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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others may carry their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house might not work out. He disliked their concern almost as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had said to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a man or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he preferred a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a female, 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 delighted ending?

No preference, is what he generally said. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he hit the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his strange reaction over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide 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. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, aroused 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 health seemed to be good and that he had excellent skin, she was delighted. And when she shook his strong hand and gazed 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 room, giving 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 aspect of the massage; his other senses nearly disappear, leaving him with an acute 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 began to beat faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not be sure. The scent was sweet and mild. 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 envisioned her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not picture however help 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, calming enjoyment that directly opposed the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was merely him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever stated. Ally was highly drawn in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she discharged a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly raspy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something tasty. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Getting rid of a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she attracted her mind. Later on, as her thumbs went into his hamstrings, inner-thighs, and calves, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands informed. On the other hand, Alan attempted to envision a more total picture of the body connected to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally emitted provided an unrefined type of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of heat when she took a step towards the front or back of the table. He visualized her hips, her smooth belly and her toned waist above.

When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He might assess the length of her upper arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung just above his spinal column. He envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck. He envisioned her not in the nurse's scrubs that she wore, but 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 before following the collar bone to her sternum. 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 actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan saw it at the same time. Alan was completely put up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was awfully embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to make out Ally's reaction. He didn't know what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in situations like these. Perhaps that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their method from her chest to the place below her navel. She desired 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 ample preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.

 

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