I push my palms up and down to the rhythm of your breathing, only to move them slowly down, taking my time – today is your day afterall *smile*. I continue to massage, moving one hand, my left, to your lower back where I simultaneously rub in circles. Palms grinding just right into your lower back area, right at the base of the spine where all the nerve endings were gathered, making you sensitive to my touch. My small hands smooth as I slide them over you, roughening a bit at my handling of your massage, working the kinks out. Each breath you take, seems to make the frustration leave with each breath exhaled. Smoothing my left hand down, I open them both to that of a ‘butterfly’, I dig my thumb into your skin, pinching and rolling them over the dip of where your spine base is, causing a moan to escape from your lips. I smile and can’t help but lean forward to run my tongue from your lower back to your neck, following an invisible trail, tasting the sweet almond all the while. I can’t. Sophia looked a bit distant, like she was focusing on some point two miles behind my shoulder. ‘He makes me feel… so secure. So protected. When he holds me, and just towers above me, I feel like nothing in the world can hurt me. It’s… I don’t know if you understand, as a man, what that’s like.’ After a brief, uncomfortable silence, I said, ‘Maybe, when I was little and got hurt and my parents would be there for me… I’m sorry, that was a really stupid comparison. Forget I said anything… just… stupid.’ I looked away from Sophia, back into the window getting pounded with sleet, feeling dejected. Sophia reached across the table and placed one of her hands over mine. ‘No, Phil,’ she said. ‘That isn’t a bad comparison at all. Your parents made you feel safe and warm and loved, and that’s how Damien makes me feel. At least…’ and her voice trailed off. I looked at Sophia and she had that distant look in her eyes again. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I didn’t press the issue. If she was.
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