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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 carry their stress 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 disliked their concern almost as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had said to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a male or a female? 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 chose a woman, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?
No preference, is what he generally stated. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he hit the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his unusual reaction over the phone until now, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to discover her; small 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 stated.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene appeared to be good and that he had good skin, she was pleased. And when she shook his strong hand and gazed 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 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 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 steps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make certain. The aroma was mild and sweet. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan could feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he envisioned her warmth as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't think of but help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, soothing satisfaction that directly contradicted the stimulation that had started in his loins), she observed she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more attractive than anything Alan might 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. Getting rid of 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. Meanwhile, Alan attempted to envision a more total photo of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally emitted provided a crude type of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of heat when she took a step towards the front or back of the table. 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 imagined 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 noticed it at the very same time. Alan was totally erect. It raised the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He heard of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a client's groin in scenarios like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Below her, Alan's cock grabbed her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other customer, she would have been horrified, disgusted. She would have begrudgingly ended up the massage, keeping her distance from his crotch. At this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement 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 prepared to have sex.
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