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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others may bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house might not work out. He hated their question almost 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 prefer a female or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he preferred a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a female, did it imply 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 happy ending?
No preference, is what he generally said. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he struck the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his weird reaction over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to find her; small yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't hide 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. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene seemed to be great and that he had good skin, she was grateful. 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, 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 slipped away into darkness. Alan enjoyed this aspect of the massage; his other senses almost disappear, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its sensations. 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, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make certain. The scent was sweet and mild. 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 imagined her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't assist but imagine 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 satisfaction that straight contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more attractive than anything Alan might have ever said. Ally was highly brought in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she let out a quiet chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something scrumptious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely 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. On the other hand, Alan tried to picture a more total photo of the body attached to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally emitted offered an unrefined kind of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of warmth when she took a step towards the front or back of the table. He pictured her hips, her smooth tummy and her toned waist above.
When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He could gauge the length of her arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung simply above his spinal column. 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. 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 before following the collar bone to her sternum. Run 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 saw it at the very same time. Alan was completely put up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Possibly that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other customer, she would have been appalled, revolted. She would have begrudgingly ended up the massage, keeping her distance from his crotch. However at this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their method from her chest down to the place below her navel. She wanted Alan. She discovered 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 been ample preparation. She was ready, ideal then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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