One Ring:Suncoast SocietyBy: Tymber Dalton
“Marcia, darling. Quit ruining my reputation. I will have zero street cred with the international sadists union if you keep that up.”
“There’s a sadists union ?” Mel asked.
That made everyone laugh, including the woman on the table, who was desperately trying not to laugh. Crawford reached over to place his hand on top of one precariously jiggling jar toward her far side.
“No,” Marcia finally managed through her giggling. “That was a joke.”
“Oh.” Her face heated again. “Sorry.”
“Marcia, she is absolutely adorable,” Crawford said. “May I keep her?”
“No, you may not keep her,” Marcia joked. “She’s mine.”
“You never let me have any fun.” He broke the seal on the precariously positioned cup and removed it, rubbing at the circular mark left behind with his other hand. “Mel, sometimes the cups leave bruises behind, like you were attacked and tentacle-raped. Will that be a problem?”
“Oh, no. It won’t.” Not like Mike would see them.
“The easiest excuse is the truth,” Marcia told her. “‘I saw an acupuncturist, and he did fire cupping on me.’ Anyone Googles it, they’ll see it’s a legitimate thing. It was vanilla long before it was kinky.”
Twenty minutes later, it was her turn. She turned toward the wall and Marcia held a towel up to shield her. Then she started working on her bra.
“You can keep that on, if you want,” Marcia said.
“No, it’s no worse than changing in a gym, I suppose.” She took the towel and wrapped it around her before lying on the other, fresh towel Marcia had laid on the table after it’d been vacated and wiped down.
She felt the guy sweep her hair to the side and off her neck. “You’re not allergic to any kinds of oils, or baby oil, are you?”
“I’m only allergic to bullshit,” she said.
Crawford actually laughed. “Marcia, seriously, you have to let me have her.”
“She’s only a loaner, buddy.” Marcia leaned in. “Don’t worry. He’s just a flirt and a tease. He’s completely professional.”
“Quit telling damn dirty lies about me, woman. You’ll ruin my reputation.”
Mel involuntarily flinched when she felt the warmed oil hit her back. Then he started spreading it out with his hands, talking to her, asking her health-related questions, probing her shoulders and along her spine with his fingers before he did anything.
Finally, “Okay, I’m going to place the first cup. If it hurts, do not hesitate to say red, understand?”
She heard the flick of the barbecue lighter he was using, followed by the soft whomp of the alcohol igniting.
There was a flare of heat where the cup hit her skin, followed by a pulling sensation that wasn’t uncomfortable. He lightly tugged on it, then paused.
“How are you?”
“Excellent. Let me place a few more.” He did, one of them not taking the first time and needing a redo. Then he slid them around on her oiled skin into new positions, and she felt herself relaxing, moaning at how good it felt as the tightness in her shoulders began to ease.
She hadn’t realized how damned tense her body had been.
He added a couple of more, and now she felt her entire body relaxing, nearly melting into the massage table.
This was kinky?
Sign me up!
Hell, she didn’t even feel self-conscious anymore. She realized people were more interested in what Crawford was doing than who he was doing it to. She could have been lying there totally naked and it wasn’t like anyone would care.
So why should she?
By the time he finished with her thirty minutes later, she was unaware there’d been a crowd gathered around to watch, and had tuned out most of his talk as he explained to everyone what he was doing. Marcia had pulled a chair over to sit at her head and talk to her.
But frankly, she wasn’t giving much more than monosyllabic mumbles in response.
This just felt too. Damn. Good.
All she wanted now was to go to sleep.
He removed all the cups, rubbed her skin down, then handed Marcia a tub of wipes to help Mel clean off the excess oil as he started cleaning his cups in preparation for the next person.
When Mel sat up on the table, she didn’t even think about grabbing the other towel to cover herself at first.
Marcia smiled. “Someone looks happy.”
“Holy crap, that was great.” She looked up at Crawford. “Thank you. Can I have one of your business cards?”
“Of course.” He pulled one out of his case and handed it to her. “My sister is my receptionist, and she’s in the lifestyle, too. Feel free to tell her I worked on you here. Obviously, it goes without saying that if you tell others about me, please don’t mention where we met.” He smiled.
“Of course.” He was located in Sarasota. “I’ll be making an appointment with you.”
“See?” he told Marcia. “That’s how I get the monkey on their back. I give them the first one free.”
Mel giggled. “You’re a sneaky sadist.” She hopped off the table and took her clothes from Marcia. “Thank you,” she said to Crawford. “I really appreciate you doing this.”