‘I just said that it was time for the boudoir.’ Then as she turned he saw her reflection in the mirror, as she demurely looked up from under half closed eyes and began to unbutton her blouse. Her special room was made to order for romance, the candles, all scented, casting a gentle glow across the futon arranged with soft pillows and silken sheets and covers. So many times she had performed therapeutic massage on the table in the center of the room and now, tonight, this Massage therapist would bring into being a fantasy more often thought of than admitted to by many of her clients. As the room and the ambiance assaulted his senses he watched her. She had stopped just inside the door and allowed him to watch the blouse fall from her shoulders. His breath caught in his throat at her beauty, the smooth golden skin of her back drawing him to her, her softness and beauty, the warmth of the room in stark contrast to the cacophony of sound being created by mother nature just beyond the. Could I trust her not to find someone else to ‘entertain’ her while I was gone? And that was my answer, right now I couldn’t.I knocked on the front door and waited.Cal opened it, dressed in tight jeans and a school polo shirt. From the evidence she wasn’t wearing a bra.“Hi,” I said, “can I come in.”“Of course you can, why did you even knock? You’ve never had to wait to be let in to this house,” she replied, and stepped aside so I could walk in.“I just thought it was better,” I replied, “so where are we sitting?”“My room?” she said hopefully.I looked at her and shook my head.“How about the kitchen?” I asked, “then if we get thirsty we can get a drink.”“Ok,” she said sadly, and led the way through.She seated herself at one end of the long side of the table, so I sat down, next to her, but on the short side.“So do you want me to tell you about Munich?” she asked.“Yes,” I replied, “all of it. And not the edited version, the whole truth.”“Ok,” she said, “I promise I won’t cut out anything.
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