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By *ommo400 OP Man
2 weeks ago
Queensferry |
"You ever get that thing where your lower back seizes up like someone welded your vertebrae together?" Tom asked, rotating his shoulder with a wince. He leaned against the stainless steel counter of Harry's food van, where the smell of sizzling chorizo hung thick in the afternoon air.
Harry flipped a tortilla with practiced ease, squinting at his friend. "Yeah, and I know exactly where you're going with this. You want a massage recommendation." He scratched his stubble, then shot Tom a sideways glance that lingered just a beat too long. "There's this one place I go... but it's kinda niche."
Tom rolled his stiff neck. "Niche how? Do they walk on your back with cleats? Because at this point, I'd take it."
Harry snorted, sliding a loaded breakfast burrito across the counter. "All male staff. Very... hands-on." He watched Tom take an oblivious bite before adding, "Like, *very* hands-on."
Tom wiped chorizo grease from his beard with the back of his hand, shrugging. "Dude, as long as they fix this cement mixer I call a spine, they could be dressed like fucking Teletubbies for all I care." He didn't notice Harry's smirk when he pocketed the business card—just a plain black rectangle with gold embossed lettering that simply read "Thermae" and an address in the arts district.
The following Thursday, Tom stood outside a nondescript brick building between a vintage leatherwear shop and an Estate Agents. The only signage was a small brass plaque by the door. He checked his phone again—this was definitely the place Harry mentioned. The door buzzed unlocked before he could knock.
Inside smelled like eucalyptus and something muskier underneath. A guy with sleeve tattoos and a waistcoat handed Tom a key attached to a wooden chip. "Locker room's through there. Everything off except the towel." Tom caught the guy's eyes lingering on his shoulders as he turned away.
The changing room had slate floors and cedar lockers. Tom stripped, folding his Henley and jeans with military precision—old habits from his army days. The towel barely covered his thighs. Through the next door, the heat hit him like a sauna, thick enough to taste. Low lighting glowed amber across heated stone massage tables. He laid face-down on the one nearest the wall, the warm stone easing his muscles immediately.
The door clicked open with a quiet but deliberate sound, and footsteps padded across the heated stone floor—barefoot, Tom realized. A warm hand settled between his shoulder blades, the touch somehow both firm and gentle at once. "Tom?" The voice was smooth, lower than expected, with just a hint of amusement. "I'm Kevin. I'll be taking care of you today."
Tom grunted in acknowledgment, face still pressed against the table's cradle. Then he heard the rustle of fabric—Kevin’s waistcloth?—hitting the floor. The realization hit him a second later when a knee brushed against the side of the table, skin against skin. Tom’s pulse jumped. He tilted his head just enough to catch a glimpse of golden thighs, the faint outline of tan lines, and—oh. Kevin wasn’t just barefoot. He was *bare everything*.
Tom’s fingers twitched against the table’s edge. Harry’s smirk suddenly made a lot more sense.
Kevin’s hands slid down Tom’s back, thumbs digging into the knots along his spine with expert precision. His palms were slick with warmed oil, the scent of sandalwood curling through the steam-heavy air. Tom exhaled, willing himself to relax, even as Kevin’s fingers drifted lower—along the dip of his waist, over the swell of his ass, beneath the edge of the towel. The fabric shifted, then slid away entirely.
Tom’s breath hitched as the towel pooled at his hips. The heat wasn’t just from the room anymore—it pulsed under his skin, a slow burn spreading from where Kevin’s fingers traced the dimples above his ass. He should say something. Should roll over, grab the towel, make a joke about mixed signals. But the hands working his muscles were relentless, kneading out knots he’d carried for years, and his body arched into the touch against his better judgment.
Kevin’s thumbs pressed into the meat of Tom’s thighs, spreading him just slightly wider on the table. The oil made every glide effortless, every brush of skin against skin deliberate. Tom’s cock stirred against the warm stone, a traitorous throb he couldn’t hide. He bit his lip when fingers skimmed the crease between thigh and groin, then gasped outright as one slick digit circled his entrance—not probing yet, just teasing, a question wrapped in pressure.
