Chapter 3: The Scandinavian Room

It was a Friday, like most others. He kissed his sleeping wife's cheek as he headed out the door to work. He drove the same route to the office, parking in nearly the same spot. Thoughts of Bob Seger's song, "I Feel like a Number," echoed through his brain as he sat down at his desk and turned on the computer.

The routine ness of the day was forever banished when he opened his briefcase and found a large pink envelope inside. It was a card from Stephanie. And inside he found a handwritten note.

"I will be awaiting my masseur at the Baden Spa. Ask Melanie at the desk for the Scandinavian room. They are expecting my private masseur at six tonight (Friday!).S"

He quickly checked his calendar, nothing after three. All I have to do is hold out until then, he thought.

Darren was distracted all through his first meeting. Luckily it was with I.T. Support and he really didn't need to be there. His mind drifted back to that weekend in Tahoe. It was all he had hoped for and more. The sex was great, but just spending time with Stephanie was the bonus. She was such a special woman. And that boob flash on the ski slopes really floored him. Stephanie never did things like that. She hadn't said much, other than the huge thank you before they got back on the plane to come home. And he noticed that she wore the thong panties a couple of days this week. Maybe old dogs can learn new tricks. It certainly made her tight jeans look good.

Darren's mind immediately flashed back to the scene in the kitchen last night when Stephanie bent over to grab the dishwashing liquid in her jeans. If only the kids had been in bed, Darren sighed. I got her to open her mind to a few things. I wonder what she wants out of the date tonight.

The day dragged on, three meetings with clients, two with I.T. support and one with the boss and all took their toll. By the time four-fifty rolled around he was ready to go. He packed up his briefcase and headed home.

He fumbled through his drawers. He wondered what a masseur would wear. Finally he settled on a clean pair of khaki pants and a snug-fitting polo shirt. He stopped and bought a couple of bottles of scented massage oil at a bath and body store on the way. He pulled into the parking lot of the Baden Spa just before six.

"Can I help you?" the buxom blonde behind the counter asked breathlessly.

"Which way is the Scandinavian Room?"

"Oh, you must be Darren. Mrs. Davis is waiting for you in the sauna, fifth door on the left. It has a big S on it."

"Thanks, Melanie," he said, reading the name tag on her swelling breast.

He opened the door with the S on it and stepped inside. A massage table was set up near the right hand side of the room. Darren set his stuff down on the shelf beside the table and looked around the room. Two rooms were built off to the left. One door revealed a bathroom; the other was obviously the sauna. He noted the steam creeping out under the door. Along the far wall was a fairly large Jacuzzi.

He checked his watch and knocked and then opened the sauna door. "Mrs. Davis?"

"Ah, Darren, you're here. Could you be a doll and grab a towel for me?"

"Of course," he replied, slipping easily in to his assigned role.

He held the towel open as he watched the shadow move closer to him in the steam. She turned her back to him, revealing her graceful figure and held her arms out to her side. He held the towel out for her and handed her the ends. She wrapped the towel around herself and then preceded him out to the massage table. She had a towel wrapped around her hair and he watched longingly as he walked behind her.

He helped her up onto the table and she rolled over onto her stomach, loosening the towel and letting the ends drape over the edge of the table.

"Peach or cherry?" he asked, holding the bottles out for her to inspect.

"Oh, let's try the peach today, Darren," she sighed and closed her eyes, raising her hands over her head.

"Very good, madam," he nodded.

Darren broke the seal and then set the oil down again. He stepped over to the table and folded the towel back until it just barely covered her buttocks. Satisfied, he picked up the oil and poured a generous amount into his hands. He rubbed them together to warm the oil a bit and then grasped her left hand between his.

She groaned as he began kneading the palm of her hand. His fingers slid warmly over her flesh, rubbing and kneading. Seeking out any ache and driving it from her thoughts, trailing pleasure behind the knowing fingers. He massaged the hand and then the forearm and finally the upper arm and shoulder. Then he stepped back and put some more oil on his hands. It had been a long time since he'd given Stephanie a massage. He'd forgotten how wonderful it felt.

"This is heaven," she sighed as he started on the other hand. Soft jazz music wafted through the air as he methodically kneaded and massaged her body. When he finished with the arms, he worked on the feet and legs, first one and then the other.

As he was finishing up the left leg, he let his fingers drift under the towel to caress the cleft of her buttocks.

"Darren," she hissed, reaching back to move his hand. Darren smiled to himself.

He smiled and moved his hands to her back. Her breathing was beginning to deepen as he rubbed along her spine. Up and down her back he massaged. Each time his hands drifted a little closer to the towel cover her butt. He gripped her shoulders and kneaded the muscles there and then his hands rubbed their way back down her back, this time touching the towel and moving it an inch lower. She gave no sign that she noticed and he returned his hands to her shoulders and neck. Her skin felt so warm, soft and smooth under his fingers. He could feel his pants tighten. He'd forgotten how much massaging her turned him on.