Page 67 of Black Light: Cured

I wasn’t lying when I said my neck and shoulders felt tense. It must have been from me falling

asleep at my desk instead of my bed. Still, as her knuckles curl into me, I can’t help the groan of

satisfaction that spills out from my lips. This goes beyond anything sexual. This is physical relief,

pure and simple. I’m not stupid. I know it’s just a placebo effect. Come tomorrow, the sensation of

relief will be gone, forcing me to seek out her ‘miracle’ hands once more. But in the interim, I’m

going to enjoy the temporary relief she’s giving me.

All too soon, it’s over, and her soft whisper as she concludes the massage tugs at my heart. It was

too soon. There’s no way we’re over now, but a quick glance at the clock confirms it. When will I see

her again? Will it not be until Black Light? I’m not sure I can wait that long. Looking up, I smile, a

plan formulating in my mind.

“Would you care to have dinner with me tonight?” The way her face lights up at my request tells

me everything I need to know.

Nodding, she pulls away and steps out of the room so I can get dressed. During the massage, my

cock finally learned to stand down, so putting on my boxers isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as it could

have been. And just in time too. I still need to get ready for surgery today and dinner after.

Once I’m dressed, I open the door to see her waiting there, her cheeks pink as she beams up at me.

Reaching out, she hands me a cup of water, and I can’t resist leaning forward and running my tongue

along the rim, just to see her squirm. Chuckling as she looks down, I pull out my phone and hand it to

her.

“Put your number in my contacts. I’ll message you after I get out of surgery. Any food you don’t

like?”

“If it’s edible, I’ll eat it,” she teases, glancing down at my crotch.

“Minx,” I joke back, leaning down to give her a soft, chaste peck on the lips. “Be ready by seven.

Text me your address so I can pick you up. You do have something fancy to wear… yes?”

Lila rolls her eyes at me and starts to push me out of the doorway. “Yes, I can be fancy. I’ll

probably have to go get something since the last time I had a fancy dinner was when I graduated high

school, but I’ll make sure I don’t embarrass you. Now go! I have another client coming after you, so

let me do my job.”

“Now you listen to me,” I grumble, giving her my sternest glare. “I don’t want your head getting

twisted up in thoughts of being an embarrassment to me. You will never embarrass me. Understand?”