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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 might bring their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house could not work out. He disliked their question almost 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 choose a woman or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he stated he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a woman, did it imply he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who anticipated a delighted ending?
No preference, is what he generally said. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he hit the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his strange action over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide 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 stated.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his individual hygiene appeared to be good and that he had great 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 personal 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 aspect of the massage; his other senses almost 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 footsteps of Ally returning in, his heart started to beat quicker. Uncommon, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not make certain. The scent 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 pictured her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not assist but envision 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, soothing enjoyment that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she observed she could smell him. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever said. Ally was highly drawn in to her client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she blurted a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly raspy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something scrumptious. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan believed, 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 attempted to envision a more complete picture of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off supplied an unrefined 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 began to knead his neck, he imagined her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Therefore it went by doing this 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 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 completely erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was extremely embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to construct Ally's response. He didn't know what to state. Then, he heard her leave, 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. Maybe that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to 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 minute, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. She desired Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was prepared to have sex.
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