THE FLY ON THE WALL — Florences’ experience.
story by
MOI!
Tell me, is this fiction or Non-fiction?
Every once a month I think of the spa. How it makes me feel, and caters to my lady parts. How after a section, my patty feels on top of the world. All nude — bear — clean, soft and floating in my undies.
The spa is my sanctuary and I say it all the time because — Peace — and tranquillity are unmatched. I thank God for that first experience I had at the traditional spa down Apex Road. That was how I met my boyfriend, JK, who’s the most hypnotizing man I’ve ever met in a long — ass — while.
Of course, I caught feelings for him after about a week or so, but, it might just end up in complete tears, whatever, to err is human and I’m at the stage in my life where I am available to risk it all so I taught.
5 years later, I’m in love abii lust with someone else, my current boyfriend Kenneth, who books me private spa dates and trips and takes good care of my bank statement and warmth. That's how he booked me another spa treatment this Saturday, at this new place his friend's girlfriend recommended for him. One of our favourite things to do is to prep our bodies for each other because he loves to ridiculously ATE ME OUT! Hence this spa date I’ve been looking forward to all week.
What’s not to love about a spa though? Is it the atmosphere? The scented candles? The soft, erotic surreal/jazz music playing in the background.
Okay “enough fantasizing! I need to get my ass to the spa. I need this treatment. After my overbearing Boss, my lousy new team member who likes to pretend to be a rookie just so that she’d be given lesser roles, what an imp. I deserve a whole lot of treatment.” So I get in the shower, mentally spacing out as the water runs through my hair, shoulders, tear-drop-shape medium size breasts, and down my ass-crack. Everything reminds me of him, even the water. How his hands scroll through my back and neck, his tongue tracing my collarbone, his fingers… Ummm, everything he does, he does well, always leaving an imprint in my head.
But guess what? *Drum roll*… I AM THE OTHER WOMAN. Yes, I am no longer ashamed of it but dissatisfied.
I'm dissatisfied that I’ve got to wait my turn or better till going back to my previous lover, which is a no-no for me. He’s just too toxic and unstable, plus I need a fresh plate! I deserve a FRESH PLATE.
Anyway, I’m done bathing, shake off the thoughts of him, I dry my body. Put on one of my favourite sundresses, grab my keys, and head out.
Looking forward to a good day because it’s a cloudy, cool afternoon, and I’m open to new things and all that life has to offer. The other day, I heard about manifesting on the radio and I’ve been trying to incorporate it into my life. So — yeah, I am manifesting a happy ending all day every day for the rest of the week.
As I wind up my glass, an unexpected passenger swoops in! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! I try to chase it out of my car before it perches on me, but it flies to the back seat, making itself comfortable.
Alas, I arrive at the spa, “DREAMS VILLE,” boldly written at the top of the office building. I walk in.
“Good day Ma’am, what would you like to do today? Do you have an appointment already?” says the receptionist.
Yes, Florence — A hot oil massage and a Brazilian wax, I reply.
“Great! Is this your first time with us ma?”
For the treatment? No. But in your establishment, yes.
“Very well then, here’s a membership card.”
She punches my details into the computer and offers me a seat.
“A masseuse will be with you shortly.”
Thank you.
While I patiently wait my turn, the unexpected passenger from the car, brushes my face, irking me all over again. I attempt to kill it but it flew faster than I could raise my hand at it.
5 minutes later…
“Ms Florence, we are ready for you.”
A beautiful dark-skinned slender tall, woman in dreadlocks wearing the spa uniform walks up to me. I pick up my bag and follow her.
“Hello ma’am, welcome.”
Thank you.
“Here’s your towel.” She hands me a big white towel.
“Please take off your clothes, change to the towel, and I’ll be back with your essentials.”
I nod, hung my bag on a handler, and strip. A minute later she walks in with a bowl of hot oil and sugar wax, a pack of wet wipes, and a bottle of aftercare solution.
I lay down breathe out and prepared for a good massage.
“Ma’am, I’m ready. Please spread.”
Sorry?
“I said spread your legs ma.”
Oh, sorry! I didn’t hear you the first time. Been a little bit distracted lately.
“Is this your first time?”
Of course not, giggling.
“I understand ma.”
I turn around, flat on my back like a cadaver.
She pours some hot oil into her palms, massaging it into my skin, rubbing my back slowly, then my stomach, arms, thighs, and legs. I sigh in relief, “Ah… right there” as she deepens her reach into my lower back.
She adjusts my thighs, moving closer to my bikini line, she gently spreads white powder on my bikini line and vajayjay, she rubs it in then places a portion of warm wax over my lady part and says,
“ Are you ready?”
I nod.
WHAM! She yanks it off!
I hiss, trying not to scream. She pats down the area with her other palm.
“Sorry”
I nod, and she goes again. Yanking off the entire hair.
ARGHHH! I make a fist, and arch my back like a worm who just had a salt bath! The room is air-conditioned yet I’m sweating all over and heated up.
YANK!
*TSSSS*
YANK!!
*TSSSSSS*
Immediately pressing down the raw skin of my vag, to reduce the pain and pressure.
“We are almost done.”
Tic — Tic — Tic! I can hear everything in the room, the clock ticking, the buzz from the AC.
YANK!!
*ARRRGGHHHH!!* I scream out loud.
Smiling “sorry ma.” pressing down my freshly waxed vag.
Whew, “Finally,” I say.
I laid there — gasping, trying to get my mind off the sweet pain of the sugar wax. Remembering all he told me last night, what he intends to do to me, it has got me heated up and salivating down there.
The wax lady goes behind the curtains, picks up a bottle of solution, and wet wipes, then spreads my thighs, then my lips…
“Wow, ma’am, you are so WET.”
(Silences)
*Slightly embarrassed*, yeah… sorry about that.
“Don’t be, let me get that for you.”
She wipes me slowly and gently, almost like she’s a nurse and I’m her patient.
Awkwardly, I giggle. Trying to turn off the section of my brain that is almost misreading this procedure, like this is normal right? It’s all professional right? She’s not intentionally making me feel some type of way? RIGHT? What I’m feeling has nothing to do with —
“I can help you with this ma’am. I can tell you need to (pause) release.” She looks at me dead in the eyes smiling.
“I can dry you up with a better towel. More effective and thirst-quenching. (pause) No one would know.”
My heart is racing as she cleans me up, looking me straight in the eyes, she blows warm air from her mouth towards my vajayjay.
I gasp… then look up at the wall, I notice someone else in the room — watching us.
“It will stay between us. I promise, my treat to you.”
Ummm. No one except the fly on the wall.
“What?”
I point up to the wall.
We both giggle, easing out the tension.
Never mind miss, my man will sort it out for me.
We both laugh, as she packs up, while I dress up.
“Did you enjoy your wax ma’am?”
I did. Thank you.
“I hope to see you again?”
Yes, you most definitely will, you have good hands!
Smiling nervously, I pick up my handbag and exit the room. Immediately I get into my car and dial my best friend’s number.
Sissss! You won’t BELIEVE what just happened!
“WHAT?”
So this happy hour thing is real!!!
What do you think? You can answer the question if you’ve ever had Florence’s experience.
To be continued…
