Teaser from Mile High Scrub

Brad didn’t bother averting his eyes. He knew Carrie had a trim figure, just from looking at her fully clothed, but when she dropped her gown, he almost gasped at her shape, slender and smooth. And that was just her back. How he wished there was a mirror on the far wall. 

The jungle plants climbing the wall must be getting a good eyeful. She covered her breasts with her arms as she lowered herself onto the massage table, and then glanced over at Brad.

“You peeked!” she said, glaring at him.

“Fat lot of good it did me,” he said. “Ah, you have a lovely back, for what it’s worth.”

“You know, I’d never heard anyone say that before. Thank you.”

Doubtless all the compliments were reserved for whatever lay on the other side, Brad thought. Still, she did have a sweetly contoured back, and he imagined running his fingers lightly down her flanks.

His thoughts were interrupted by the masseuses entering. Janet normally manned the spa’s front desk, but when a Private Lounge member has a need, it gets satisfied if at all possible.

The next twenty minutes were heaven. Linda’s hands worked over his back, seeking out every knot of muscle and tension, soothing them into submission. He could feel the tightness easing away. She was firm in her technique, and he winced now and again, but the increasing looseness in his back was its own reward.

The scent of the oil, the soft music playing, the green of the rainforest walls, all combined to make his treatment pleasant, soothing, and mellow. 

Judging from the sounds coming from the other table, Carrie’s back bliss massage was even more enjoyable. 

But eventually the bliss came to an end. Brad’s masseuse wiped away all the oil from his back and shoulders, draped a towel over him, and reminded him that he had five minutes to get dressed, there would be fresh green tea afterwards and to enjoy their flight.

“You need to wake your partner,” she said, and quietly walked out.

They were alone. Brad, with some reluctance, sat up, leaving the towel draped around his shoulders.

Carrie was lying front-down on her table, breathing gently and slowly, her head pillowed on her arms. A towel had been spread over her back, and all that was visible was a blonde head. Facing away.

He regarded the towel. He could slide it down and gently caress her naked skin, waking her gently, and breathing life into his innocent fantasy.

Then again, that was what had put her to sleep in the first place. Likely she’d sigh and snuggle down deeper.

On the other hand, beautiful topless woman. It wasn’t as if Brad’s life was exactly overflowing with these at the moment. If he removed the towel would she remember it had been placed there at all?

But, and here he was running out of hands, they both had planes to catch.

He walked around to the other side. Carrie’s face was in repose, her mouth slightly open. He admired her for a moment.

He bent down. “Carrie?”

No response.

Louder. “Carrie um, Watson!”

A flicker behind her eyelids. Then nothing more.

“Ms Carrielle Watson! Your flight to Paris is now boarding at gate 69. This is your final boarding call.”

Paris. Geez, where had that come from? A long-ago holiday in the City of Love. With a student lawyer, equally blonde, equally desirable. Strange how the mind’s wants lay under the surface, ready to be called forth at a touch.

Carrie’s eyes flipped open. And closed again.

“Come on. You’ve got a plane to catch. Up and at ‘em!”

Her eyes opened again. And stayed open.

“Oooh, I was having the most marvellous dream. And you were in it.”

She sat up and stretched. The towel slid to the floor and Brad’s eyes became as round and as wide as the pinky-brown circles at the tips of two of the most perfectly rounded breasts it had ever been his pleasure to contemplate within kissing range.

He stepped back a pace. His eyes roamed over her body as she raised arms over her head and leaned one way and then the other, her neck arching back, exposing a long white throat.

She leaned forward, studying him. And his own bare chest, he suddenly realised. She said nothing, but her eyes were talking to him. 

He dropped his eyes again. Her breasts were goosebumps, her aureola crinkled and tight, her nipples pointing out.

He bowed his head and kissed one, taking it right into his mouth. A touch of tongue, curling the tip around…

Carrie pulled it from his mouth. Christ, what was he thinking?

“Do the other one.”

Written by Britni Pepper

Britni Pepper has always enjoyed telling stories. About people, places and pleasures. Her schoolmates loved listening to her stories about princesses and pirates and dragons, and once she looked up to find the principal looking on. "No, no, don't stop, Britni," he said. "I want to hear what happens next!" What happened next was university, a job in the travel industry, and a career of travelling the world meeting the most fascinating people. Britni has travelled to thirty of the world's nations and loves making up stories about fascinating people doing interesting things in exotic places. No longer tales about princes and wizards, but her stories are just as much fantasy as ever.

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