Slice Of Heaven

I lay on the table, naked under a sheet and a blanket. The room was warm, the music vaguely Japanese.

For someone not used to being able to take a trip to the toilet alone, who has to keep one ear cocked for trouble while in the shower,  simply lying  undisturbed was quite something.  But when the beautiful hired girl massaged fabulous-smelling ointment into my face I’m sure my body levitated.

They called it a facial, but when someone massages your head and neck, your arms and fingers for  almost an hour, I call it a little slice of heaven.