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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 carry their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home might 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 prefer a male or a woman? 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 stated he chose a woman, 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 delighted ending?
No choice, is what he usually said. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he told the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he struck the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his odd reaction 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 uniform 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 stated.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his individual health appeared to be good and that he had excellent skin, she was thankful. 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 space, 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 slipped away into darkness. Alan enjoyed this aspect of the massage; his other senses nearly disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its sensations. He discovered 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 began to beat faster. Unusual, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not make certain. The fragrance was sweet and mild. 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 pictured her warmth as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't help but imagine 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, soothing pleasure that directly opposed the stimulation that had actually 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 could have ever said. Ally was strongly brought in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she discharged a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly raspy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something scrumptious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Eliminating a little the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she attracted her mind. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his calves, hamstrings, and inner-thighs, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands informed. Alan tried to picture a more total photo of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off supplied an unrefined type of finder in his pitch-black world.
When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He could determine the length of her arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung simply above his spine. 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. He imagined her not in the nurse's scrubs that she used, but 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. 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 raised the sheet to make it much easier for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was completely erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was awfully ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't know what to state. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the space. He heard of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Possibly that's what she will 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 minute, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She wanted 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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