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Alan had gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others may bring their stress in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house might not exercise. He disliked their question nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had stated to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a lady or a man? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he chose a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a lady, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who anticipated a delighted ending?
No preference, is what he typically stated. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he told the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his odd action 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 conceal 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 said. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, aroused him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene seemed to be good and that he had excellent skin, she was grateful. 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, 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 nearly disappear, leaving him with an intense 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 began to beat much faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not envision but assist Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, soothing pleasure that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she noticed she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't cologne, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, 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 gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she drew in her mind. On the other hand, Alan tried to think of a more complete photo of the body attached to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally gave off offered a crude kind of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of warmth when she took an action towards the front or back of the table. 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 could determine the length of her arm, and he pictured the perky breasts that hung simply above his spinal column. He imagined 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 prior to following the collar bone to her breast bone. Therefore it went this way 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 saw it at the same time. Alan was totally erect. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to try to construct Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick 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 found their way from her chest to the place below her navel. She desired Alan. She discovered that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, without any foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex. The last thirty minutes had actually been more than enough preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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