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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 may bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home could not work out. He disliked 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 choose a woman or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he stated he chose a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a lady, did it suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who anticipated a pleased ending?
No preference, is what he normally stated. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he hit the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his weird action over the phone previously, sitting 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 consistent scrubs didn't conceal 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 stated. It sounded as if she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his individual health seemed to be good and that he had excellent skin, she was happy. 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 crawl and disrobe 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 almost vanish, 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 quicker. Uncommon, Alan believed. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not make sure. The fragrance 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 envisioned her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not imagine however 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, relaxing satisfaction that straight opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever said. Ally was highly attracted to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she blurted a quiet chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly raspy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something delicious. 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 gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to think of a more complete photo of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off supplied an unrefined 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 started to knead his neck, he imagined 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. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. She lifted the sheet to make it easier for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was completely set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to make out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Perhaps that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Listed below her, Alan's cock 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 desired Alan. She found 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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