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She responded that a massage was nothing. She took off her baseball cap, came over, and said “let me just see if it’s serious.” I said that I had an ice pack on it. She pulled the covers back and saw me covering my cock, with an ice pack between my legs.She took away the ice pack. I was in too much pain to fight with her. She started rubbing my leg. It did make me relax. As she kept going, I realized she was pretty good at massage. I let her massage my legs, my chest, shoulders, and then she returned to my upper legs. I was still covering my manhood. She took the right leg and pulled it away. I winced. She apologized gently and then began massaging it from my ankles all the way up. She stopped when she got to my groin.She said, “Your hands are in the way.” I said, again, that I was good. “Thanks for the massage.” She took my hands and pushed them aside, then quickly covered my groin with her hand. She massaged it skillfully. I asked her how she learned to do that and she said. ”Martin pulled out his cell phone and made a call. He talked for five minutes with Peter and then hung up. He was laughing about something. Much to Franklin’s chagrin, he wasn’t sharing the joke with him.With the attempt to incite a racial riot over and done with, Martin went to lunch. With gusto, he bit into his burger. He swore that the Hamburger Hut made the best hamburgers in the entire city. The French Fries sucked, but the burgers were amazing. This was not a fast food burger, but a real burger cooked on a grill.He had just swallowed the first bite when his cell phone went off. Cursing, he put down his burger and wiped his hands on several napkins. The burgers here were really juicy.“This is Martin.”“Martin, I’m down here at the church. I want to meet.”“Sergeant O’Malley, I’m happy to hear from you. I’m in the Hamburger Hut. Come on down here, I’ll buy you a burger.”A few minutes later, Sergeant O’Malley entered the Hamburger Hut. He was well familiar with the place. He was.
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