The First Massage Of A Ginger Girl

I laid each outfit out on the floor and showed her the dressing screen, the dressing table with a lit mirror on it and told her the room was hers to do with what she wanted. She could lock it from the inside if she felt the need. She moved stuff around for a few minutes, unpacking stuff onto the dresser before surveying the scene and turning back to me. I suggested before she spoke.’what do you want to start with?’ ‘Can I start with what I’m wearing, just to get my head on, just a few pics… just to get warmed up’ ‘Of course you can, do you want to sit in the dining room? The garden? Wherever.’ ‘I’ll sit in the dining room to start with’ She decided. I followed her through into the dining room and she sat at the table looking out into the garden. I took up a position beside her so I could catch her in profile. The light falling on her from outside made her already clear skin positively radiant. I shot a couple under flash, then a couple without, and finally added a soft gradient. "Apologies for being so late, the wife was talking my ear off, shall we take this inside?" he said in his smooth voice that screamed scotch on the rocks and blue collared love. He pushed his hand out to hold the door open for me, and without a word, I walked in. As we entered the bar the whole atmosphere reminded me of a jazz bar. Lights on dim, music playing from the jukebox and a few men scattered around. As I sat down Mr. Carlson moved towards the bar coming back in a few moments with two scotches on the rocks. Called it, I thought to myself as I let out a little smirk. Mr. Carlson placed my drink down in front of me then sat down opposite of me and took a long sip. He placed the glass back down licked his lips and stared at me with those steel eyes. “What’s so amusing?” he said letting out a smile himself. God I could bury myself in that voice. "Nothing just laughing at the oddity of this whole situation,” I replied. Grabbing my glass I immediately shot it down hoping the alcohol.
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