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"Just lay down here on the cushion, Deborah," Susan said as she patted the soft material.

"Okay, let me get my drink first," she said. Deborah had a towel wrapped around her slender body. She had to pinch the ends together to keep it from falling to the floor. Susan desperately wanted to see that. That's why she gave her friend one of the smaller towels in her apartment.

Deborah set her glass of Glenlivet on the glass coffee table nearby, next to the Edvard Munch oversize book, and lay down on her belly, on the cushion which Susan had laid out for her on the floor. Earlier she had covered it with a deep, red colored satin sheet.

"What should I do with my hair and what about the towel?" Deborah asked.

"Try to relax, okay. I think someone had a little too much weed. You're paranoid."

"I think you're paranoid." She then laughed.

Susan squeezed a dollop of the plumeria scented oil onto a palm and slowly warmed it with the friction of her hands.

"I'll start at your feet and work my way up. Are you comfortable now?" ...

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