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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 may carry their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home could not work out. He hated their question nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had said to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you prefer a woman or a male? 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 indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a happy ending?
No choice, is what he typically said. Sometimes, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his weird action over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't conceal 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene seemed to be great and that he had excellent skin, she was glad. 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 personal privacy to disrobe and crawl under the sheet. With his head in the massage table's cradle, his eyes closed, Alan's world escaped 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. But when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't help but envision 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 enjoyment that straight opposed the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. Ally was strongly brought in to her customer. 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 delicious. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Getting rid of a little the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Later, as her thumbs went into his calves, inner-thighs, and hamstrings, she pictured the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. Alan attempted to picture a more total picture of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off supplied a crude type of sonar in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of heat when she took an action towards the front or back of the table. He envisioned her hips, her smooth belly and her toned waist above.
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 envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. And so it went this way 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 back down, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was completely erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly 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 space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile 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 frozen. Below her, Alan's cock reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment 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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