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There were two tables set up similar to the other day when Cal and I got our first massage together after our day of scuba diving. One was under the light and the other set in the shadows. They were angled differently than before; the head of one table was beside the foot of the one I was to use. Pierre said,” If Cal wants to watch, he should be comfortable.” Pointing to the table in the shadows, Pierre continued, “He can sit or lay on this table where his unobstructed view will be just a foot or two from you.” It all sounded logical to me and I said, “I’m ready!” I don’t know why I said that; I wasn’t really ready. I knew I wanted to lie down; my head was spinning. I slowly began fumbling with the buttons on my blouse. Facing Cal and Jess who were both sitting on the other table, I opened my top completely displaying my still firm breasts to them. My light brown nipples were pointing at them. Whether they could see them or not in this dim light, I didn’t really care at the moment. I. “How long, do you think?” I asked, trying to sound as nice as possible. “Oh gosh, it's hard to say. I wouldn't even ask except that you said you were flexible... I mean, I can pay you more if you want.” He cleared his throat. “Probably another month.” He was already giving me fifty dollars a day, and I could hardly afford to say no to that. I chewed my cheek for a second.“Yeah, sure, that should be fine.” He thanked me profusely, said I was a lifesaver and so on.I had been on my lunch break and skulked back to my cubicle and dropped my head to my desk. Now instead of one week, one week, one week I started chanting one month, one month, one month. This dribbled into my self-loathing mantra of dog fucker, dog fucker, dog fucker.“Jillian.” I bolted up and saw my boss staring at me. He didn't have much by way of understanding. Or feelings for that matter. “You haven't caught an eating disorder, have you?” I shook my head. He coughed. “Well the secretaries keep telling me that you're not.
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