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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others might carry their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home could not work out. He disliked 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 lady or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he stated he chose a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a woman, did it imply he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who anticipated a pleased ending?

No preference, is what he generally stated. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his weird response over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to find her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide the fact 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. 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 health appeared to be excellent and that he had excellent skin, she was happy. And when she shook his strong hand and looked into his baby blue eyes, butterflies fluttered in her chest and the hair based 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 acute awareness of his body and its sensations. He found it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not be sure. The aroma was mild and sweet. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan could feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he imagined her warmth as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't assist but picture Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing pleasure that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. It was merely him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever said. Ally was strongly attracted to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she discharged a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something tasty. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands acted as her eyes. Eliminating a little the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his hamstrings, inner-thighs, and calves, she thought of the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands notified. Alan attempted to imagine a more total photo of the body connected 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 began to knead his neck, he pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. 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 discovered it at the very same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to state. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile 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. Below her, Alan's dick 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 found their method from her chest to the location 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 half an hour had actually been more than enough preparation. She was ready, ideal then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.

 

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