CHAPTER FIVE: Cassandra
I stared into the eyes of the man in the photograph on the laptop screen and tried to remember where I had seen him before. I didn’t think we had ever met—him I would remember, probably. He looked vaguely familiar, yet completely foreign, like the long-lost twin of someone I used to know.
“That is Devin McMasters,” Lulu said with a dreamy sigh, like a love-struck girl talking about a boy who barely knew she was alive yet had taken the time to feel her up under the bleachers during a football game. “He is the owner of Paradiso Resort & Spa. He is the world’s foremost Yoni Master.”
I frowned at her. “Yoni? Like the guy who plays keyboards with John Tesh?”
“Not quite.” She steepled her fingers like she was praying, closed her eyes, and slowly rocked her head back and forth. “He is the master of Yoni massage. Those who have had the honor of feeling his healing touch call him, ‘The man with the magic hands’.”
“His healing touch?” I echoed, my voice oozing with sarcasm like sap from a tree. I rolled my eyes. “The man with the magic hands? Seriously, Lu? Wait a minute… Yoni Master… Yoni is Sanskrit. It means—“
“Vagina,” Lulu said with a smirk, her manicured eyebrows wiggling. “Vulva, womb, vagina, pussy, cunt, twat, furburger… you say tomato, I say toe-mah-toe.”
I gave her a thoughtful nod and rested my chin on my hands, looking at her with one eyebrow cocked. “So, he is a vagina master? Don’t all men lay that claim?”
Lulu grinned, though she was trying hard not to. “He is a Yoni Master,” she said. “A master of Yoni Massage.”
“A master of pussy massage, you mean. Now I’ve heard everything.”
I picked up the bottle of scotch from the desk and poured another inch into the tumbler. I picked up the tumbler, took a slow sip of scotch, and sighed as it burned its way down my throat. I narrowed my eyes at her and shook my head. “I’m calling bullshit on this one, old friend.”
“Don’t be so quick to dismiss it,” she said, turning the laptop screen back in her direction. “Yoni massage isn’t just about a hot guy rubbing your pussy. Christ, I can get that any night of the week. Yoni massage is a full body massage that ends with the spiritual touching of the yoni and a release of toxins, tensions, emotions...”
I rolled my eyes and snorted at her. “Spiritual touching of the yoni, i.e., rubbing of the clit and fingering of the hole till you cum like a banshee.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Lulu said. “Yes, there is touching and rubbing and fingering and cumming, but not like you think, not in a sexual way.”
“You cum, but not in a sexual way?” I leaned back in the chair and grinned at her. “I’d like to hear you argue that in court, counselor. ‘Yes, your honor, he had his hand in my cooch and I came all over it, but not in a sexual way.’” I brought the tumbler to my lips without taking a sip. “You sound like Bill Clinton back in the day, arguing that a blowjob didn’t constitute sex.”
“Depends on the blowjob,” she said with a smile. She sat back with her arms crossed. “Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Fine,” I said, leaning forward again, setting the tumbler on the desk and rolling it between my palms. “So, this guy, this Yoni Master, will rub your clit and finger your pussy, but not in a sexual way.”
“Correct.”
“Yet you still have an orgasm.”
“Yessss,” she hissed out the word like a snake, eyebrows arching, eyes going wide. “Multiple orgasms if you’re lucky.”
I frowned at her. “Wait a minute… How do you know all this?”
“Because the Yoni Master has massaged my yoni on more than one occasion over the last couple of years. And it was the most amazing sexual experience of my life.”
“Even better than the night you spent with those twin swim suit models from Milan?”
“They were from Venice,” Lulu said defensively. “But yes, even better than that.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “If this Yoni massage is so life-changing why haven’t you told me about it before? You share everything with me. Christ, Lu, you’ve called me from gangbangs to give me a review of the cocks in the room. Why have you kept this to yourself?”
“Because I didn’t think you needed it before,” she said with a shrug. “And somethings are private.”
“And you think I need it now.”
“I do.”
“Bullshit,” I said, my eyes rolling again. “I think I’ll stick with my vibrator, thank you very much.” I tipped the glass to drain the scotch, then reached for the bottle on the desk and poured myself another. I would take a car service home to my apartment, so I wasn’t too concerned about getting totally shitfaced before heading home.
