Walking back to work from a fast-food lunch, I had to navigate an obstacle course on the newly created sidewalk as various pieces of construction equipment were still parked. Approaching me from the opposite direction was a woman. Thinking she had also navigated this course before during this summer of road-widening construction, I smiled and said, "Still a real challenge to get through!" She smiled, and as she came next to me asked, "Do you know where Columbia Street is? Is it down there?" She pointed the direction I had just come.
"I'm not sure. What is it you are looking for?" I asked.
"An apartment complex with a vacancy," she replied. "I understand there are several on that street."
"In that case, I think you must be headed in the right direction. Come on, I'll show you where I've seen two complexes behind the Albertson's store over there." I turned around and started walking with her.
She was about 5' 8" and was wearing a coat with a hood. Her face was round, her skin milky white. She had nice teeth which showed when she smiled, which was most of the time. From what I could tell through her coat, she was probably heavy set, though not obese. I guessed she was in her mid to late 40's.
As we were walking, she told me she had taken the bus from Portland, as she wanted to get an apartment in Beaverton and her car was in the shop. She said she was a trained masseuse, and was hoping to start her own business. I immediately told her how much I enjoy a good massage and that a couple of times a year just wasn't enough. "Where are you planning to open your business?" I inquired.
"At first, out of my new apartment -- if I can get away with it. Then I plan to start going to businesses in the office parks around here with my "shoulder / back massage chair." I think there is a market for a good 15 minute massage for $10 - $15. What do you think?"
"I've seen those chairs. Where you sit and lean forward while you get your neck and shoulders massaged. Is that what you have in mind?"
"Yes. I have a friend who does it in Portland, and she has developed a pretty loyal following. I'm hoping I can do the same here."
"Well," I smiled broadly, "You can count on me to be your first customer! And I'll bet you will be able to develop a regular clientele. Assuming you are good at it."
"I'm not good", she smiled back. "I'm great! Once I find an apartment, I'll have you over to prove it."
By this time we had arrived at one of the large complexes behind Albertson's and walked to the office. It felt quite natural walking and talking with her, and I went in without thinking. She told the manager her name was Margo, and that she had called earlier about a one bedroom apartment.
"I'm late for a meeting," the manager said. "Since you called, I'll give you the key to the available one-bedroom so you can take a look."
Margo thanked her, took the key and a map of the complex, and I followed her out and down the road toward the park. (The complex was right behind Albertson's and next to a long, narrow city park.) We found the unit and went in. The front door opened into the living room. Straight ahead was a large picture window with a view out toward the park. Immediately on the right was the kitchen, with a pass through to the dining area. In the far right corner was a door to the bedroom and master bath.
"Not bad," said Margo. "But it seems a bit exposed with that park right there."
"Well, there's a complex across the street that has a lot of trees around it. Maybe they have a place that is a little more secluded."
"Let's check it out," she replied. We went back to the office and turned in the key.
We walked across the street to the other complex, built on a bit of a hill. Some sections of it had the feeling of being in a forest. The manager allowed as how she had a one bedroom / loft available, and lead us to the back of the property to Apartment F-16.
The front door opened on to a short entry hall. Straight ahead was the living room with a fireplace on the left and a large sliding glass door and a large plate glass window over that, looking out on an enclosed patio. Behind the entry wall on the right was a half bath, and next to that the kitchen. A pass through from the kitchen would allow for a pair of bar stools to be used for eating there, or taking food to a dining table. On the far right wall was a staircase going to the loft, which had a master bath, walk-in closet, and room enough for a king size bed. The loft floor extended out over the living / dining area, though not to the far wall. There were about 10 feet between the wall and the loft railing, enough to give the living room the feel of a two story ceiling. From the ground floor, one looked at the patio fence and up into the trees, getting the feeling of being in a cabin in the woods. From the loft, the view was equally grand, looking over the patio fence and into the woods.
