I glanced at Mansour once or twice, but he was simply watching intently, with a smile on his face. I moved around so I could reach her legs, this time starting at the knees and working slowly up. He was wearing a white silk shirt over white shorts, and showed me into the home. I had finished Asira’s back, massaging down to her buttocks, but going no lower, and I moved down to her feet. Asira emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in the towel and lay down on the massage table. I began with her neck and shoulders, oiling them lightly, and then moving to her fingertips, and starting to work up each arm. I took the towel, and rather than folding it up onto her stomach, I simply removed it from her, completely. “Who referred you to me, exactly?” I asked him. From time to time, we get a request for an outcall massage, and we try to accommodate (at additional cost, of course) when reasonable to do so. Her hips began to slightly undulate off the table, indicating urgency, but I was not going to rush
