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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for several 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 frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller in the house could not exercise. 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 man or a female? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he preferred a lady, did it imply he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who anticipated a pleased ending?
No preference, is what he usually stated. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he hit the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his odd response over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to find her; small yet well proportioned, her uniform 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his personal hygiene seemed to be great and that he had great skin, she was grateful. 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, providing 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 almost disappear, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its sensations. 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 faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make sure. The fragrance 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 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 hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, calming enjoyment that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she noticed she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was just him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Getting rid of 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. Later on, as her thumbs went into his calves, inner-thighs, and hamstrings, she envisioned the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. Alan attempted to think of a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off offered a crude type of finder 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 envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Run down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was completely erect. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to state. Then, 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. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Below her, Alan's dick 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 very first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was all set to have sex.
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