“It’s not bullshit,” Lulu said seriously. She wasn’t arguing with me. She was stating it as fact whether I believed it or not. “It’s true. And it’s amazing. And if you don’t try it at least once it’s your loss.”
“Here’s to my loss then.” I sipped the scotch and watched her from the corner of my eyes. There was something about her expression, the softness of it, the dreamy look in her eye, the pout of her lip that made me want to know more.
I asked, “How many times have you been to Paradiso?”
She didn’t have to think about her answer. “Four times in two years.”
“Four times?”
She took a sip of her wine and slowly bobbed her head. “Yes, ever since we started turning a profit and pulling a regular paycheck, I reward myself with a weekend at Paradiso every time we win a big case.”
“Like the Mandalay case?”
“Exactly like the Mandalay case.”
“So, you’re going to book a weekend there.”
“I am.” She studied me with her eyes. “Do you want to come along? My treat?”
My brain started going through the reasons to say no. Money was always the big one for me so I started there. I was well on my way to becoming wealthy, but I still pinched every penny until it screamed. I asked, “How much does it cost?”
She waved at the question like it was a bad smell. “It’s six-grand for the three days and worth every penny.”
“Six-grand? As in six-thousand dollars? Jesus, Lulu, are you stealing money from our firm?”
She grinned. “If I was stealing money I’d be going to Milan for the weekend with the Italian models, not the mountains north of San Diego.”
“Six-grand is a lot of money,” I said.
She shrugged with the wine glass at her lips. “You’ve seen my place and my car. I live frugally. I spend money on things that make me happy.”
“Like a pussy massage.”
“Yes, smart ass, like a pussy massage.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “And don’t try to pretend that you’re not interested because you are. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Fine,” I said, holding up the tumbler in consent. “Tell me about Paradiso and this Yoni Master.”
“Okay, so you arrive on Friday night and leave on Sunday night. The place is unreal, in the mountains north of the city. They have private villas, like cabins, and a main resort that’s like a luxury hotel.” She turned the laptop toward me again. “You can read all about it on their site.”
“I will,” I said with a dismissive wave. “Get to the pussy massaging.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes at me. “Fine. Okay. They offer all guests different options for massages. Full body, back and legs, neck and shoulders, body wraps, mud baths—whatever you need. They have a staff of highly-trained and certified masseuses who handle that. But if you want a Yoni Massage, Yoni Master Devin is the one who administers that.”
“No pussy rubbing from the normal masseuses then.” I playfully sighed. “That’s too bad.”
“Yoni is an art,” she said seriously. “It takes years of practice and study to master.”
“I’m sure it does,” I said. “And is there an extra fee to have your pussy rubbed by the master or is that included in the ridiculously-high room rate?”
“If you want a Yoni Massage, you book a consultation with the Master so he can evaluate your chi and ensure you will benefit from the massage and aren’t just looking to have a hot, famous guy masturbate you.”
I held up my hands to slow her down. Either the scotch was working its magic or I had heard her incorrectly. “Wait… so you have to have a private consultation with the Yoni Master so he can determine whether you really need your pussy rubbed or just looking for a good time?”
“It’s all about your chi,” she said, putting the tips of her fingers to her chest and closing her eyes. “Your spiritual center, your source of power.” She held out her hands with her palms facing me and fingers spread. “He puts his hands on your chest and closes his eyes. You’re immediately filled with this feeling of… warmth… peace… and within seconds he will tell you whether or not a Yoni Massage will benefit you. If he feels you’re just in it to get off, he will refuse to perform Yoni.”
I raised one eyebrow and pursed my lips. “Could it possibly have anything to do with the age, looks, and bank account of the woman he’s laying hands on?” I asked, the suspicious lawyer in me shining through. “Let me guess, you have to fill out a financial application of some kind and agree to a background check just to book a weekend there? Supply them with a list of your bank account numbers, your net worth, and so on.”
“Will you stop.”
“Or if you’re broke, but super-hot with big tits, he’ll add you to his pussy rubbing schedule for free, like doing pro bono legal work for the poor.”
She shook her head. “When did you get so cynical?”
“I’ve always been cynical, my darling, but you don’t seem to mind when it puts money in our pockets.”
“Whatever. That’s not how it works,” Lulu said, getting a little defensive. She stuck out a finger and wagged it at me. “The first time I went there he put his hands on me and immediately knew that I had a high stress job. He told me that he could feel the tension in my muscles and the toxins flowing through my veins. He told me my aura was dark because of all the stress in my life.”
