🌶️ Sue’s After-Dark Diaries – Episode 44
🌶️ Sue’s After-Dark Diaries – Episode 44
Sharon’s Well Woman Night
Reader Intro…
Thursday.
7.30 pm.
The night had finally arrived.
Not because I wanted it to.
Not because I planned it.
And not because I’d agreed to it.
But because Sharon had announced to an entire WhatsApp group that a Well Woman Night would be taking place in my flat and, as history repeatedly proves, once Sharon announces something, it becomes reality whether anybody involved likes it or not.
This was all because of Jake.
Jake and his apparently life-changing hands.
Jake and his annoyingly handsome face.
Jake and the experience Sharon had spent the last week describing like she’d accidentally discovered a new branch of science.
The woman had been floating around the community ever since.
Smiling.
Glowing.
Telling people they “needed the information.”
Which is how I ended up opening my front door to a procession of women carrying prosecco and curiosity.
Neither of which improves decision-making.
Benji was already on the sofa.
Watching events unfold.
Poor dog.
He’d seen enough of my life to know where this was going.
And somewhere in the bedroom was Dan.
Quiet.
Which worried me more than if he’d been buzzing.
The Arrival
The first knock was Carol.
The second was Linda.
The third was Sharon.
The fourth was Sharon coming back because she’d forgotten her notebook.
That should have been a warning.
Anybody carrying a notebook to a prosecco-based gathering is planning something.
“Right,” Sharon announced as she entered.
I poured wine immediately.
Nobody had even sat down.
“Thank you all for coming.”
Carol clapped.
Nobody joined in.
Not because they disagreed.
Because nobody knew why she was clapping.
Sharon didn’t care.
She opened her notebook.
Adjusted her glasses.
Looked around my living room.
And pointed directly at me.
“Before we begin.”
I already knew.
“Sue withheld information.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I absolutely didn’t.”
Mark had arrived thirty seconds earlier and was already laughing.
That was impressive even by his standards.
Carol looked delighted.
“What information?”
Sharon stared at everybody.
Then shook her head.
“The face.”
Oh God.
Not this.
“The face?” asked Linda.
“Yes.”
“The entire face situation.”
Mark folded in half.
The idiot nearly dropped his wine.
The Face Situation
“I walked in expecting a massage therapist,” said Sharon.
“Reasonable.”
“I walked in and found a man who looks like he should have his own warning label.”
The room erupted.
I closed my eyes.
Just briefly.
Carol was loving every second.
“How handsome are we talking?”
Sharon considered this carefully.
Like a witness being asked to estimate the speed of a vehicle.
“Annoyingly handsome.”
“That’s not a measurement.”
“It’s the correct measurement.”
Linda was laughing.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I spent five minutes wondering why Sue hadn’t mentioned it.”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
“It was extremely relevant.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It was.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It was.”
Mark was crying now.
Actual tears.
Carol pointed at me.
“You knew?”
“I knew he had a face.”
“That’s not what she means.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I wasn’t preparing a brochure.”
Sharon nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?”
“You should have prepared a brochure.”
Sharon Gives Evidence
This was where things started getting dangerous.
Because Sharon sat down.
Took a sip of prosecco.
And began what can only be described as evidence.
“I arrived stressed.”
Carol nodded.
“How stressed?”
“Three separate people annoyed me before lunch.”
The room laughed.
That sounded exactly like Sharon.
She took another sip of prosecco.
“I kept trying to remember.”
Even Benji opened one eye.
Sharon carried on.
“I kept trying to remember.”
“Remember what?”
“Who I was annoyed at.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“You forgot?”
“Completely.”
Linda laughed.
“That’s actually impressive.”
“It was unsettling.”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy being annoyed.”
Everyone laughed.
Mark nodded.
“That’s elite-level relaxation.”
“It was a massage.”
“No.”
Sharon shook her head.
“It was more than that.”
That sentence should never have been allowed into the room.
The room immediately leaned in.
I immediately knew this was getting worse.
The Floating Effect
“Relaxed.”
“More than relaxed.”
“How much more?”
“I floated out.”
There it was.
The phrase.
The one she’d been using all week.
Carol nearly climbed across the coffee table.
“What does that mean?”
“I floated.”
“You walked.”
“Physically.”
“Ah.”
“Emotionally, I floated.”
Linda looked interested.
Far too interested.
“How much floating?”
“Considerable floating.”
The room laughed.
Sharon wasn’t joking.
That was the problem.
“I got halfway home before I realised I was smiling.”
“At what?”
“A tree.”
“A tree?”
“Yes a completely ordinary tree.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“I even waved at a pigeon.”
“That’s not normal.”
“I know.”
