Señora has been seeing a new massage therapist for a while now. I understand her need for massages with all the issues going on in her delightful but fragile body. However, she generally comes home crowing about what a wonderful masseuse this immigrant from Russian or Ukraine is.
Now add to this his back story of being an immigrant working seven days a week to send his child through college. Sure has my furry, bouncy, big-eyed puppy on a leash beat for touching the heart strings of the fairer sex.
I sometimes feel that if I could make Señora feel ten percent as good in bed as she seems to feel from her time on his table, she would be strutting around the barnyard clucking about Studmeister Redneck to all the world.
I think I am a little jealous.
She recommended this gentleman to a good friend of hers, La Guapa. Now La Guapa is crowing about the magical touch of the therapist.
It makes me want to go the masseuse school… barring that I am sure Señora would share his contact information.
Well, you could go get one also and then the both of you could relax with a good afterglow.