Her Tender Touch

Sally D’Angelo is wiping down her little therapy room when Jake Adams limps in on crutches, still wincing. The minute he clocks her, his eyes go wide. “You must be my ten o’clock,” she says. Jake fumbles a “Yeah, I’m Jake,” and Sally helps him onto the table, lifting his leg and giving it a careful turn. He’s hurting, but he can’t stop staring at her chest spilling over the neckline of her top. She books him a few more visits, and Jake shoots her a goofy grin that screams he’s already crushing hard. A couple of weeks later the limp’s mostly gone, but his infatuation isn’t. They chat while she works, and when Sally asks if he’s seeing anyone he admits he isn’t. She promises he’ll find someone soon, and Jake mumbles, “Maybe I already have,” giving her a shy, hopeful look. Next appointment, Jake shows up with flowers. Sally laughs, hugs him tight, and Jake feels those heavy tits mash against his chest. “Least I can do,” he says, “you got me walking again.” Sally tells him this could be their last session if the check-up goes well. Panic flashes across Jake’s face. He blurts that he’s still tender and could really use some more of that massage work. Sally studies him, then smiles. “Strip down,” she says. She starts at his calf and works up, fingers digging into the muscle. When she reaches his thigh Jake mutters that’s the spot. Sally’s hand drifts higher. “Mind if I go a little farther?” she asks. Jake swallows. “Any higher and you’ll be… rubbing my dick.” Sally just giggles. “I know.” From the second they met, Jake’s been hooked on Sally’s touch. Turns out Sally likes his boyish charm just as much.