"Relax," Kevin murmured, his voice like the steam curling off the stones. His free hand palmed Tom’s ass, kneading the muscle there before sliding lower, fingertips grazing the underside of his balls. Tom shuddered, his hips jerking forward. The laugh against his ear was warm, approving. "Good. Just like that."
The first breach was slow—just the tip of Kevin’s finger, oil-slick and insistent. Tom’s entire body locked up, his hands white-knuckling the edges of the table. He’d been fucked before, sure, but never like this, never with a stranger’s hands coaxing him open while his pulse hammered in his throat. Kevin didn’t rush. He worked Tom with the same patience as he had his shoulders, curling his finger just so until Tom’s thighs trembled, until the tension bled out of him in a groan.
Tom's breath came in short, ragged bursts as Kevin's finger worked deeper, the slow drag igniting nerves he hadn't known existed. The heat wasn't just in the room anymore—it coiled low in his gut, tightening with every practiced twist of Kevin's wrist. His cock ached against the stone table, precum smearing a slick trail beneath him.
"Jesus fucking—" Tom gritted out, his voice rough as gravel, hips twitching backward against the intrusion. Kevin's free hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, pinning him just enough to feel the control without resistance.
"Breathe," Kevin murmured, his thumb circling the tight rim of muscle. "You're tighter than I expected." The words weren't a critique—just an observation, delivered with the same clinical detachment as a chef noting a steak's doneness. His other hand slid around Tom's hip, fingertips brushing the base of his cock, and Tom jerked like he'd been shocked.
The second finger came without warning, a sharp stretch that punched a groan from Tom's chest. Kevin didn't pause, scissoring him open with methodical precision, oil dripping down the inside of Tom's thigh. The stretch burned, but beneath it was something else—a creeping pleasure that spread like liquid fire, pooling at the base of his spine. Tom's cock was throbbing, his balls drawing up tight.
Tom's breath hitched as Kevin's fingers twisted inside him, hitting something deep that sent sparks shooting up his spine. His thighs trembled, toes curling against the warm stone beneath him. The slick sounds of oil and skin filled the humid air, mingling with his own ragged exhales.
"Turn over," Kevin murmured, his voice rough now, the professional detachment slipping.
Tom hesitated—just for a second—before rolling onto his back, his erection jutting up against his stomach, flushed and leaking. The towel was long gone, forgotten somewhere on the floor. Kevin's gaze raked over him, dark and hungry, and Tom suddenly felt like prey caught in a predator’s sights.
Kevin’s hand wrapped around Tom’s cock, stroking him slowly, thumb swiping over the head to smear precum down the shaft. Tom’s hips jerked upward, chasing the friction, but Kevin held him steady with his other hand splayed across his abdomen. "Easy," he said, though his own breathing wasn’t steady either.
Tom's throat worked as Kevin's fingers slid free with a wet sound, leaving him clenching around nothing. The masseuse—no, this was way beyond massage now—stepped back just far enough for Tom to see the full length of his erection, thick and curving slightly upward, glistening at the tip. Kevin's chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, his abs flexing as he reached for a fresh bottle of oil from the heated shelf nearby.
"You ever done this before?" Kevin asked, pouring oil into his palm with deliberate slowness. The scent of coconut and something spicier bloomed in the air.
Tom swallowed hard. "No—not like this." His voice came out rougher than he intended. Life had taught him to roll with punches, but nothing had prepared him for the electric thrill of another man's hands mapping his body like this.
Kevin's smirk was all teeth. "Good."
Tom’s pulse hammered in his throat as Kevin straddled his thighs, the warmth of his body radiating against Tom’s skin. The oil dripped between them, landing hot on Tom’s stomach before Kevin’s hand wrapped around both of them, their cocks sliding together in a slick, dizzying press. Tom’s back arched off the table, a ragged groan tearing from his lips as Kevin rocked against him, the friction just shy of unbearable.
Kevin’s free hand traced the tattoo around Tom’s bicep, his thumb pressing into the ink like he was testing its permanence. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, his breath hitching as Tom’s hips bucked upward. The words were barely audible over the wet sounds of skin on skin, the slap of Kevin’s thighs against Tom’s as he worked them both with ruthless efficiency.
Tom’s hands found Kevin’s hips, fingers digging into the firm muscle there, the tan lines stark against his palms. He could feel the shift of Kevin’s body as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of Tom’s ear. “You wanna come like this?” Kevin’s voice was a low growl, the vibration sending a shiver down Tom’s spine. “Or do you want more?”
