Coach Sinclair hated and loved his GPS. It was taking him down Gay Street to avoid construction on Main Street, and as he drove, he thought he saw his star quarterback in a green suit go into the Ganymede Spa. He shouted, but Chad didn't hear him. He was concerned that Chad had no idea what went on in this part of town. Sinclair drove around the block, and finally found a parking space. By the time he got back to the green stucco building with white Grecian pillars, a sign hung in the window of the locked glass door. It read, "Ring Bell For Service".
So he did.
BUZZ.
BUZZ. BUZZZZZ. BUZZZZZ.
Chad was naked as three pairs of hands massaged depilatory all over his body in preparation for his bath, and spray tan. He had never had so sensual a massage before. Their hands were everywhere. He was vaguely aware of the incessant buzzing.
"Sounds like you have a customer, Brendan," said Brandon.
"No, it's your turn, Brandon."
"Will one of you two go answer that door," growled Byron.
"I think it stopped," said Brendan as his hands kneaded Chad's thighs, and buttocks.