Fake Marriage Box Set

“I'll just go strip down, then,” Christian said, nodding toward the other room. “Come in when you're ready.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, wondering how he had me this riled up already. I wasn't even sure if I was upset with him or lusting after him. It was a very strange, chaotic mix of feelings inside of me.

I entered the massage room, glad to find that he had laid down on his stomach first. It didn't mean that he wasn't going to roll over later in the massage and give me a full view of his manhood. But for now, maybe I could concentrate and get into the rhythm of the thing, remember that he was just another client.

“So, you're here in Hawaii on vacation, then?” I asked quietly, beginning to work my way up his body, feeling for the points that would need special attention. I paused when I reached his lower back, and it cracked in four places before I'd even really started adding pressure. “God, you're tight.”

“Aren't I supposed to be saying that?” he asked. But his voice sounded fuzzy and a bit blissed-out already. “Yeah, I'm just here on vacation. I live in New York. The city, not the state.”

“Oh. Nice. What do you do there?”

He let out a tight sigh. I wondered if maybe he was one of those people who didn't like to talk while having a massage. But then, he gave a little shrug of his shoulders. “I'm in real estate.”

“I didn't realize you were that old,” I said teasingly.

Christian laughed. “I'm 36. You?”

“29.”

“And you grew up here in Hawaii, or did you just move here?”

“Grew up here,” I told him. “Lived here my whole life, and will probably live here for the rest of my life. There's nowhere quite like this.”

“How so?”

“You probably wouldn't appreciate it much, coming from the Big City, but it'

s peaceful here. Life happens at a different pace on the island. You know, things happen when they happen, and no one gets too stressed when things happen late. Plus, I get to do everything that I love here. I have my own business, and I get to surf and swim and run and do whatever else I want to do in my spare time. Somehow, I live the best life imaginable.”

“That must be a nice feeling to have,” Christian said, sounding a bit envious.

I frowned at him. “If you don't feel like you're living the best life that you could be, maybe you need to make some changes,” I told him. “I know, I know, that's easier said than done. But there's no reason that you need to trap yourself in a life that you don't enjoy living.”

“I enjoy it,” Christian said, sounding a bit defensive. “I don't always enjoy every aspect of it, but overall, it's great. So, you're a surfer chick?” he asked, changing the subject.

I laughed. “Yeah, my parents like to joke that I was born in the water. I love it out there.”

“I've never been,” he said. “Maybe I'll try learning it while I'm down here.”

“You should,” I told him. “Catching that wave and letting it carry you is an amazing feeling.”

“So is this,” Christian said, groaning a little as I hit a particularly large knot in his shoulders.

“Mmm,” I said. “You must be stressed a lot. And you're not taking good care of yourself. You're wound up.”

“Yeah,” Christian sighed. “You're not the first person to point that out to me.” We were both silent for a moment. “So, tell me more about Oahu,” Christian finally said. “I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here for, but what are the things that I can't miss doing or seeing?”

Conversation flowed easily between us after that, and I slowly began to see past the initial impression that I'd had of him. Maybe he wasn't such a jerk after all. Maybe that was some sort of act that he was accustomed to putting on.

I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to sleep with him, though. When he turned over, his cock was half-hard from my ministrations, curving up toward his chiseled abs. I realized that despite what I'd said about not giving happy-ending massages, I did want to get a hand on him and just feel his weight. I wasn't going to do that, of course; he'd have to take me out on a couple of dates first if he wanted me to touch him. But all the same, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to sleep with him.

“What's wrong?” Christian asked, lazily opening one eye to look up at me, and I realized that I had stopped what I was doing.

I blushed and went back to work massaging his massive thigh muscles. “Nothing!”

The man smirked a little, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking, and unfortunately, I had the feeling that he did. But he didn't comment on it. Instead, he went back to the story he'd been telling me about some ski trip that he'd taken the previous winter.

Finally, our two hours were up, and I reluctantly withdrew my hands from his body. “That's it; you're all set,” I told him gently. We hadn't spoken for the past little bit, and although I'd missed parts of our conversation, it had at least helped me concentrate a little better on what I was doing, and for that, I was grateful.