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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others might bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home could not exercise. He disliked their question nearly 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 male or a lady? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a woman, did it suggest 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 pleased ending?
No preference, is what he usually stated. Often, he would include, 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 health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his strange response over the phone until now, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the reality 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. It sounded as if she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his individual health seemed to be good which he had good 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, offering 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 vanish, leaving him with an intense awareness of his body and its sensations. He found 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 began to beat faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make certain. The aroma was sweet and mild. 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 could not assist however imagine Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing pleasure that straight opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she observed she might smell him. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands worked as her eyes. Getting rid of a little bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his hamstrings, calves, and inner-thighs, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands informed. Meanwhile, Alan tried to think of a more complete image of the body connected to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally released offered an unrefined type of sonar in his pitch-black world. When she took a step towards the front or back of the table, he felt a gentle wave of heat. 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 gauge the length of her upper arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung just above his spine. He envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck. He pictured her not in the nurse's scrubs that she wore, however 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 before following the collar bone to her sternum. And so it went in this manner 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 actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was fully erect. It raised the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's reaction. He didn't know what to state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in situations 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. But at this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest down to the place below her navel. She desired Alan. She found that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, without any foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had been sufficient preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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