“Please, get comfortable on the table while I wash my hands.” Amy turns away from me to give me the privacy I need to settle on the table. I climb on and lie down on my belly while covering my backside with the towel. My face finds the hole at the head of the table and I try to at least pretend I’m relaxed.
My field of vision is limited to a basket of flowers on the floor below me. I can only rely on sound now.
“I prefer not to talk during a session as I feel it hinders relaxation.” Amy’s words float above my head. I’m fully aware of the nakedness of my skin and I wonder how she sees it. I wonder how this makes her feel. Her footsteps approach. She has taken off her shoes and she’s barefoot. She adjusts the towel briefly and the air that flows underneath is enough to instigate a mad pitt
