You Get a Massage

'Er,' you say. 'Thanks?'

She laughs fully and loudly then, her body rippling with her happiness. 'You fuck like that and then you go back to not knowing what to say except thanks?!'

You can't help but laugh back, scratching the back of your head awkwardly. 'I... have not done anything like this before.'

'Me neither,' she says. 'Really!' she continues quickly, seeing your dubious expression. 'I've... helped people to calm down before, but I've never... got so involved.'

'Well,' you say, unable to stop smiling, 'I'm very flattered.'

She hops off the table and leans down to pick up the towel that had once covered you; as she bends over, you get your first good look at a tight, round pair of buttocks between which her open, flushed lips are still dripping. She wipes her face and chest, then turns and throws the towel to you. You pat your tumescent, leaking cock awkwardly; she snorts with amusement, standing tall and proud before you.

'I think that's about all our time used up,' she says, beginning to pull her clothes back on, 'but... I might be persuaded to give you my friends' discount, if you want to come back some time. There's still some tension I don't think we got the chance to work out.'

'I'd like that,' you say.

You slide your clothes back on - she stands there watching you, rather than leave the room as you suspect would usually be the case - and open the door.

'Until next time,' you tell her.

She nods. 'Until next time.'