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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 work out. He disliked their question nearly as much as the expression that every masseuse he had ever had said to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you prefer a lady or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he chose a lady, did it imply he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who expected a pleased ending?
No preference, is what he generally said. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his odd action over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to find her; small yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't hide the truth that she kept herself fit. 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. It sounded as if she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. When she saw his personal hygiene seemed to be good and that he had excellent skin, she was pleased. And when she shook his strong hand and gazed 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 personal 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 an intense awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart began to beat faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not envision but assist 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, relaxing enjoyment that straight opposed the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she observed she could smell him. It was merely him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever said. Ally was highly drawn in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she blurted a quiet chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly raspy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something scrumptious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Removing a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to think of a more total image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off supplied a crude type of sonar in his pitch-black world.
When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. When Ally sat on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. And so it went in this manner for half an hour. It was time for her to massage his chest, arms, and quadriceps. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. She lifted the sheet to make it easier for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was totally erect. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was awfully embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in scenarios like these. Possibly that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. 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 excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their method from her chest down to the location below her navel. She wanted Alan. She found that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, without any foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had been more than enough preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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