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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others may bring their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home might not exercise. He hated their concern nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had stated to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a female or a man? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a lady, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?
No choice, is what he normally said. Sometimes, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he hit the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his weird reaction over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't conceal the truth that she kept herself in shape. Her eyes were almond-shaped, her hair black, and her skin the colour of caramel. I'm Ally. I'll be your therapist today, she said.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his individual health appeared to be good and that he had excellent skin. And when she shook his strong hand and looked into his baby blue eyes, butterflies fluttered in her chest and the hair stood on the back of her neck. Ally led Alan to Room 5. She asked him to undress and lay face-down on the table. She left the space, offering him privacy to crawl and disrobe under the sheet. With his head in the massage table's cradle, his eyes closed, Alan's world escaped into darkness. Alan enjoyed this element of the massage; his other senses nearly disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. However when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat much faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't think of however help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, soothing enjoyment that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she saw she might smell him. It was merely him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever stated. Ally was highly brought in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she blurted a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly raspy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something delicious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Eliminating a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to picture a more complete photo of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally released offered an unrefined kind of sonar in his pitch-black world. He felt a gentle wave of warmth when she took a step towards the front or back of the table. He visualized her hips, her smooth stomach and her toned waist above.
When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He could assess the length of her upper arm, and he pictured the perky breasts that hung just above his spine. He envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck. He pictured her not in the nurse's scrubs that she wore, however in a deep-necked top that hung off one shoulder, exposing the line of her clavicle. In his mind, he saw a bead of sweat meander down her neck prior to following the collar bone to her sternum. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan saw it at the very same time. Alan was totally set up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to construct Ally's reaction. He didn't know what to say. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Maybe that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed below her, Alan's cock reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. But at this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their way from her chest to the place listed below her navel. She wanted Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex. The last half an hour had been more than enough preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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