Page 22 of Pushing Daisy
“Ok. Would you like me to turn around?” Sloan asks jokingly. Daisy is treating this as if they are in an elementary school gym class, which is entertaining. Of all the rules and expectations she was expected to abide by, hiding her body was never one of them. Her family didn’t exactly tell her to go streaking, but she was taught to be proud of her form and all that it allows her to do.
“Yes,” Daisy responds flatly, evidently not appreciating Sloan’s attempt at a joke.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” Daisy shoots back, a slight blush of color beginning to creep up her neck.
“Okay,” Sloan agrees, respecting Daisy’s request, and turns so her back is facing her. She hears Daisy shuffle to the other corner and turns to see her back is turned as well. Sloan turns back to face forward, but not before noticing the small tattoo of a broom with a circle around it on the back of Daisy’s hip. Sloan smiles to herself, putting that piece of information aside, and undresses, then slides the soft robe over her arms and ties it around her stomach.
“You can turn around now,” Daisy instructs.
Turning to face Daisy, Sloan stops. The soft light coming through the window makes Daisy glow. Her purple hair sparkles, casting dancing shadows on the wall as the sun lights up her face, making her look… like a goddess. She swallows down whatever mixed bag of feelings this is causing inside. She may look like a gift from Hecate, but Daisy is more like a hound from Hades. Dangerous and unpredictable.
A soft knock sounds at the door, breaking Sloan’s thoughts. “It’s Franklin. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” they respond in unison.
The handle turns, and Franklin steps in. He’s clad in dark pants and a fitted black T-shirt that wonderfully sets off his green-toned ogre skin and white Converse. His blonde hair is tied back into a loose bun, though a few curly tendrils have escaped, creating a softness to his large, muscular, intimidating frame. Sloan looks at Daisy and is pretty sure she sees animated hearts popping out of her eyes. Possibly even a little drool. Sloan looks back to Franklin and tilts her head as she assesses. He’s objectively attractive, if you’re into that sort of thing.
“Good afternoon. I am Franklin, and my pronouns are he/him. It is my pleasure to guide you through this experience. Could I get your names and pronouns if you’re comfortable?” His voice is soft and soothing.
“I’m Daisy, and she/her. Though they is okay as well.”
“Thank you. And you?”
“Hi. I’m Sloan, and she/her.”
“Well, nice to meet you both,” he says. “I was informed that the setup of this session was a bit of a surprise. However, if you are willing, I think we could have a great time and learn some techniques to take into your regular life.”
“That sounds great,” Sloan responds.
“Wonderful. Who would like to be massaged first?”
Sloan waits, giving Daisy the choice. She looks at her and sees Daisy chewing on her bottom lip again. “I can be massaged first if you’re comfortable with that, Daisy,” Sloan offers.
Daisy nods in agreement, her face saying she’s happy to have the decision made for her.
“Thank you for volunteering,” Franklin says as he moves to the side of the table, pulling the covering back and holding it up before him. He turns his head and closes his eyes as he says, “Sloan, if you are comfortable, kindly disrobe and lay face down on the table, placing your face in the hole and arms along your sides; we can get started.”
Sloan steps up to the side of the table, her back facing Daisy, and undoes her robe, letting it fall to her feet. She hears a slight intake of breath behind her and smiles. She climbs onto the table and lies down as instructed, then feels the covering laid over the top of her. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to help calm her nerves. It’s been so long since she’s been touched by anyone in any kind of intimate way that she’s a little concerned she may combust upon contact. She inhales deeply, reminding herself that this is all for the event. The touch is clinical. It means nothing.
“Miss Daisy, if you could step up here to her head, we can begin the instructional session,” he says. She hears Daisy’s soft steps move toward her and feels her presence settle above her head.
“So, we are going to start with a basic back massage motion,” he says, rubbing a lavender-scented oil on her back. “Place the palms of your hands here and here,” he instructs, pointing to spots on her back. Daisy’s hands land on her back, soft and warm. “Now, using equal pressure, you can check in with Sloan to make sure it’s not too much. You want to slide your hands down her back, making sure the pressure is in the base of your palm rather than your fingers.”
Daisy takes a deep breath above her; Sloan can hear the shakiness in it. She’s nervous. Interesting.
A nest of butterflies bursts in her stomach as Daisy’s hands slide down her back. Fluttering, dancing butterflies ignite her magic inside, pooling in her core and flooding her senses. She sucks in a short breath as the rush makes her head spin, calming her powerful response to Daisy’s touch on her exposed skin.
“Oh god! Sorry, was that too much?” Daisy asks, lifting her hands abruptly and breaking contact.
Breathing out, Sloan responds, “No. It’s okay. It was just a little surprising.” A little surprising, my ass. That was heaven.
Daisy returns her hands to Sloan’s back and makes the motion a few more times before Franklin guides her through a few more maneuvers and then has her piece them all together. By the end, Sloan’s insides are a liquid mess, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. She’s relaxed yet incredibly turned on. As Franklin continues talking, Sloan’s mind is mentally preparing to switch roles and do all of this to Daisy.
Maybe Daisy was right, and they shouldn’t have gone forward with the session after all.
CHAPTER 13
