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Alan had actually 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 stress that even his foam roller at home could not exercise. He hated their concern 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 female or a man? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a lady, did it suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?
No preference, is what he generally stated. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he struck the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his weird action over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to discover her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal hygiene seemed to be great which he had good skin. And when she shook his strong hand and looked into his baby blue eyes, butterflies fluttered in her chest and the hair based 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 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 disappear, leaving him with an intense awareness of his body and its sensations. He found it to be deeply meditative. 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 supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not envision but help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing pleasure that straight contradicted the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was merely 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 outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Getting rid of a little 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 inner-thighs, calves, and hamstrings, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands informed. Alan tried to imagine a more complete image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally produced supplied an unrefined kind of finder in his pitch-black world. When she took an action towards the front or back of the table, he felt a mild wave of warmth. He pictured her hips, her smooth stomach and her toned waist above.
When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He might gauge the length of her arm, and he pictured the perky breasts that hung just above his spinal column. He pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck. He envisioned 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 prior to following the collar bone to her breast bone. Run down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was totally put up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Possibly that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this minute, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She wanted 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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