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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought worry upon himself, and while others may bring their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of stress 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 prefer a lady or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a lady, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?
No preference, is what he usually stated. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he told the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his strange action over the phone previously, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find her; small yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't conceal 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.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his individual hygiene appeared to be great which he had great skin. 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, providing him privacy to disrobe and crawl under the sheet. With his head in the massage table's cradle, his eyes closed, Alan's world slipped away into darkness. Alan enjoyed this aspect of the massage; his other senses nearly vanish, leaving him with an acute 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 steps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat faster. Unusual, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan could not think of however help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, calming pleasure that straight opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she noticed she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands acted as her eyes. Removing a little 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, as her thumbs dug into his calves, hamstrings, and inner-thighs, she thought of the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. Alan tried to think of a more total image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally provided off offered 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 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 saw it at the same time. Alan was totally put up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was awfully ashamed, 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. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a client's groin in circumstances like these. Perhaps that's what she will 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. However at this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their way 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, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex. The last half an hour had actually been ample preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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