“And did he agree that your Yoni needed a good rubbing?”
“Yes,” she said seriously, her eyes looking out the window behind me at the hazy California afternoon. “He said he could help me. And he did. I have never felt so relaxed and serene in my entire life.” She let go a long, satisfied sigh at the memory of it. “And I had never had such a powerful orgasm. It was… incredible…”
I smiled. “Really good, huh?”
“Good does not begin to describe it,” she said with a smile. He spent an hour rubbing my entire body with his special oil. My arms, legs, ass, back, shoulders, tits…”
“He massaged your tits?” I felt a little tingle in my nipples. “What was that like?”
“It was amazing!” she said, cupping her hands to her bulbous tits and giving them a squeeze. “Even before he touched my clit or pussy I was having orgasms. I mean, it’s hard to explain, but just his hands on my skin, the way he gently massaged the oil into my muscles. And when he finally put his fingers inside me and rolled my clit with his thumb and hit my G-spot…” She fell back in the chair and fanned herself. “I literally exploded. Everywhere.”
Now she had my interest. I took a sip of scotch and tried to sound nonchalant, but didn’t do a very good job of it. I could hear the urgency in my voice as I asked, “What do you mean?”
She put a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. She said, “Cass, I had multiple orgasms, one after another, for like five minutes. And here’s the weirdest part… I squirted juice out of my pussy like a fucking firehose.”
I frowned at her. “You squirted?”
“Yes, I squirted.”
The chair beneath me was getting warm. Or maybe it was the heat coming from my twat as I pictured Lulu spread out on a massage table with the gorgeous man’s hands inside her. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a lesbian, nor am I attracted to Lu, but you don’t have to be a lesbian to enjoy a good porno. I swallowed the scotch and asked, “Exactly what does that mean?”
“It means every time I came my pussy squirted like a fucking water fountain. I mean clear liquid literally squirting out of my cunt. I soaked everything. His hands, the table, my legs. At first, I thought I was peeing, but when I looked down I saw it, clear liquid jetting out of me. It was the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. Ever. And the only time I do it is when I get a Yoni Massage.”
“Wow… And he didn’t mind that you were squirting all over him?”
She closed her eyes and slowly let her head swivel from side to side. “He was totally calm the entire time. He just said, ‘Let it go, don’t be shy’ and so I did. I just closed my eyes and let it fly.”
She slid her hands down her breasts and for a moment, I thought she was going to massage her twat right there in front of me. Instead, she laced her fingers together across her stomach and gave me a dreamy look. I wondered if her panties were as wet as mine. She said, “And that’s not all.”
“Tell me.” I said it quickly. I was eager to hear more and wasn’t trying to hide it.
“After I came five or six times I had this overwhelming desire to pee.” She blew out a long breath. “And he said, ‘Don’t’ hold back. Let it go’.”
“Oh my god, you didn’t.”
“I did,” she said, covering her cheeks with her hands. “I spread my legs and pissed like a race horse. All over the towel and myself.”
I put a hand over my mouth. “What was he doing while you were peeing everywhere?”
“He was massaging my stomach, urging the pee to come out, like it was no big deal.”
“Okay, that’s a little… weird,” I said.
“Weird, but fucking hot as hell,” Lulu said.
I shook my head at her. “This is starting to sound like a bad porno movie of the piss fetish variety. Are you sure this wasn’t something you saw on YouPorn.com?”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, girlfriend,” she said, holding up her wine glass. “It was fucking amazing. I’m going back next weekend. I made the reservation months ago, but I’m sure I can get you added to the room.”
“I don’t know,” I said. The laptop was turned with the screen facing me. The Yoni Master was staring at me, smiling, daring me to come. There was something about his eyes. His gaze was hypnotic, mesmerizing. I had to struggle to look away.
Lulu finished her wine and took the glass back to the wet bar. She picked up a napkin and dabbed the wine from her lips as she walked toward my door. She paused before going through.
“Read about Paradiso this weekend on their website,” she said, nodding at the laptop. “And let me know. No offense, but I’m pretty sure your Yoni could use a little action.”
“Thanks, partner,” I said, back to rolling my eyes. “I’ll see you Monday.”