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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 may bring their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house could not exercise. He disliked their question almost 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 guy or a lady? 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 preferred a lady, did it imply he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?
No preference, is what he generally said. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his strange response over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to discover her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent 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.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal health seemed to be great which he had great 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 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 escaped into darkness. Alan enjoyed this element of the massage; his other senses almost disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered 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 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 fragrance 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 heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not think of but help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, calming enjoyment that straight opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more attractive than anything Alan might have ever said. Alan heard it. 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. Eliminating a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to imagine a more total picture of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off provided a crude kind of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of heat when she took a step 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. Therefore it went by doing this for half an hour. It was time for her to massage his chest, arms, and quadriceps. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. She lifted the sheet to make it simpler for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan discovered it at the same time. Alan was completely put up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's reaction. 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. Perhaps that's what she will 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. However at this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their way from her chest down to the location listed below her navel. She wanted Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, without any foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had actually been ample preparation. She was ready, ideal then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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