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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others may carry their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller in your home might not exercise. He hated their concern almost as much as the expression that every masseuse he had ever had stated to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a lady or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he preferred a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he chose a lady, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who expected a happy ending?
No preference, is what he normally said. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan shocked 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 forgotten his unusual action over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually 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 fact 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his individual health seemed to be excellent which he had excellent skin. 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 space, giving 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 nearly disappear, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. However when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat quicker. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not be sure. The scent was sweet and moderate. 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 warmth as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't picture but assist Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing satisfaction that straight contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she observed 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 client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she let out a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly scratchy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something tasty. 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 little the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his inner-thighs, hamstrings, and calves, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands informed. Meanwhile, Alan attempted to imagine a more total picture of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally emitted provided a crude 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 envisioned 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 determine the length of her arm, and he thought of the perky breasts that hung just above his spinal column. When Ally rested on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He pictured her not in the nurse's scrubs that she used, but 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 breast bone. And so it went in this manner 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 easier for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was completely put up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to construct Ally's response. 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 customer's groin in scenarios like these. Possibly that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Below her, Alan's cock reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. She desired Alan. She discovered 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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