Margo had a big smile on her face and turned to the manager. "Boy, I sure like this. What's the rent?"
"This unit goes for $550 per month. It doesn't have a covered parking space and is the smallest unit we have."
"I'll take it."
We all walked back to the office where the manager got Margo's signature on a month-to-month lease, and gave her the information on utilities. She then collected a deposit check and Margo said she'd move in the coming weekend. She and I walked out and headed back toward the bus stop and my office.
"Thank you for going with me," she said. "I think the manager thought me more 'stable' or 'conservative' with you there."
"Yeah, probably because of my silver hair." I gave her my card and told her to call me on my cell phone if she needed anything.
"I'll be in touch," she said with a wink. "Remember, you will be my first massage client."
"That's a deal," I replied. I shook her hand and turned off to my office, while she continued to the bus stop.
A couple of weeks passed before I heard from Margo. She called on a Friday morning just before noon. "Hi. This is Margo. Remember me, the masseuse you helped find an apartment?"
"Of course I remember you. How have you been? Did you get moved in?"
"All moved in, unpacked and ready for my first massage client. When can you come over?"
"How about now?" I said, feeling excited, with a tingling in my crotch.
"I'll be waiting for you. You do remember where I live don't you?"
"Absolutely. I'll be there in ten minutes."
I was anxious to see Margo, so drove over to the complex to save a few minutes. I parked near F-16. As I neared the front door, Margo opened it, beckoning to me. She closed the front door behind me. I removed my jacket, which she hung on a hook by the door. She was wearing what looked to be a full length nightgown. The V-neck showed her deep cleavage, and her ample breasts pushed out wonderfully. I guessed she was a 38 D to 40 D. Her red hair, worn up in an old-fashioned way on her head the last time I saw her was now hanging free, and reached almost to her waist. Her skin was milky white, leading me to believe she was a natural red head. Plus, she had a few freckles.
She took my hand and led me into the living room. She had a sofa and easy chair around the fireplace, and a dining table with four chairs in the dining area next to the stairs. The table had a vase with fresh cut flowers in it. She continued to lead me by the hand, climbing the stairs to the loft where she had a queen bed, a dresser, and a portable massage table set up. She hadn't said a word up to this point, finally breaking her silence with, "What do you think?"
"The place looks wonderful. You have just the right amount of furniture to make it look homey."
"I think so, too," she replied. "I still have a picture or two to hang on the walls, but essentially I feel very comfortable here. Thank you for helping me find this place."
"It was my pleasure," I replied. "I see you even have room for your massage table."
"Absolutely. And I still want you to be my first 'guest'. Do you have time now?"
"For a massage from you, Margo, I'll make time."
"Then why don't you get undressed? You can use the bathroom. When you come out, just get on the table face-down under the sheet. I'll be back up in a minute."
It didn't take me long to undress and get on the table under the sheet. The table had a padded "donut" on one end for my face. It was comfortable, and I could open my eyes and see the floor. In a minute I heard her padding up the stairs in her bare feet. She approached the table and lightly caressed me through the sheet, starting at my ankles and working up to my head. "Are you comfortable?" she inquired. "Is it warm enough for you?"
"I'm just fine." I said through the donut hole.
She pulled the sheet down from my back and started a slow massage. Her hands were warm, her touch firm but gentle, and she used massage oil which had a light scent. She found a couple of knots in my shoulders which she skillfully worked on until the muscles were relaxed. Once she finished with my back, she worked on each arm and hand in turn. Next she covered my back with the sheet, and uncovered first my left, then my right leg. As she massaged my thighs her hand grazed my member, making it tingle and start to become tumescent. She massaged my calves and feet. As her thumbs moved over the soles of my feet, I could feel sensations in various parts of my body. "Have you studied Reflexology?" I asked through the donut hole.
"As a matter of fact, I have," she replied softly. "I'm not hurting you am I?"
"On the contrary. It all feels wonderful. You're very good."
.... There is more of this story ...