She pressed her hand against her labia, rocking it back and forth, feeling pleased that they were swelling and growing sensitive. She tried to imagine...what it would be like having a man touching her. No man ever had, not there. A little groping at the breasts, at a dance or something, but never there, her most private place.Then Gwenneth did something she had been doing, on and off, since she was about thirteen. With one scarf, she tied her left ankle to the left bedpost, and, stretching to do. I also bought aroma oil and a blanket and two towel on the way.She opened the door casually and invited me in with some weird smile. She asked for the duration of the massage and I said I can continue till your son comes back. So she said lets get started immediately and took me to her bedroom and asked me for the dress she has to wear. I said, remove your dress, wrap yourself with a towel.She went to bathroom to change the dress meanwhile I changed to shorts and t-shirt and prepared the bed. This was even more excitingbecause somehow putting my hand inside a size 12 was more stimulating thatjust sticking it inside my size 10's. After a few days Bob noticed thatthe boots under his bed were beginning to look shiny and told me to keep upthe good work. Work? Shit it was pure pleasure to wax and lick those bootsinto shape. One afternoon I rushed back to the room as usual. Bob usually had aclass at that time so I had some privacy to do my boot polishing, bootlicking, boot rubbing and. It’s not a good look. I’m a Vice President here for god’s sake.“Uh yeah, sure. Where do you want go?”“I thought I saw a bottle in your office? Or are you saving that for a special pitch?”There’s that smirk again. I can’t help but smile back.“Well I was waiting for a contract from Dior, but I guess we can drink it now instead.”“Dior does everything in house. And usually in French,” she sasses back.I’m not sure why but this whole exchange makes my mouth dry. I stand up and follow her unbelievably.