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He grasped me firmly but gently just above my elbow, guided me into his room and quietly shut the door. We were alone. He approached soundlessly from behind and spoke in a soft voice: "Just relax." Without warning, he reached down and soon I felt his strong hands start at my ankles, gently probing, moving steadily upward along my calves. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, yet somehow I just didn't care. His touch was experienced and sure. As his hands moved up my thighs, I gave a slight shudder and partially closed my eyes. My pulse pounded. His knowing fingers caressed my abdomen, my ribcage. As he cupped my breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. Probing, searching, knowing exactly what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders and slid them down my tingling spine. Although I knew nothing about him, I felt trusting, expectant. This is a man, I thought, who is used to taking charge, not taking no for an answer, a man unafraid to tell me what he wanted. A man who could look into my soul and say, "Okay, ma'am. All done." My eyes snapped open as he smiled and said. "You may board your flight now!"
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