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Sensual Massage Parlours Bedingfield Street IP23

 

Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought worry upon himself, and while others might bring their stress in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of stress that even his foam roller in the house might not exercise. He disliked their concern 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 man or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he preferred a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a female, did it imply he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?

No preference, is what he usually stated. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his odd response 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 publication to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide the reality 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. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, aroused him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.

Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal health appeared to be good and that he had good skin. 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 slipped away into darkness. Alan enjoyed this element of the massage; his other senses almost disappear, leaving him with an intense 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 footsteps 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 could not make certain. The scent was sweet and moderate. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan might feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he envisioned her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't imagine but help 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 pleasure that directly contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she observed she might smell him. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever stated. Ally was strongly attracted to her client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she let out a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly raspy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something tasty. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Eliminating 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. Alan tried to envision a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off provided a crude type of sonar 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 pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. 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 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 try to make out Ally's response. He didn't know what to state. 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. Possibly that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed 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 first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex.

 

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