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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought worry upon himself, and while others might bring their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home might not work out. He hated 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 prefer a guy 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 said he preferred a female, did it indicate he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?

No preference, is what he typically said. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he told the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his unusual action over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't hide the reality 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. It sounded as if she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.

Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his personal hygiene appeared to be great and that he had good skin, she was thankful. 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 room, providing 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 almost 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 thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan could not think of however assist Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing satisfaction that directly opposed the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she saw she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, 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 outrageously 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 powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan attempted to picture a more complete image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally released offered a crude kind of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a gentle wave of warmth when she took an action towards the front or back of the table. He visualized her hips, her smooth belly and her toned waist above.

When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He could evaluate the length of her upper arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung just above his spinal column. When Ally rested on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he imagined 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. And so it went in this manner for half an hour. It was time for her to massage his chest, arms, and quadriceps. Run down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. She lifted the sheet to make it much easier for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan saw it at the same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to make out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Perhaps that's what she will 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 moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She desired Alan. She discovered that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was all set to have sex.

 

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