Mark had tears in his eyes.
Carol pointed dramatically.
“That’s Jake.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“It absolutely is.”
“It was a tree.”
“It was Jake.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It was.”
“Fine. It might have been Jake.”
Carol stared at her.
“You waved at a pigeon.”
“I did.”
“A real pigeon?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Sharon shrugged.
“It felt rude not to.”
“To a pigeon?”
“It acknowledged me first.”
That feels exactly like the sort of thing Sharon would accidentally say.
Mark immediately lowered his glass.
“This is getting worse.”
“I know.”
“You’ve never waved at a pigeon before in your life.”
“Not that I remember.”
Carol pointed.
“That is the strongest review we’ve had so far.”
The Magic Hands Discussion
Then Carol asked the question everybody had been waiting for.
The question.
“What is it about the hands?”
The room went silent.
Sharon sat back.
Thinking.
Searching for words.
Then failed completely.
“They just know .”
I groaned immediately.
Carol slapped the sofa.
“I knew it.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“You couldn’t have.”
“I absolutely could.”
Sharon nodded.
“They know things.”
Linda was laughing.
“What do they know?”
“I don’t know.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“It doesn’t help me either.”
Mark was useless now.
Absolutely useless.
He was laughing too hard to contribute.
Sharon continued.
“I’d be sitting there thinking about one area, and somehow he’d already found it.”
Carol gasped.
“See!”
“See what?”
“The knowing.”
“There isn’t any knowing.”
“There absolutely is.”
“It was a massage.”
“It was a very good massage.”
Linda raised a hand.
“Can I ask something?”
“No.”
“Yes,” said Carol.
Linda ignored both of us.
“Was it really that good?”
Sharon didn’t even hesitate.
“Oh absolutely.”
“It was a very, very good massage.”
Carol narrowed her eyes.
“How good?”
Sharon thought about it.
Far too seriously.
“Memorable.”
Mark closed his eyes.
“That’s not helping.”
“I’m just answering the question.”
Mark immediately reached for more wine.
The Toe Curl Incident
Carol narrowed her eyes.
“Hang on.”
“What?”
“You said it was a very, very good massage.”
“It was.”
“And it hit the spot?”
Sharon nodded.
“Oh absolutely.”
“There we are.”
“It was those hands.”
“The magic hands?” asked Linda.
“The magic hands.”
Mark spat wine into a napkin.
Gone.
Completely gone.
Sharon looked confused.
“What?”
Nobody answered.
Because nobody could.
Carol was crying.
Linda had gone pink.
Mark was folded in half.
“It was a massage.”
That somehow made everything worse.
Then Carol pointed again.
“Wait.”
“What now?”
“You said you floated home.”
“Yes.”
“And you said your toes curled.”
“Yes.”
The room fell silent.
Carol leaned forward.
“While you were floating home?”
Sharon looked horrified.
“No, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then when?”
“During the appointment.”
Mark stood up immediately.
Mark stopped halfway to the kitchen.
Looked back.
Pointed at Sharon.
Opened his mouth.
Thought better of it.
Then continued walking.
“Nope.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need fresh air.”
“We’re indoors.”
“Then I need different indoors.”
“Why?”
“I’m trying very hard to behave.”
Nobody stopped him.
He disappeared into the kitchen still laughing.
Sharon watched him leave.
“What did I say?”
Linda Makes A Confession
Once Mark had returned, things went from bad to worse.
This was the moment things truly fell apart.
Linda had been quiet.
Too quiet.
Never trust quiet people after two glasses of prosecco.
“I’ve got a question.”
Everyone turned.
Linda immediately regretted speaking.
“What?”
She hesitated.
Then blushed.
“Oh no,” said Carol.
That made it worse.
“It’s nothing.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is.”
“It isn’t.”
Mark was already laughing.
He sensed weakness.
Eventually, Linda sighed.
“Do you have his number?”
The room exploded.
Again.
“OMG,” said Carol.
Carol nearly fell off the sofa.
Mark physically couldn’t breathe.
Even Sharon looked pleased.
Linda covered her face.
“Oh God.”
“No,” laughed Carol.
“That’s fair.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is.”
“It really is.”
Linda finally lowered her hands.
“It’s just…”
Here we go.
“It’s been a long time since anything made me feel like floating, and if he’s making women smile at trees, we should probably get ahead of the waiting list.”
Silence.
Even Sharon looked impressed by that one.
Then complete chaos.
Carol screamed.
Actually screamed.
Mark disappeared behind a cushion.
Sharon nodded sympathetically.
Like she’d just heard something profound.
“I understand.”
Linda groaned.
“Please stop understanding.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re making it worse.”
