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Alan had gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought worry upon himself, and while others might bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in your home could not work out. He disliked their question 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 man or a lady? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he chose a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a woman, did it suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?

No preference, is what he typically said. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his odd response over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the reality 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 client of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene seemed to be excellent and that he had great skin, she was glad. 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, providing him personal privacy to disrobe and crawl 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 found it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat quicker. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't imagine however help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, calming pleasure that directly contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she discovered she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Removing a little the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later on, as her thumbs went into his calves, inner-thighs, and hamstrings, she thought of the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands notified. Alan tried to picture a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally provided off supplied a crude type of finder 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 started to knead his neck, he pictured 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. Run down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. She raised the sheet to make it easier for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was totally erect. It raised the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to construct out Ally's response. He didn't know what to state. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in situations like these. Possibly 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 grabbed her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other customer, she would have been horrified, revolted. She would have begrudgingly finished the massage, keeping her range from his crotch. However at this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their way from her chest to the place listed below her navel. She desired Alan. She found that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had actually been ample preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.

 

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