used the native language of the ancient "Topasi" tribe to inscribe his findings on the armor. Like Aramaic in biblical times very few scholars know how to speak it. Luckily, I do. Even as Francisco moved on from their way of life, having been accepted as a member of their nation he maintained their language as a code."

"Not even the Choctaw Indians that inhabited Alabama before it's given name knew the language. Kept from them by the Topasi elders. Why do you ask? To prevent them from defiling sacred ground. If word would have been spread further then the white man would have pillaged the sanctity of the Baby's rest."