Thread: Scribe's Retreat

Co-writer dropped out of this one, so I'm looking for another writer. Angela called Isabella and Natalie her two cohorts in the Redhead Club. Well, okay, Isabella had brown hair, but henna would fix that sometime. Anyway, Angela wasn't too thrilled with life herself. William had called her to ask her if it was alright for him to start dating another woman. At first, Angela was a little upset. She then started realizing that her feelings were less of loss than rivalry. They had been friends, but that's all they were. They had many interests in common, but it seemed that her closest male friend did not arouse her. Wasn't she supposed to be so by him? She only wished... hmm, what was there to do that night? She received Natalie's call. She could feel the hurt and pain through the phone. She felt more for Natalie's loss than her own, if a loss she indeed had. Angela being Angela, it wasn't too hard to find several ice creams in her freezer, and bottles of liquor on her shelves. She knocked on Natalie's door. She wasn't sure what to expect, and wasn't sure of what role she would play tonight. She knew sympathy lead to intimacy, and intimacy lead to other things. She pushed the idea out of her head as Natalie opened the door. The Massage Co-writer dropped out of this one, so I'm looking for another writer. Four footsteps entered the room. Perhaps it was management's way of apologizing for the delay in service with an addtional masseuse? Beautiful sweet music followed, and the lights dimmed. Just out of eye's reach candles were lit, their small white flames silently flickering from virgin white staves. Upon the nearby table was placed a silver tray with glass bottles filled with what must have been oils. As a bottle was lifted, a vanilla scent just barely was discernable within the room. The massage begun. Her hair was lifted, and gentle fingers soothed the warm oil into the base of her neck. Slow symmetrical circles made their down their way to her shoulders. The careful hands became four, as each pair slowly, thoughtfully, made their way down her shoulders, lightly massaging the oil into her soft skin. Only briefly leaving her skin, the fingertips returned again, anointed anew, as they gently rubbed between the shoulderblades. Firm knuckles kneaded the vertebrae of her spine, a slight pain alternating with the pleasure of tension released. Hands spread with palms then, still symetrically, rubbed the sides of her abdomen, the scented oil permeating her body. As the hands treated her body, the sheet was slowly pulled down, revealing her pale yet beautiful skin. The hands slowly made their way up her body, to reach her arms. Again, they massaged deeply, removing subtle knots and pains, brought on to her from days and nights of repetitive study. Delicate fingertips massaged her fingers, increasing the bloodflow with insistent, yet diminuitive, circles upon her palms. These circles were reflected in her feet, pressing and massaging the points of revitality of her body. The hands travelled up her calves and thighs, slowly but persistently, slowly pushing up the sheet, until only her bottom was covered. It had been over an hour since they entered and finally a voice spoke. It was soft and not unpleasant. Miss, I'm not sure if you were told, but your masseuse is not able to make it today. The voice was of a male. Myself and my companion are at liberty to provide you additional time, without cost, for the inconvenience. The gentleman held a towel. You may turn onto your back and I will place this towel on your chest. Or you may lie face down and we will remove the sheet. Would you like us to continue?