Support her ankles

John somehow managed to restrain his enthusiasm enough to walk calmly over to the damsel in distress rather than launching himself across the room. Kneeling behind her, grasped her ankles firmly, supporting them. "Try now," he instructed.

Kate bent forward gingerly, her arms clasped behind her. As she did, her scantily clad behind jutted cutely backward and upward until it was mere centimeters from his face. The faint, musky odor of her sex drew his eyes forward. Through her legs, the bell shape of her gown swung forward to reveal the supple skin of her lean abdomen tapering upward to the bases of her slopes.

"Erragh. Oh, that feels good!" she exclaimed, "Ilyana, you were right; my trapezius feel so much better."

"Good! Keep going!" Ilyana encouraged.

She straightened and then bent forward once more. John felt his lap stir as her scent and sights graced him a second time. Quickly he straightened and stepped away. "Glad I could help," he said breathlessly.

"Yeah, thanks!" smiled Kate, innocently.

John felt his libido rising despite his reserve.