The number of men she puts her hands on is likely atrocious. All of them find her attractive, no doubt. Anyone with eyes would. How many get hard over her touch? How many moan? How many go home and jerk off thinking about her touching them? I’m filled with a sudden and irrational rage and a bout of jealousy that defies all logic.
I don’t know this young woman. I don’t have feelings for her. She’s my son’s ex-girlfriend. She has a weapon against me—information she could use against me. There is no reason to be jealous; she doesn’t belong to me.
“Is this okay?” she asks softly, her voice dripping with sex.
Is she enjoying this as much as I am?
I may be fifty-two, but no one believes me when they learn that. Forty-five at the most is what I’m told. They’re probably just blowing smoke up in my ass. But I am in shape, as I work out regularly. I’m taller than average, and have suits custom made, not only because I prefer it but because off-the-rack options don’t fit right where it matters. My hair is just starting to get some salt to the pepper, but I hear women like that. So yeah, if she’s into older men, maybe she is enjoying this.
I’m not sure why I like knowing that.
She spends a lot of time on my neck and shoulders but eventually covers my back with the sheet and moves to my legs. I can’t recall the last time I got a massage, but they certainly didn’t massage my glutes, which is why my body goes stiff when she does.
“Is this okay?” she asks, pausing her movements.
“God, yes.”
She continues and another moan leaves my lips. This time, I’m not even embarrassed by it.
I’m surprised at how goddamn good this feels. Who knew my ass cheeks were so tense?
My dick is harder than ever, and time is dwindling to when I’ll be told to turn over. Perhaps I should have left my briefs on for that reason alone, but I wasn’t thinking. Not that it would have done a hell of a lot with only this thin sheet, but maybe it would have.
When she tells me it’s time to roll over and holds up the sheet for me to do so, I count my blessings and hope she doesn’t run for the hills and claim sexual assault at my erection pointing in her direction.
Chapter Five
Seraphine
I know the deal when it comes to massaging men. A lot of them get erections. Not because they want to, and not because this is sexual for them, but because their body is relaxed.
Contrary to popular belief, men need to be in a good head space to get erections, and it just so happens massages are a common time for that to happen. We were taught all about this in school, as it’s a common occurrence. Normally, I ignore them. It’s become so normal that it’s easy to look the other way. But my God, I have never seen a dick so large before. Though it’s hidden beneath the sheet, I can make it out perfectly.
When he turned over, one side of the blanket got stuck under him, so it’s pulling taught, showcasing the outline of his thick shaft and crown. I’ve never wanted to see what a dick looks like before, but something about this situation makes me want to see his. The urge to brush my fingers over it and watch it twitch is unbearable. What would happen if I didthat? Would he freak out? Allow me to? He must know how hard he is; I’m sure he can feel it. Would he let me help him with it?
Why am I even thinking about this? This is my job, and I need to be professional. This is so far from professional.
Maybe it’s because he’s attractive, and most men I massage aren’t attractive. Maybe it’s because he’s a billionaire, andthat’swhy I find him attractive. Or maybe it’s because he’s my ex-boyfriend’s father and I’m that messed up in the head.
That revenge on Harrison is looking mighty good right about now. Though, I’m pretty sure my vagina has no sense of revenge and just wants this man’s dick.
Horrible. I’m horrible!
I’m here to work, and thinking about this man’s large erection isn’t part of my job. He’s probably married. How could a guy like this be single? There’s no way. I never heard Harrison mention a mother or stepmother, but he has astepsister, so there has to be one, right?
Elliot Caldwell isn’t wearing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. A lot of people don’t wear rings these days, especially people in positions of power. But he’s more than twice my age, if I remember correctly. Harrison made a comment about his father’s fiftieth birthday party being just before our first date. And yeah, that’s another reason I shouldn’t be thinking about this man’s genitals. He’s my ex-boyfriend’s father!
Also, aside from all of that, I am not what this man wants. People like him don’t date people like me. People who have dead-end jobs and are living at home with their spiteful father.I am so not this man’s type, but it does feel good to imagine I could be. To think this erection is for me,becauseof me. That he’s turned on by what I’m doing to him, the way I’m touching him. Is it so wrong to wish that for just a moment, I could be wanted so much that nothing else matters? That his wife wouldn’t matter, that his status wouldn’t matter…
Look at me, being so pathetic. I’m no better than Angela right now. How can I be dreaming of this man cheating on his wife with me, when I just found out I was theother woman?
I’m a terrible human, but my god, I may have to hide in his bathroom to take care of myself because I amaching.
Knowing this man of power, this billionaire CEO, is enjoyingmytouch is indescribable. The sounds he made when I was working on his neck and shoulders were erotic. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to be touched so badly. It’s horrifying that my body is betraying me, my gaze constantly going to his dick. Even as I work on his arms, squeezing and pressing on his muscles, my eyes keep trailing right back between his legs.
It’s just a natural reaction, Sera. It has nothing to do with you.
I just wish it did…