The question hung between them, thick as the steam curling off their skin. Tom’s grip tightened, his nails leaving crescent marks in Kevin’s flesh. “Fuck,” he gritted out, his thighs trembling. “I want—” The words died in his throat as Kevin’s hand twisted just right, his thumb pressing against the slit of Tom’s cock.
Tom’s hips jerked off the table, his entire body tightening like a coiled spring. "Christ—" he gasped, his fingers digging harder into Kevin’s hips as pleasure crackled up his spine.
Kevin’s chuckle was dark, his breath hot against Tom’s neck. "Not yet," he murmured, slowing his strokes just enough to make Tom whine. The sudden loss of friction was agony. Tom’s cock twitched, leaking against his stomach, but Kevin pulled back entirely, leaving him trembling and empty-handed.
Before Tom could protest, Kevin grabbed him by the thighs and yanked him forward, his ass barely perched on the edge of the heated stone. Tom barely had time to register the shift before Kevin dropped to his knees between his legs, his hands spreading Tom wide.
The first lick was a lightning strike—hot and unexpected, Kevin’s tongue swiping flat and slow from balls to hole. Tom shouted, his hands flying to tangle in Kevin’s hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. Kevin didn’t give him the choice. He buried his face between Tom’s thighs, his tongue circling that tight ring of muscle before spearing inside without warning.
Tom’s entire body went rigid, his back arching off the table as Kevin’s tongue worked him open with ruthless precision. The wet heat was unbearable—too much, too fast—but the moment he tried to squirm away, Kevin’s hands clamped down on his hips, pinning him in place. The groan that tore from Tom’s throat was raw, ragged, his fingers twisting in Kevin’s hair as the man licked deeper, his nose pressed flush against Tom’s perineum.
"Fuck—fuck, wait—" Tom blurted out, but Kevin didn’t slow. If anything, he doubled down, his tongue fucking into Tom with relentless strokes, the slick sounds obscenely loud in the humid room. Tom’s thighs trembled, his cock throbbing against his stomach, neglected and dripping. Every nerve felt alight, his body strung tight as a bowstring, teetering on the edge of something terrifyingly good.
Then Kevin pulled back just enough to suck a bruise into the soft skin of Tom’s inner thigh, his breath hot against the wetness he’d left behind. "You taste better than I expected," he murmured, the words a rough scrape against Tom’s skin before his mouth was on him again, tongue lapping at his entrance like a man starved.
Tom’s hips jerked, his cock leaking a fresh streak of precum onto his stomach. He couldn’t think—couldn’t do anything but feel, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his gut. Kevin’s fingers joined his tongue, pressing in alongside it, stretching him wider, and Tom’s vision whited out for a second, his shout echoing off the stone walls.
Tom’s knuckles went white against the table’s edge as Kevin’s fingers crooked inside him, pressing against something that made his legs jerk like a live wire had touched them. His mouth fell open in a silent scream—no air left in his lungs to make sound—as pleasure detonated at the base of his spine, radiating outward in dizzying waves. Kevin didn’t let up, his tongue still working in filthy, wet circles while his fingers pistoned deeper, twisting on every inward thrust until Tom’s hips were twitching uncontrollably.
“Gonna—fuck—” Tom gasped, his voice shattered. He hadn’t been this hard since basic training, his cock flushed dark and straining against his stomach. Kevin pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, his lips glistening, before swallowing him down in one smooth motion.
The heat was unbearable. Tom’s hips bucked off the table, his thighs clamping around Kevin’s head as the man hollowed his cheeks, sucking with a rhythm that matched the thrust of his fingers. The dual sensation—hot, wet pressure around his cock and the relentless stretch inside him—sent sparks across Tom’s vision. He barely registered the rough sound tearing from his throat, raw and animal, as Kevin’s free hand palmed his balls, rolling them with deliberate pressure.
Kevin pulled off with a wet pop, his fingers still working inside Tom. “You close?” he asked, thumb swiping over the head of Tom’s cock, smearing precum down the shaft. His voice was wrecked, rougher than before. Tom could only nod frantically, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the slick stone.
