The masseur had an accent that she couldn't place. Perhaps it was French but she wasn't sure, at least European. He came in carrying a table and a large gym bag and promptly set up the table.

"You are too modest madam," he said, holding up two small towels.

Marilyn wasn't sure if she was to get undressed right there or go into the bathroom. When he turned around to get oil out of his bag, she quickly slipped off her top and shorts.

"Should I be on my front or back?" she asked, while trying to cover herself with the small towels.

"Whichever you prefer; where are you feeling the most discomfort?"

"My legs, thighs, and hips."

"Then lay on your stomach."

She got on the table and put her face in the cutout on the table and tried to cover her bottom with the towel, but it was too small. The masseur arraigned the towel so it covered most of it and then he started on her lower back. He massaged her tired, sore muscles. His strong and firm fingers expertly worked on her lower back and then down the sides to her upper thighs.

"You have several knots here, madam," he said, working the thighs.

Marilyn was melting into the table, fighting the urge to moan, trying to keep her breathing normal. His ministrations made her muscles relax, healing the soreness. He put some more oil on his hands and started on the thighs again, but in a few moments was massaging her sensitive inner thighs and Marilyn, despite her best efforts, let out a loud moan. Seamlessly the massage changed from physical to sensual as he took off the towel and massaged her asscheeks.

"Yes, very nice," he said, and then ran his fingers between them.

Marilyn was breathing hard and moaning, and didn't care. She was sure the code was for a regular massage and not the sexual one, but she didn't care about that either. He spread her asscheeks with his thumbs and then massaged each one. He poured oil on the very top, and she felt it flow down and between her asscheeks, and it was wonderful. He started at the top of her body with her neck and shoulders then proceeded to massage everything, even the balls of her feet. Marilyn was in a state of total euphoria when she heard him say, "Do you have a preference, madam?"

She lifted up her head, and he was holding a case with four dildos inside. One was very small with a silver metal tip; one was large and pink and looked like it was made of rubber; one was blue and curved at the tip; and one was crystal with ridges. She touched the crystal one and jumped when the tip touched her.

"Are you a virgin, madam?"

"No," Marilyn replied quickly. She moved her legs until her knees were over the side of the table. She got up and rested on her forearms.

"Now do me."

She was confused. After the first orgasm, she wondered if she could ever go back to being the person who was a workaholic without a sex life. Right now, she craved it, needed it.

He worked it in slowly but firmly and then out again and kept up a nice steady rhythm while also massaging her asscheeks.

"Yes, do me there too."

"What would you like, madam?"

"Do me there too. Use the small one."

"What would you like?"

"I want you to do my ass."

"Yes, madam."

He slid it into her, and she loved it, loved the feeling of both dildos inside her at the same time, and loved being in that zone of control.

"That's it, ram it into me, do me, damn it, ram it into me."

Speaking the words was exciting, just like the physical pleasure.

She started giving him specific orders, just where and how fast to do it until she reached that beautiful state. Even though he insisted that it was included, she gave him a fifty dollar tip.