“I know.”
Of course she did.
Carol Starts Recruiting
The moment Linda confessed, Carol became impossible.
Phone out.
Messages started flying.
Recruitment underway.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Women deserve information.”
That was Sharon’s fault.
She’d infected Carol.
Three messages went out.
Then five.
Then seven.
Replies started arriving instantly.
“Oh, Denise wants details.”
“No.”
“Rachel wants his number.”
“No.”
“Janet says she’s available Tuesdays.”
“Janet says if he’s that good she’ll rearrange choir practice.”
“Janet doesn’t even like missing choir.”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why is Janet involved?”
“She’s interested.”
The room was spiralling.
Fast.
Sharon was now answering questions from women who weren’t even present.
Like customer services for wellbeing.
“Does he do evenings?”
“Sometimes.”
“Weekends?”
“I think so.”
“Waiting list?”
“We don’t know.”
“We should find out.”
One woman simply sent:
IS HE REALLY THAT GOOD?
Sharon replied before anybody could stop her.
YES.
Three exclamation marks.
This is a disaster.
The Buzz Nobody Wants To Discuss
Then it happened.
From the bedroom.
Buzzzzz.
Long.
Distinct.
Unmistakable.
Silence.
Everybody heard it.
Carol looked around.
“What was that?”
“No idea.”
Immediate response.
Automatic.
Linda frowned.
“I definitely heard something.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
Mark started laughing.
That was the giveaway.
The absolute giveaway.
“Mark.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
He couldn’t.
He was gone.
Tears.
Shoulders shaking.
No words.
Just laughter.
Carol looked suspicious.
“Why is he laughing?”
“No reason.”
“There is definitely a reason.”
“There isn’t.”
Another buzz.
Carol froze.
“There it is again.”
Nobody said anything.
Mark immediately became fascinated by his wine.
Sharon carried on writing in her notebook.
Linda looked around the room.
“You all heard that?”
“Heard what?” I said, already knowing this conversation was lost.
Carol narrowed her eyes.
“Sue.”
“Carol.”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mark nearly slid off the chair.
Sharon calmly turned a page in her notebook.
“So anyway…”
And somehow she carried on talking about Jake.
Jake Becomes Community Folklore
By 10 pm, Jake wasn’t a massage therapist anymore.
He’d become community folklore.
The man with the magic hands.
Women were discussing him like he was a public service.
Carol had messages from eight women.
Linda wanted details.
Two women wanted bookings.
One wanted recommendations.
Another wanted Sharon’s full review.
Sharon was delighted.
“The information is helping.”
Carol checked another message.
“Denise wants to know if he’s taking new clients.”
Sharon nodded.
“Sensible question.”
“We’re discussing him like he’s a rare sighting.”
“Well.”
“Sharon.”
“I’m just saying I understand the interest.”
Mark laughed.
“We’ve turned a massage therapist into local folklore in under two hours.”
“That’s quite efficient, actually,” said Sharon.
No.
It wasn’t.
The information was spreading.
Different thing entirely.
Then Carol delivered the sentence that summed up the evening.
“I think every woman should know about Jake.”
Mark shook his head.
“We’ve accidentally launched him.”
The room agreed.
Which was terrifying.
Because now it sounded official.
Like a campaign.
Or a movement.
Or the beginning of Chaos.
Sharon Has Another Idea
The most dangerous words in the English language are:
“I’ve had an idea.”
And unfortunately, Sharon said them.
The room immediately went quiet.
“What idea?” I asked.
Sharon checked her phone.
Smiled.
Then smiled even more.
I knew that smile.
Bad things lived behind that smile.
“Apparently twelve more women want to attend.”
“Attend what?”
“The next Well Woman Night.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Because there wasn’t supposed to be a next one.
There barely should have been a first one.
Yet somehow, without Jake ever setting foot inside my flat, Sharon had managed to turn one massage appointment into community folklore.
And judging by the look on her face…
she was only getting started.
Let yourself be carried away into the exciting world of sex swings. Give into the enchantment of the romance, passion, and deep sensuality that come with celebrating your love together. Surrender to the unique feeling of deep intimacy through shared peaks of passion.
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📧 Drop Me a Line, You Naughty Wanderers…
Hey, my deliciously daring darlings… I can practically feel the secrets tingling between your toes. That midnight tiptoe across a hotel carpet, the sly brush of an ankle under the dinner table, the time your feet led you straight into trouble, and you loved every scandalous second.
Why hoard those toe-curling tales? Kick off your heels, wiggle free, and spill the juiciest, most wicked foot-fetish confessions you’ve got. I want the stories that make my pulse race, my cheeks flush, and my soles itch to join the fun.
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