Tom’s jaw clenched as Kevin’s fingers twisted inside him one last time before slipping free with a slick sound that made his ears burn. Before he could catch his breath, Kevin was climbing onto the table, his knees bracketing Tom’s hips, his cock—thick and flushed—bobbing against Tom’s stomach. The weight of him was solid, real, the heat of his skin searing where their bodies pressed together.
“Tell me you want it,” Kevin murmured, his hands framing Tom’s face, thumbs brushing over his stubble. There was no teasing left in his voice, just raw hunger. Tom’s throat worked as he stared up at him, his pulse hammering in his neck. He’d never been this exposed, this vulnerable—not in combat, not in bed. Something primal clawed its way up his chest, pushing past the last of his hesitation.
“Yeah,” Tom rasped, his voice rough. “I want it.”
Kevin’s grin was feral. He reached between them, guiding himself to Tom’s entrance with one hand while the other gripped Tom’s hip hard enough to bruise. The first press was slow, agonizing—a relentless stretch that burned in the best way. Tom gasped, his head falling back against the stone as Kevin worked himself in inch by inch, his breath hot against Tom’s neck.
Tom's breath came in ragged bursts as Kevin bottomed out, his hips flush against Tom's ass. The stretch was overwhelming—pain and pleasure twisting together until Tom couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Kevin held still, his forehead pressed against Tom's, both of them trembling with the effort of restraint.
"Fuck, you're tight," Kevin ground out between clenched teeth. His hands framed Tom's face, thumbs brushing the stubble along his jaw. "Breathe. Just breathe through it."
Tom nodded, sucking in air through his nose. The initial burn was fading, replaced by a deep, throbbing pressure that radiated up his spine. He rolled his hips experimentally, and Kevin groaned, his cock twitching inside him. The sound went straight to Tom's dick, still trapped between their stomachs, smearing precum across both of them.
Kevin pulled out slowly, then snapped his hips forward, driving a punched-out noise from Tom's chest. "That's it," Kevin murmured, his voice rough. "Take it."
Tom’s fingers scrabbled against the slick stone as Kevin set a punishing rhythm, each thrust driving the breath from his lungs. The heat was unbearable—Kevin’s skin sliding against his, the press of their bodies slick with sweat and oil, the relentless drag of Kevin’s cock inside him, hitting that spot deep within that made his vision blur. Tom’s thighs trembled, his toes curling against the edge of the table, every muscle taut as a bowstring.
Kevin’s hands slid down Tom’s chest, rough palms catching on his nipples, twisting just enough to make Tom gasp. “Look at you,” Kevin murmured, his voice thick with approval. “Taking me so fucking good.” The words sent a fresh wave of heat through Tom, his cock twitching between them, neglected and dripping. He’d never been talked to like this—like he was something to be devoured—and it unraveled him in ways he couldn’t name.
Tom’s back arched off the table as Kevin’s pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with a wet slap of skin. The sound was obscene, echoing off the stone walls, mingling with Tom’s ragged moans. Kevin’s fingers dug into his hips, holding him steady as he fucked into him with brutal precision, each stroke dragging over that spot inside him until Tom was gasping, his body alight with sensation.
“Close—” Tom managed, his voice cracking. He reached between them, wrapping a hand around his cock, but Kevin batted it away, replacing Tom’s grip with his own. The friction was electric, Kevin’s fist pumping him in time with his thrusts, his thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. Tom’s hips jerked, his body taut as a live wire, pleasure coiling tight in his gut.
Tom's fingers clawed at the stone table as Kevin's thrusts grew erratic, his rhythm fracturing into something desperate and raw. The air between them crackled with tension—every inhale sharp with sandalwood and sweat, every exhale a ragged plea. Kevin's grip tightened around Tom's cock, his thumb pressing just under the head in a way that made Tom's vision blur.
"Come on," Kevin growled, his voice ragged against Tom's ear. His breath was hot, uneven—nothing like the measured professionalism from before. "Do you want me to pull out?" Kevin panted with a smile, squeezing Tom's cock to prevent him from cumming yet, "Or do you want me to breed you?"
Tom's breath hitched—his hips jerking up into Kevin's grip as he felt the thick pulse of the man's cock inside him. His thighs trembled, toes curling against the slick stone. The words punched out of him before he could think: "Cum inside me."
