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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 carry their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house 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 choose a man or a female? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he stated he preferred a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a woman, did it imply he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who expected a happy ending?
No preference, is what he normally said. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he struck the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his unusual action over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide 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 client of the day. She was glad when she saw his individual hygiene appeared to be great and that he had excellent skin. And when she shook his strong hand and gazed 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 space, giving 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 feelings. He discovered 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. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't help however envision Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing satisfaction that straight opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Removing a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Meanwhile, Alan tried to picture a more total image of the body connected to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally gave off provided a crude type of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a gentle wave of heat when she took an action towards the front or back of the table. He pictured 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. 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 discovered it at the exact same time. Alan was fully erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was awfully ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't know what to state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Perhaps that's what she will 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 perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest down to the location 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 make love. The last half an hour had actually been sufficient preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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