She like that his chest was hairless. Her husband was hairy and she had never really liked the scratchy feel of sex with him.“Have we met?”“I sa...d hello to you when you got off the bus.”“Oh, okay, if you say so. But my name is not Sheila. It’s —”He interrupted her. “Sheila will do. I’m Rory. Skiathos is a fantasy. As are we.”She giggled. “That’s very profound. Rory? Are you British?” His accent was not American.“You know how to wound a man. I’m Australian.”“Sorry.”“And you’re American,. The stillness and laziness that accompanied this beautiful part of England, where the pace of life seemed to almost stand still, stood in sharp contrast to the hectic life of London and provided the therapeutic calmness that helped Evelyn to quickly drift into a relaxing, peaceful sleep. The enthralling, dreamy massage continued its enchanting mission. It was as if she could feel two masculine hands caressing her back from her waist upwards with two thumbs pressing firmly on either side of her. More

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