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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 tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home might not exercise. He disliked their question almost as much as the expression that every masseuse he had ever had stated to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a female or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he chose a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a female, did it suggest 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 happy ending?
No preference, is what he usually stated. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his unusual reaction over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, 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 truth 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 stated.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal hygiene seemed to be excellent and that 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, giving him 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 almost 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 began to beat much faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't assist however 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, calming satisfaction that straight opposed the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she noticed she might smell him. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Eliminating a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his hamstrings, calves, and inner-thighs, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands notified. On the other hand, Alan attempted to envision a more complete image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally produced supplied a crude kind 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 warmth. 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. When Ally sat on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he imagined 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 completely set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely 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 state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in scenarios like these. Perhaps that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Below her, Alan's cock grabbed her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other client, she would have been horrified, revolted. She would have begrudgingly ended up the massage, keeping her range from his crotch. At this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. She desired Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was all set to have sex.
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