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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 carry their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in your home could not work out. 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 prefer a lady or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a female, did it indicate he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who anticipated a delighted ending?
No preference, is what he usually said. Sometimes, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he told the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he struck the gym, 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, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his publication to discover her; small yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't hide the fact 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 said. 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 health seemed to be excellent which he had excellent skin. And when she shook his strong hand and looked 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, providing him personal 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 almost 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 steps of Ally coming back in, his heart began to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't think of but assist 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 actually started in his loins), she saw she might smell him. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. 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 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 powerful figure she drew in her mind. Meanwhile, Alan attempted to imagine a more total image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off provided an unrefined type of finder 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 imagined 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 began to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. 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 discovered it at the very same time. Alan was fully erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was awfully ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's response. He didn't know what to say. 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 circumstances like these. Possibly that's what she will 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. With any other client, she would have been horrified, revolted. She would have begrudgingly completed the massage, keeping her distance from his crotch. At this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She wanted Alan. She found 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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