Wouldn't that be great... but no.

"Why don't you two come with me to my office," Rick whispered to Eliza.

"Ummm. That sounds deliciously kinky."

"Uh, Rick."

He turned to see an impatient looking Usha glaring at him.

"I'm sort of busy here."

"You promised sample massages. There's a line of potential customers outside your door and I don't see any prospect of your ex-wife and her sister actually signing up. So, do them on your own time."

Usha didn't seem jealous, which was the good news. The bad news was, she was right. He'd committed to making this gym a success and that meant serving actual customers rather than enjoying the threesome he'd wanted for so long. Damn, he hated it when other people were right.

"Got to get back to work," he said. "But don't forget about that offer," he added.

"What offer?" Jan demanded.

"I'll tell you later," Eliza promised.

It was one thing for a threesome to happen when the women had been drinking, dancing and were very horny. To get it after dispassionate discussion between two sisters seemed about as likely as winning the lottery. Oh, well. Back to work.

Sure enough, there was a line outside the massage room. Eight women, all of them topless, all of them sweating from their dancing and stinking of desire, were bickering amongst themselves over who had really gotten there first.

There was no way he could bring eight women to orgasm in the limited amount of time he had. His mother-in-law had been fond of the expression 'a lick and a promise,' and he figured that was literally all he would be able to offer.

Rather than let the women continue to bicker, he chose the one closest to his door and ushered her inside.

She was probably in her fifties, still attractive if a bit overweight, with bleach-blond hair and big natural tits. He watched her carefully as she walked into the massage room.

She moved gingerly, as if it hurt to put her feet down and he gave her a quick diagnosis of plantar fasciitis.

"Up on the table," he said.

He slipped off her high heels, gathered a dollop of almond oil, and pressed into her arch.

She made a hissing sound and he nodded. "You need to wear shoes with better arch supports. There are devices that can help. Check your drug store. And if you don't improve, see your doctor. In the meantime, let's get some of your tension out."

He spent a couple of minutes rubbing her feet, pretending not to notice that she'd put her hand between her legs and was stroking herself. He had seven more women to serve and he couldn't afford the time to get this one off... or even let her get herself off while he handled her feet.

After five minutes, he told her that all gym members could make appointments for full hour massages and sent her on her way.

One down. Seven to go.

Except there weren't seven.