Rear Window - Sex Stories

Rear Window

... I could tell how good a masseur he was. His hands were strong and gentle. He was working some kind of magic on me as he carefully went through a whole set of exercises that the hospital had devised for me. I have to admit I felt so much better after the session. ‘Where did you train, Paul? You have wonderful hands’ I said. ‘I trained as a physio here in London for three years after school, and then went travelling, got to Bangkok, learnt their massage techniques, ran out of money and worked as a masseur there for a while until I came back to London.’ I wondered about him working as a masseur in Bangkok and what that might have entailed. Paul chatted away about his time travelling and how much he had enjoyed Bangkok. That was a city I had always wanted to get to but had never got round to visiting. He was easy to talk to; probably I realised because he was a good listener, a skill that must have come in very useful in this job. He got me back into my t-shirt and sweat pants and wheeled me back into the living room. I had my Apple laptop on the desk in front of the window so I could do some work from home. It also gave me the chance to look at what was going on outside the window. The windows were floor to ceiling and I could see most of the courtyard and a lot of the three other blocks. It was a mixed development with some shops on the ground floor, artisan stuff mostly, bread, cheese, wine shop and the ubiquitous coffee shop in one corner. The first floor was let out as ...

... office space and the top two floors as apartments. The planning authorities had specified to the developers that they couldn’t install elevators as it was a listed building so, it became literally a walk up. Paul had made some tea and we sat looking out and I explained the history of the place. I told him that families were split up once they came into the workhouse and the only times they could get together was at exercise time in the central courtyard before having to go back to their segregated buildings. ‘Those poor people,’ Paul said, ‘we can be so intolerant. I know all this has changed,’ and swept his arm across the view outside, ‘but we still don’t accept people for what they are.’ He said this softly but with such passion I had to turn and look at him. He blinked once or twice, turned away and said he would leave me alone for the afternoon. In addition to being a wonderful masseur, Paul turned out to be a very capable cook. Lisa was coming by this evening as a kind of one woman house warming. I asked Paul if he could cook for three tonight and he said it would be no problem. Lisa barged in about 6 o’clock and having kissed me on the cheek and made a lot of noise about how she had warned me so many times about that bl**dy motorbike and that I never listened to her and when was I going to find a woman and settle down because the clock was running and I wasn’t getting any younger and yes I was very handsome but there is no time like the present... She could as usual have ...