Ledge Walkers Read Free

laughter from everyone for the sick joke, an arm slap from Claudia for deviating from the script, and a cheek slap from myself for a badly run-on sentence.

    "You all remember it, don't you, girls? Kickball, pushups, badminton, laps, claiming to have your period one hundred and twenty-five days in a row. Well, they didn't teach us what we needed to know to grow up to be strong, healthy women, now did they?"

    A horrifically loud “No!” shook the room. Then they spouted every pathetic gym activity they knew, following each with “Bullshit!” They were madder than hell, and I could not take it anymore. I did the cowardly thing and ducked into the spare bedroom. Retrieving a stack of white sheets, I winked at Lover Doll and then made my way back to the living room. As I tossed the stack into the middle of the room, all eyes turned to me.

    "So this one, ladies, is massage,” Claudia announced to a steady stream ofoos andahs. “You'll have to strip.
    There's a sheet for everyone to wrap up in. Panties are optional."

    Between them, they exchanged glances until the verdict was unanimous: They would go along with the plan.

    Laura grabbed the first sheet, teasing, “You belong to the KKK? They don't like queers, you know."

    Before I could make my retort, Maggie was studying the one she had grabbed. “Look,” she said, pointing to a mark on the sheet. “It's not KKK. She swiped them from a hospital—from St. Mike's."

    "I just hope it wasn't St. Mike's Home for the Bedridden and Incontinent,” Susan added, much to my chagrin.

    "Oh, shut up, you guys!” I said. “I got them from the thrift store. Claudia washed and bleached them. There's nothing wrong with them. Now shut up and get moving."

    As they took turns stripping in the bathroom, Claudia and I set up a borrowed massage table for each couple, and one for Alison, who would be our guinea pig.

    Soon, the living room was filled with white-sheeted bodies. Everyone walked about like clumsy geishas.

    In perfect time, there was a quiet knock at the front door, and I let in our massage therapist.

    "This is Janice,” I introduced. “She's going to be teaching us a few things. She's trustworthy, and she's one of us, so please feel comfortable. Ask questions. Whatever you need to do. Alison, you get the massage from the pro."

    As Janice set up, Claudia and I stripped and joined the ranks.

    Janice began with a short speech on the importance of touch and how it helps a couple with bonding. Alison reclined on the table next to her, and I wondered what she thought about bonding with a stranger. Maybe as a yoga teacher she understood things we didn't, as she seemed unfazed.

    "Okay, so the point of this is non-sexual touch,” Janice said. “Pay attention to your partner's needs. Be gentle.
    First, we'll concentrate on one partner, and then we'll switch."

    With that, bargains were made, and eventually, Claudia, Holly, Ginny, and Susan were all prone. Janice handed out small bottles of oil to each of the apprentice masseuses.

    "Always warm the oil in your hands before you touch your partner. A shock is not the best way to begin."

    "Come on, Sutter,” Laura said from the table adjacent to ours. “Get it nice and warm."

    "I am. I am,” I corrected. “You just pay attention."

    Janice furthered her instructions, “Okay, once the oil is warm, place your hands gently on your partner's neck and shoulder area. Like this.” She began slowly massaging Alison's shoulders. “You want your back motion to go toward an extremity. Think of it as forcing the negative energy toward a place where it can easily escape the body, like the fingertips, the feet, the top of the head."

    I watched what she did and then tried the same on Claudia. I must have done it correctly, as I could feel her relax under my touch, and an almost inaudible moan escaped her lips.

    "Feel good?” I asked, for which I received a lazy nod. “Just tell me if I hurt you."

    After several minutes of this,