She set a palm on his pectorals.
Fifty thousand dollars. Does this woman want to be pounded into delirium? He wondered. Else, his massaging skills weren't nearly upgraded enough to elicit a fifty thousand dollar price. Or does this woman simply have too much money?
Either way, he had to give her a deserving service.
From his peripheral vision, he saw Ms. Terri observe from her deck chair as she sipped a drink with keen interest.
Marke put his palms on Mrs. Tero's hips, the feel of her skin smooth, nipples rock-hard and showing themselves as outlines.
Her lips were plump. A little too plump, almost like pillows. They looked succulent.
He pulled her closer, his erection poking against the swimsuit around her stomach. She was a rather tall woman, nearly reaching his neck.
Ms. Tero looked down, seeing the base of his shaft as it strained against the underwear.
"Looks painful," she said, her palm on his chest trailing downwards, caressing the abs, and grazing his pelvis as her nails made contact with the dragon, provoking it. "Want me to relieve it?"
The woman was eager. So was he.
Crouching down, he wrapped his arms around the intersection where her butt and thighs met, between the meat spilling out warm and doughy, and lifted her up, pressing her against himself, tits on his chest, hardened nipples like diamonds.
She threw her arms around him with a yelp.
Her forehead pressed against his, breaths hot and fragrant and inviting.
"There's the move!" Ms. Terri called out suddenly, clapping twice.
Mrs. Tero whipped her head back, glaring with a frown. "What wrong with you?"
Ms. Terri threw her arms up to show she was innocent. "Hey, my bad. Just stating what happened to me as well, is all."
Marke liked seeing the mouthy woman playing defense. "Yeah," he added, holding back a grin, "Don't ruin the moment, Ms. Terri."
"Uh huh," Mia concurred. "Listen to handsome here. His abs feel like steel." Her arms roamed around his back to emphasize the point.
Ms. Terri didn't appear offended, merely sputtering. "Whatever you say, darling."
"So, um, sorry about that," Mia apologized, lowering her head and pecking him on the lips, her lips sticky, and lingering before pulling away after ten seconds. "My friend is a nuisance."
"That's just ungrateful." He heard Ms. Terri mutter.
"Let's ignore and get to the massage, shall we?" He gave her lower lip a lick, tasting grapes.
She inhaled a breath. "All right," she said. "It's been a while." She smiled. "I was taking my desires and time for granted till now. Not anymore. Mold me, Marke. Mia is all yours tonight."
So the woman definitely knew she was here for a pounding instead of his massage? Did Ms. Terri market him as such? A little insulting, but not a lie. He had racked up a lot more stat points than professional points since he had only handed out two massage sessions till now within a week. It wasn't bad.
But, as he carried Mrs. Tero with only one arm towards the balcony, he swept his gaze about the wealth around him and felt like he wasn't doing enough. Taking time for granted. The words echoed in his mind.
He maybe been an underdog before the system appeared – now though, if he was the only one in possession of the system, he was the luckiest man alive, and he was still stuck in his old ways, though protesting about how lightly he was taken internally, but never taking the drastic step that was required in reality.
What was it he wanted? Respect? Pleasure? To be recognized for a skill that wasn't sexual and required skill? With the system, he could be the best at his job. Better than people who had painstakingly honed the art of massaging for decades.
He set the woman on the edge of the pool, staring up at her with a dazed look.
Everything else he could take for granted. Not the system. Not his future. What if it dissipated just as abruptly as it had arrived?
It had been four eventful days, a roller coaster of emotions and pleasures, and though it felt like he had done enough, he could do more.
He couldn't return to the life of a fraud anymore.
"I know I'm pretty," Mrs. Tero said, leaning down and pecking him once, pulling away as she rested her feet just over his shaft, the balls of her feet grazing his dragon, supple like a baby's skin, like the soles of her feet had never touched ground barefoot. "Don't need to stare." She brought her lips down upon his once more, shifting her feet to step entirely on his cock. She pulled away for just a moment, whispering, "I can feel it pulsating," before locking her lips on his once more.
The woman was way too eager.
Playing with her now would only cause him to neglect the professional aspect of this session, as his arousal would make it difficult to focus on the massage itself.
That couldn't do. Not anymore.
He hadn't reached the point in life where he could afford indulging his every fantasy without any repercussions. That would come later. Now, though, he had to put in work. There was no tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would be busy with Mrs. Ann.
He pulled back, climbing up to the edge beside her.
"Anything prepared?" He asked Ms. Terri. "Oils? Ointments?"
"I got wine." The woman shook the glass.
"Downstairs?"
Ms. Terri gave a mirthful smile, glancing at Mia. "Nothing there either."
The woman was lying through her teeth. "That's fine," Mrs. Tero scoffed. "Bring the wine."
"There's no need." Marke stood there with a dazed expression.
Cold and Cooling.
Couldn't it be used for massage? That application he hadn't even thought of.
"Huh?" Mia looked towards him with an inquiring gaze.
"I think I may have a specialty for situations like these too." If this works, I am an idiot. "Of course, I'll bring the wine too." He wasn't dumb enough to decline such an offer.