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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 stress in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house might not exercise. He hated their question nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had stated to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a male or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he preferred a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a woman, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?
No preference, is what he typically stated. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he told the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his odd action over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his publication to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the truth 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.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene appeared to be good and that he had excellent skin, she was grateful. 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, offering him privacy to disrobe and crawl 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 nearly vanish, leaving him with a severe 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 steps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not assist but think of 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 enjoyment that directly opposed the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she noticed she might smell him. It was just him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever said. 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 served as her eyes. Removing 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. Alan attempted to envision a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off offered 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 started to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. And so it went this way 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 moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was totally put up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was awfully embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused 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 stack of towels on a client's groin in circumstances like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Below her, Alan's dick reached for 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 range from his crotch. However at this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their method from her chest down to the place below her navel. She desired Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex. The last thirty minutes had actually 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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