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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others might carry their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home might not work out. He hated their question 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 prefer a man or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he chose a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose 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 anticipated a delighted ending?
No choice, is what he normally said. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A woman, 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 his unusual response over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide the fact 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. It sounded as if she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel. Her voice, alone, aroused him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.
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 excellent skin. 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, 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 element of the massage; his other senses nearly disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its sensations. He found it to be deeply meditative. But when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally returning in, his heart started to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't picture but 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, soothing satisfaction that straight contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she observed she could smell him. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever stated. Ally was highly attracted to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she let out a quiet chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something delicious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously 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 excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to think of a more complete image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off offered an unrefined 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 started to knead his neck, he pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Therefore it went in this manner for half an hour. It was time for her to massage his chest, arms, and quadriceps. Run 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 noticed it at the same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was awfully embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct Ally's response. He didn't know what to say. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Maybe 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. But at this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest down to the place below her navel. She wanted Alan. She discovered 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 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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