The idea of a massage was becoming more appealing. I quickly dressed (the evaporation on wet skin in cool air at very low humidity is quite chilling),...went to the office, and made an appointment for early evening. It had been a long time since I had a massage, so I was a little apprehensive about what to expect. At the appointed time I went back to the office to meet the masseuse. As it turns out, it was the same guy that checked me in. I paid, and followed him around to a separate room. I was. " I managed to say despite feeling tiny and awkward. "I'm just across the street." I said, jerking a thumb at the apartment complex behind us.He smiled, then got so close to me his rock hard abs and growing steel pipe ground against my own stomach and crotch. I held my ground, quivereing uncontrollably and silently gushing at the thought of being pushed up on by a huge black thug, it was the stuff of my fantasies."Yeah, les' go." He said, grabbing me by the waist and turning me forcefully--. .. Stella... it’s not like that...” I said, sitting down next (but not too close) to her. “It’s just that those photos... they were so...” she looked at me expectantly, “...unexpected.” She head to understand, I told her, that this kind of thing didn’t happen to me. People didn’t just walk up to me and hand me pictures of their most intimate moments to study at my leisure; that only happened to people in porn magazine stories and most of those were bullshit. “They just kind of took me by. .!” She turned to look at me and then stopped with her mouth open.The box started to fall — her hands seemingly forgotting to balance it on the edge of the shelf.“Mom!”She looked upward and saw the box start to tip toward her and I jumped forward as she fell back off the stool. The contents of the box fell out of it as it fell — so that knitting materials from one of mother’s craft-kicks a decade before rained down upon the both of us.Mother’s whole weight was in my arms and she looked at me.
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