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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought worry upon himself, and while others may bring their stress in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home might not exercise. He hated their concern nearly as much as the expression that every masseuse he had ever had said 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 duplicated. If he said he preferred a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a lady, did it imply he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who expected a pleased ending?
No preference, is what he typically stated. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told 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 action over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform 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 stated.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal hygiene appeared to be excellent which he had good 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 room, giving him 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 aspect of the massage; his other senses nearly vanish, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its sensations. He found it to be deeply meditative. However when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally returning in, his heart began to beat much faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't help but picture 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, relaxing enjoyment that directly opposed the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she saw she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was just him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever stated. Ally was strongly attracted to her client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she let out a quiet chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly raspy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something delicious. 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. Removing a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan attempted to imagine a more complete image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally produced offered an unrefined type of sonar in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of warmth when she took an action 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 could gauge the length of her upper arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung just above his spine. When Ally rested on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He imagined 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 prior to following the collar bone to her sternum. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan noticed it at the very same time. Alan was fully put up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't know what to state. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in scenarios like these. Perhaps that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She desired Alan. She discovered that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was prepared to have sex.
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