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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought worry 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 could not exercise. He disliked their concern almost 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 female or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a woman, did it indicate 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 normally said. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his unusual 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 publication to find her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the reality 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. When she saw his personal hygiene appeared to be excellent and that he had good 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 space, offering 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 vanish, 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 much faster. Uncommon, Alan believed. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't assist but think of 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, soothing satisfaction that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was just him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Eliminating a bit of 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, as her thumbs dug into his calves, hamstrings, and inner-thighs, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands notified. Alan tried to envision a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally emitted offered an unrefined type of sonar in his pitch-black world. When she took a step towards the front or back of the table, he felt a gentle wave of heat. He imagined her hips, her smooth tummy and her toned waist above.
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 imagined 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 raised the sheet to make it simpler for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was fully erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's response. He didn't know what to say. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Possibly that's what she will do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed below her, Alan's cock reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other customer, she would have been horrified, revolted. She would have begrudgingly ended up the massage, keeping her distance from his crotch. However 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 place listed below her navel. She desired Alan. She discovered that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, without any foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had actually been more than enough preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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