A
Algonquin100
Guest
The door closing behind you as the attendant informs you massage therapist would be in shortly. The spas suite overlooks the dry expansive desert...a large wall of windows giving site to the miles of endless sand. Soft music echoing off the high walks and ceiling, dim lighting setting a tranquil mood as the amber sun begins to set in the distance. It was always nice to escape reality for a few days for your husbands conferences. He is spending the next three hours learning about medical malpractice while you relaxed in the spa. Already having had a manicure and facial you are glowing from relaxation as you climb on the table after disrobing. Pulling a slender sheet over your arched bottom before a knock on the door. "all ready Mrs. Anderson?", the deep voice echoing through the door.....your thoughts race....*but I specifically asked for a woman...*, your reply is slow but you aren't one to rock the boat...."awwhhh yes I ughmmmm sure come on it". As the door opens you hear the soft steps, as I move behind you preparing the essential oils and towels. The silence is deafening as finally from the reflection in a mirror you catch a glimpse of my shaved head, the skin glimmering on my onyx fleet, vibrant and charcoal. You swallow hard...
