Page 58 of Black Light: Cured

But no, even now, I watch as women dart in and out, all of them in professional scrubs and their

hair pulled back out of their faces. If this isn’t a medical facility, why are they dressed like that? It

feels very dishonest and off-putting.

The problem is, however, as much as I know she’s not in a wank n’ spank parlor, there’s still that

desire to pull her down onto that table and fuck her within an inch of her life. Shifting in my seat, I

reach down to adjust myself. It won’t do any good to let my mind wander as to what sort of sketchy

stuff I’d do to Lila if it wasn’t illegal.

Before I go in for my massage, I pull up my schedule just to double check surgery time. The player

I was called in to examine last night had, in fact, torn his ACL. If only it was a simple sprain.

Thankfully, though, they made the decision to call me, even if it did cut into my time with Lila last

night. It was imperative that he was on my surgery table so I could get him taken care of and into

rehab as soon as possible.

If I stick with just the sixty-minute massage I have scheduled for me, I should be able to get in, see

what the hype is all about, get done, and get out with plenty of time to do my pre-surgery routine. The

receptionist tried talking me into a ninety-minute session, but that would be too much.

Besides, sixty minutes with Lila where I won’t be able to sexually touch her will be agonizing

enough. Closing my eyes, I conjure the memory of her taste, her smell, the feel of her body as she

ground against me. I never thought I’d crave her again so soon, but here I am, outside her spa after

jerking off yet again.

Normally, I can keep myself in control. But with her, control is out the window. In fact, I’m

honestly surprised I agreed to see her, knowing that I have to be good on her table. It doesn’t help that

despite getting off, I’m already hard again. I know what she wears under her scrubs, at least when

she’s at Black Light and wanting to play afterwards. She may have said she doesn’t wear the same at

work, but I can still imagine it.

A nice, lacy cheeky, pulled up just enough to see the swell of her ass. Will she be sore today?

Will sitting be difficult for her? I hope so. I hope that every time she sits down, she’s not only

reminded of me but of the fact that she’s supposed to actually take care of herself.

Taking in a deep breath, I exit the car and head for the spa. The inside is just as nice and

professional, complete with shelves full of various bottles of ‘magic potions’ lining the walls. I pick

one of bottles up and look at it, snorting at the claim it can tighten pores. It’s supposed to be all