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Whimpers of Desire

Whimpers of Desire

  • A Penthouse Letter by C.F., Georgia

Ann and I met at work, and because we both lived alone and shared a distaste for solo dining, we started having occasional, quiet ladies’ nights together. Ann would usually come to my place directly from her daily workout — she had a religious dedication to regular, vigorous exercise — and as we became more familiar with each other, she occasionally asked me to give her rubdowns before dinner.

I used to give massages professionally, and it felt good to practice again. Besides, there was just something special about her; she was young, and fresh, but it was more… almost as if she had a special power to channel her strength and vitality. She did something for me — to me — that fed a desperate, starving need that I hadn’t even been aware of before.

I was thrilled to massage... Read more...

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