"slow down, my love, you're confusing me" - Dido, Do You Have a Little Time (Life For Rent)
I was prone on her table with a small pillow covering my eyes to block out the sun and fill my nose with the aroma of jasmine. She pushed the hem of my shorts further up my leg and then slid her fingers under the snug fit of my UnderArmor and slowly rolled it back a few times so that I was all the more exposed. Her hands were strong and deliberate and moved along my body without fear. The fear was all in my head. As she worked the muscles in my pelvic bone and then worked her way down my torso, sometimes straddling me, sometimes pulling on me in ways that made me want to yelp all I could think of was suppression. Please, God or whatever higher power is out there if there is really one, because, you know, I have doubts, but that's for another conversation, at this moment I'm putting my trust in you, my invisible friend in the sky, please don't let my body react that way right now. Please don't let me get...
a case of the giggles.
I was already embarrassed enough that my feet looked so tore up. Twenty miles does not make for pleasant tootsies. I apologised before lying down and she chuckled saying she wasn't scared, that far worse had come before me this day. It took me 5 hours and 40 minutes to finish this day. It took mere seconds for her wet towel on my dirty feet to bring the quick hint of laughter to my nervous system. I fought it. I wanted to enjoy this ten minute assault on my legs. She worked out the cramp that was sitting at the top of my left calf. She did something to my knees that might have been magic. I could have danced on these knees when five minutes before I could barely walk. But then, she returned to the balls of my feet. She rubbed them for what seemed like far too long and I wondered if she was watching the strained smirk on my face or the heave in my stomach muscles as I battled desperately with the desire to pull away, to laugh uncontrollably as if I was 7 years old and I would die if I chortled any longer. But I was winning. Nearly 6 hours of running makes you believe you can truly control everything that happens in your body with a thought.
And it worked. She continued on and worked my upper thighs coming perilously close to other areas of my body that needed calming. The mind is a powerful tool and this was a powerful woman. The power struggle was a stalemate.
She removed the pillow from my eyes and I gave her a generous tip.
And I giggled and readjusted in my seat the entire drive home.