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Alan had gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others might bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house could not exercise. He hated their question 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 man or a lady? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he chose a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a female, did it imply 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 pleased ending?
No choice, is what he normally said. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his strange reaction over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find 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 stated.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal hygiene appeared 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 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, giving 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 nearly vanish, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its sensations. He found it to be deeply meditative. But when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally returning in, his heart started to beat quicker. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan could not help but picture Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing satisfaction that straight contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she noticed she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever stated. Ally was highly drawn in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she let out a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something scrumptious. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, 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 sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to think of a more total image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered 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. He might assess the length of her arm, and he thought of the perky breasts that hung just above his spine. When Ally rested on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he imagined her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He imagined her not in the nurse's scrubs that she wore, however in a deep-necked top that hung off one shoulder, exposing the line of her clavicle. In his mind, he saw a bead of sweat meander down her neck prior to following the collar bone to her sternum. And so 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 raised the sheet to make it easier for him. When he had 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 awfully ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to try to construct Ally's reaction. He didn't know what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He heard of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in situations like these. Maybe that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this minute, 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 prepared to have sex.
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