Part 2: Saturday in Bed with Strawberries and Champagne

I called the desk and found my companions had gone out but would be returning. I ordered lunch in my room and had a long soak in the bath. A little later there was a knock on the door and a new waiter pushed a trolley in. Although wrapped in one of the hotels gigantic dressing gowns, he wouldn’t look in my direction and practicallly bolted as soon as I scribbled the room number on his book.

That afternoon, the guys still didn’t return but I had a phone call to say they were playing golf. They had bumped into a golfing buddy who had booked into one of the really top-notch golf courses and as his golfing partner had been called away, he had invited them to join him that afternoon. As it was a late slot, they were staying for dinner and would not be returning the hotel late the folllowing evening

They were most apologetic but said the room was mine until Sunday lunchtime and I could book meals for the room or go to the restaurant in the meantime. I was strangely unperturbed by the situation and called the desk to verify that I was not going to be landed with a huge bill. The man who replied was immensely helpful and confirmed that the room was booked on a corporate account and I was permitted any meals and refreshments I wished together with all the facilities the hotel had to offer. As I was talking, I saw a brochure next to the phone for massage sessions at the hotel’s fitness centre or in your own room. I was asked if I particularly wanted a masseuse and I said that wasnt necessary. I also ordered a strawberries and a bottle of champagne although I selected a lower price bottle.

The masseur arrived first,

He offered oil or powder and I chose oil and he spread a large sheet over the bed. I had a hotel gown on and nothing else so I took a towel from the bathroom. I dropped the robe l at the sifde of the bed and lay face down, modestly draping the towel over my bottom.

He was a genuine masseur and rubbed and kneaded my muscles in a most delightful way. We chatted as he worked on me and my champagne and strawberries arrived. I told him to call the waiter in and to pour a glass of champagne for me. I signed his book (wrote the room number) and as I was raised on my elbows, asked him to hold the glass while I took a drink and then to feed me with a few strawberries which he dipped in cream, I thanked him and he said he would “colllect the trolley later, madame!” I flopped back down onto my front and the masseur continued his work.

He manipulated each finger and toe, worked over my arms and legs and made me yelp when he worked on my neck which was apparently “quite knotted up.” He asked if I would like him to attend to the gluteus maximus and gluteus medius and although the one term was familiar, it didin’t register for a moment. “The buttocks, Madame!” he said.

I laughed and said “The works, please!”

He raised the towel to my waist and his hands kneaded and pummeled some more before he asked me to turn over.

He held the towel as I turned and placed it decorously over my hips when I lay back. I paused him for a moment and sat up to have a strawberry and a sip of champagne,

he started on my face and neck then down to my chest and the front of my arms. Then down to my belly.

He then switched to my feet and began working up each leg to my hips He then gripped my ankle and began pushing it firmly but gently against the joints. Still holding my ankle he raised my leg up then clamed one arm on the top of my thigh with the hand on my knee and rotated the leg and pressed it against the direction of the knee. He then repeated the process with the other leg.

Finally he began on the quadriceps (whatever they are) He worked from knee to hip, the towel had fallen to one side and his hands on my inner thighs was having a devastating effect as he brushed my most intimate part.

He made no attempt to take it further although I would have been happy to but I guessed he had good reason as he must have been aware that I would have been receptive.

I stood to let him remove the sheet and said I would lie down for a while. I pulled a bedsheet from the pack he had brought with him and spread it on the bed explaining that he usually used it on the mobile massage trolley.which was being used elsewhere, I signed his book and he left.