Kevin groaned—a raw, punched-out sound—and slammed home one last time. His hips stuttered, his grip tightening on Tom's cock just enough to keep him on the edge as the first hot jet of cum flooded inside him. Tom gasped, his body arching off the table at the sensation—so much hotter, so much more than he'd expected. Kevin shuddered above him, his rhythm fracturing into shallow, jerking thrusts as he emptied himself, each pulse wringing another ragged noise from Tom's throat.
"Fuck—" Tom panted as Kevin's cum seeped out around the man's still-hard cock, the mess dripping down his thighs onto the heated stone beneath them. The heat was everywhere—inside him, on his skin, the weight of Kevin's body pressing him into the table. Kevin's hand finally loosened around Tom's cock, stroking him with slow, deliberate pulls now, his thumb smearing precum down the shaft.
Tom's vision blurred as Kevin shifted above him, his spent cock slipping free with a wet sound that made Tom's ears burn. The mess between his thighs was obscene—hot cum dripping down his ass onto the heated stone beneath them—but before he could catch his breath, Kevin was climbing onto his lap, straddling him with fluid grace.
Tom's cock twitched against Kevin's thigh, the oil was still warm when Kevin poured it over Tom's cock, the slick glide of his fist making Tom's hips jerk upward. Kevin's grin turned wicked as he lifted himself up, guiding Tom's tip to his entrance. Tom's breath hitched as Kevin sank down inch by torturous inch, the tight heat swallowing him whole.
"Jesus fuck—" Tom gasped, his hands flying to Kevin's hips, fingers digging into the firm muscle there. Kevin's body was a furnace around him, clenching rhythmically as he adjusted, his own cock half-hard against his stomach. The stretch had to be brutal—Tom wasn't small—but Kevin didn't hesitate, rolling his hips in slow, deliberate circles until Tom was fully sheathed inside him.
Kevin braced his hands on Tom's chest, his back arching as he lifted himself almost all the way off before dropping back down with a wet slap. Tom's vision whited out for a second, his grip tightening as Kevin set a relentless pace, riding him with the same precision he'd used to work the knots from Tom's shoulders. Each downward thrust punched the air from Tom's lungs, his cock throbbing inside the tight heat.
"I love your cock," Kevin growled, his voice rough with pleasure. His fingers traced the barbed wire tattoo on Tom's bicep, his hips never slowing. "Bet you never thought you'd be here, huh? Getting ridden by some guy in a massage parlour." The words were a taunt, but his eyes were dark with approval as Tom's hips jerked upward to meet his movements.
Tom couldn't answer—couldn't do anything but feel as Kevin's body milked him, the slick slide of skin on skin drowning out coherent thought. His balls tightened, the pressure coiling low in his gut with every snap of Kevin's hips. The man knew exactly how to move—angling himself just right to drag Tom's cock over that sweet spot inside him, wringing ragged moans from both their throats.
Kevin's rhythm stuttered as he reached between them, fisting his own cock with rough, jerky strokes. Tom could feel the way his body clenched around him, could see the pleasure tightening Kevin's expression as he fucked himself down onto Tom's cock with abandon. The sight was obscene—Kevin's thighs flexing, his abs tensing, his mouth falling open on a silent groan as he chased his own release.
"Fuck—" Tom gasped, his hands scrambling for purchase on Kevin's hips, fingers digging into the firm muscle there. He was close—so close—his orgasm building like a storm at the base of his spine. Kevin's pace was relentless, his body hot and tight around him, the wet slap of skin echoing off the stone walls.
Kevin leaned forward, his breath hot against Tom's ear. "Come on," he urged, his voice rough with need. "Fill me up." The words sent a jolt through Tom, his hips jerking upward as Kevin clenched around him, milking him with practiced precision. Tom's vision whited out, his back arching off the table as pleasure detonated through him, his cock pulsing deep inside Kevin with a force that left him shaking.
Kevin groaned, his body tightening around Tom's cock as he spilled over his own fist, his cum streaking across Tom's chest in hot, sticky ropes. His hips stuttered, riding Tom through both their orgasms until the pleasure bordered on pain, the overstimulation wringing a broken noise from Tom's throat.
