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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 might carry their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home could not work out. He disliked their concern 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 woman or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a woman, did it suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?
No choice, is what he usually said. Sometimes, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his strange reaction over the phone until now, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't hide the truth 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. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. 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 personal hygiene seemed to be excellent 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 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 element of the massage; his other senses nearly disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its feelings. He found 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 faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't imagine but assist 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 started in his loins), she noticed she might smell him. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Getting rid of a little the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Later, as her thumbs dug into his inner-thighs, calves, and hamstrings, she pictured the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. On the other hand, Alan attempted to imagine a more total photo of the body connected to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally released offered an unrefined kind of sonar in his pitch-black world. When she took an action towards the front or back of the table, he felt a mild wave of heat. He envisioned her hips, her smooth stomach 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. And so it went by doing this 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 lifted the sheet to make it much easier for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan saw it at the same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had actually 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 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.
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