Page 62 of Falling Again

“See you then, at your cottage.”

“The cottage? Not the clinic?”

“No, no, this is a house call.”

After a quick breakfast, I pull my portable PT chair from a closet in a spare room of the house—another reminder of how large this place is for one person. When I lived in Charming, I had a small apartment and used to make house visits. Many of my clients were elderly and couldn’t make it to the PT offices, so I’d drive around town to their homes. Being a PT was never a long-term plan for me, but it’s fulfilling in its own way—to help those who need extra TLC. Plus, I’m damn good at my job.

The chair is easy to sit in, allowing the patient to lean forward slightly so I can massage their back and neck. This works well for Chloe’s neck injury since it will keep her upright and supports her head.

I gather up a few more tools—a massage gun, oils, and CBD cream—into a duffel bag. I can always run back here to get anything else I need once we start. I think I’ll start with a gentle massage to assess her pain points and locate the knots. Then try easing the tightness with the cream, and, if needed, use the gun to isolate knots. Chloe should feel like a new woman after I’m done with her. Though, this won’t be like my normal appointments and Chloe’s not any client. With her fall came the leap across the line that was drawn and there’s no going back. Before I can convince myself that I’m too afraid to take that leap, too afraid to get close to another person just for them to be ripped away, I walk to the cottage.

“Oh, Doctor, thank goodness you’ve arrived!” she says dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead.

“I tried to get here as soon as I could. I know you’re in dire need.” I play along, approaching the front door. “Scooter, stay outside with the ducks.” I nudge his side with my foot. He looks up at me with big sad puppy dog eyes, then bolts over to the duck pond.

Chloe steps aside and I see that she’s made some room in the cottage by moving the coffee table off to the side. I unfold the chair and unpack my bag of tools.

“Do you want me naked?” she asks, and my face flies up, my cheeks burning. She has the faintest smirk on her face, clearly pleased by my reaction to her question.

“Uh, well, yes but”—I cough—“it’s not that kind of massage. You sit as if you are sitting backwards on a chair, then lean forward. If you want to change into a tank top, that would give me enough to access your neck,” I say, suddenly switching into professional mode. “Whatever you’re comfortable with—though, a little fabric won’t stop me,” I say, winking at her, remembering again, I’m here with Chloe and not an actual patient. I can let go with her.

“You got it, Doc,” she says and pulls up her sweater over her head. Underneath, she has on a light-green tank top with skinny straps. As if instinctively, I gaze down at her breasts, which fall plump at her chest. Her tank top is sinfully thin not leaving anything to the imagination. I look up at her and see a bashful grin on her face as she straddles the chair and leans forward onto the headrest. She’s wearing a pair of oversize sweatpants, the waistband rolled up a couple of times so they hang low on her hips. As she leans forward, the tank top rides up, exposing a tantalizing strip of skin. Her curly hair waterfalls along her back, so I gently pick up the strands, making sure to get every ringlet, and twist it, then place her hair over one of her shoulders to reveal her upper back and neck.

I warm up the massage oil in my hands and start by gently rubbing her upper back, moving to her neck and then down to her shoulder blades, working in rhythmic motions. Chloe lets out a moan that tells me I’m working the correct spots. She’s soft all over. I could keep my hands on her all day if she’d let me. Not only being able to be this close to her, but helping her feel good is intoxicating. I press my thumbs in with more pressure at the base of her neck, and she lets out a grunt.

“How’s the pressure?” I ask, making sure I’m not going too rough for her.

“Fuck, that feels so good, Ty.” She whimpers when I travel up to her neck. My knees nearly give out her curse and at the sounds she’s making from my touch. I keep working her shoulders and neck. She doesn’t have any knots which is a good sign. She’s recovering well and hopefully my touch can help relax her even more. My fingers graze the skin under the straps of her top, and I move them gently so they fall off her shoulders. Chloe’s arms are resting on a ledge under the headrest, so I reach around, rubbing along her biceps, then return to her back. I dip my fingers to the bottom of her shoulder blades, inching her tank top a bit lower.

I feel every cell of my body vibrating and myself hardening with every moan and whimper she lets out.

I angle down so I’m next to her ear and whisper, “Are you feeling good? Do you want more?”

“Mmm, yes, keep going,” Chloe says, and I see her rocking forward a bit in her chair.

I retrieve the massage gun from my bag and turn on the lowest setting, starting at each shoulder, then slowly easing down her back on either side of her spine. She wriggles in her chair as I move the gun to the outside of her hips.

“Is this too much?”

“Not enough,” she says. “I want your hands.”

I swallow and put the gun away, returning my fingers to her bare skin. I dip them under her shirt and kneel low, kneading at her lower back, traveling below her waistband. I press my palms up her back, then to her neck, inching forward to massage her chest from the back, pressing my fingertips into the soft top part of her breasts.

“Lower,” she requests, and I do as she pleads, grazing the peaks of her breasts over her shirt and cupping the weight of them in my hands. I knead them while circling my thumb over her nipples, and a high-pitched moan escapes her. Her head is out of the rest now, and she’s leaning back toward me, still sitting in the chair. I dip my hands under her top and massage her breasts, skin on skin.

“Fuck”—I inhale sharply—“Chloe, you’re incredible,” I say as her head falls back to rest on my hip. My erection inches from her mouth.

Her eyes bat open, and as she looks at me, I smile down at her, my hands still gently massaging her skin.

I lean down and whisper to her ear, “Do I make you feel good, sunshine?”

“I always feel good when I’m around you,” she rasps out, and my heart explodes into a million pieces. “Now”—she turns in her chair to face me—“it’s my turn to make you feel good.” Her tank top falls to her waist, revealing her round breasts. She pulls me by the hips closer to her and dips her hands under my joggers. I’m speechless as she keeps my eyes locked with hers while lowering my pants to my feet. Without breaking eye contact, she takes a long, slow lick from the base of my erection to the tip, then captures the end in her mouth.

“Hey, be gentle with your n–Fuu—” I can barely finish my sentence as I clench my teeth, watching her take all of me down her throat. My hand goes to the back of her head, supporting her as she pleasures me. I bat away thoughts of, “Is this too much too fast?”, as the warmth of Chloe’s mouth envelops my length.

I need more contact with her. I need our bodies connected. I reach down and pinch her nipple, and she lets out a moan while she’s pumping my cock in her mouth. I ball up her hair gently in my fist and work her steady motions, letting my head fall back. I can feel myself tipping on the edge, so I gently pull her head back and she releases me with a pop. She leans back on the chair and looks up at me breathlessly, her face slick and eyes beaming and glassy. I bend down and kiss her roughly, then pick her up under her thighs and move us to the couch, placing her on my lap.

She immediately starts to grind on me, her sweatpants a barrier between our bodies. I twist her to the side so her back is lying along the couch, and I pull her sweatpants off, realizing Chloe wasn’t wearing any underwear. I brave a glance at her center and see it gleaming with pleasure. I make way up to her with a trail slow of kisses from the inside of her right knee to the top of her thigh, then switch sides. She’s bucking her hips at me, and I place my hands on her waist to still her.