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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others may bring 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 work out. 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 prefer a guy or a female? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he preferred a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he chose a woman, 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 delighted ending?
No preference, is what he usually stated. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his strange response over the phone previously, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his publication to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal health seemed to be excellent 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 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 personal 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 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 started to beat much faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make sure. The scent was mild and sweet. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan might feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he pictured her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't think of but assist Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, soothing pleasure that straight opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she observed she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan believed, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Removing a little the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Later, as her thumbs went into his inner-thighs, hamstrings, and calves, she thought of the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands notified. Alan attempted to imagine a more complete photo of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally provided off supplied a crude type of finder 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 envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Run 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 saw it at the exact same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to try to construct out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to say. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He heard of masseuses who put a pile 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 frozen. Below her, Alan's cock grabbed her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other client, she would have been appalled, disgusted. She would have begrudgingly completed the massage, keeping her distance from his crotch. At this minute, 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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