For a long moment, they stayed like that—Kevin slumped forward, his forehead resting against Tom's shoulder, their breath mingling in the humid air. Tom could feel the weight of Kevin's body pressing him into the table, the heat of his skin searing where they touched. His cock twitched inside Kevin, still half-hard despite the mind-melting orgasm moments earlier.
Kevin chuckled, low and breathless, his lips brushing Tom's collarbone as he spoke. "You're full of surprises," he murmured, "Most guys are done after one round."
Tom swallowed hard, his throat dry. Kevin was right, he would normally need some recovery time, but he could feel his cock already growing, still inside the sweaty masseuse.
Kevin's hands slid up Tom's chest, fingers splaying across his sweat-slick pecs as he lifted himself off Tom's cock with a slow, torturous drag. Tom hissed through his teeth at the loss—his body still humming with leftover pleasure, his cock twitching against his stomach—but before he could protest, Kevin was moving up the table, his knees straddling Tom's shoulders. The shift was fluid, practiced, Kevin's cock—still flushed and wet from Tom's earlier release—hovering inches from his lips.
Tom didn't hesitate. He craned his neck forward, capturing the head between his lips with a groan. The taste was musky, salty, Kevin's skin warm against his tongue. Kevin's fingers ran over Tom's shaved head, guiding him deeper, and Tom let him, his mouth opening wider as Kevin slid past his lips. The stretch was familiar now, the rhythm easier—Tom's tongue curling around the shaft as Kevin rocked forward, his hips moving in shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—" Kevin gasped, his grip tightening on Tom's head. "You suck cock so well." The words sent a fresh wave of heat through Tom, his cock jerking against his stomach, still wet with their combined release. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking harder, and Kevin groaned, his hips stuttering. "I'm close—" Kevin's voice cracked, his thighs trembling against Tom's shoulders. "Gonna cum in your mouth."
Tom's only answer was to suck harder, his lips sealed tight around Kevin's cock as the first pulse hit the back of his throat. The taste was sharper this time, hotter, flooding his mouth in thick spurts. Tom swallowed reflexively, his throat working around Kevin's cock as the man shuddered above him, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Kevin's fingers tightened almost painfully on Tom's head, holding him in place as he emptied himself, his hips jerking with each pulse.
"Jesus—" Kevin panted, his cock twitching against Tom's tongue as he pulled back slightly, still half-hard. Tom licked his lips, chasing the last drops, his own cock throbbing against his stomach, aching for friction. Kevin chuckled breathlessly, his thumb brushing Tom's lower lip. "Swallow every drop"
Before Tom could respond, Kevin was moving again, sliding back down Tom's body with fluid grace. Tom's breath hitched as Kevin straddled his hips, his ass still slick with Tom's earlier release. Kevin reached behind himself, guiding Tom's cock back into his body with a slow, deliberate press that made Tom groan. The heat was overwhelming—Kevin's body clenching around him, still loose but tight enough to wring another ragged noise from Tom's chest.
"Fuck—" Tom gasped, his hands flying to Kevin's hips, fingers digging into the firm muscle there. Kevin rolled his hips experimentally, his breath hitching as Tom's cock dragged against his sensitive walls. The movement was slow at first, almost lazy, but then Kevin dropped down hard, and Tom saw stars.
It only took seconds before Tom's orgasm hit him like a freight train—his back arching off the table, his hips jerking upward as pleasure exploded through him in hot, pulsing waves. Kevin groaned, his body tightening around Tom's cock as he milked him dry for the second time, his own cock twitching against his stomach untouched. The overstimulation was brutal, electric, wringing a broken noise from Tom's throat as Kevin rode him through it, his movements growing slower, more deliberate until Tom was shuddering beneath him, oversensitive and spent.
For a moment, they stayed like that—Kevin slumped forward, his forehead resting against Tom's collarbone, their breath mingling in the humid air. Tom could feel the weight of Kevin's body pressing him into the table, the heat of his skin searing where they touched. His cock twitched inside Kevin.
Finally Kevin climbed off him and Tom made his way to the showers. In a daze he found himself out on the street, wondering what had happened, it had been so surreal, so intense. He also realised for the first time that his back felt great!
He messaged Harry, thanking him for the recommendation - then he made another appointment for the following week. |
