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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought concern upon himself, and while others might bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of stress that even his foam roller in the house could not work out. He disliked their question almost as much as the expression that every masseuse he had ever had stated to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a male or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a woman, did it suggest he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a happy ending?
No choice, is what he usually said. Sometimes, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his weird response over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal 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.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal health appeared to be excellent and that he had good 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, providing him personal 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 element of the massage; his other senses almost vanish, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its sensations. He found it to be deeply meditative. However when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally returning in, his heart started to beat quicker. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan could not envision but help 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 satisfaction 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 perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was merely him and it was more attractive than anything Alan might have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered 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 little the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Later, as her thumbs went into his inner-thighs, calves, and hamstrings, she pictured the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. Alan tried to envision a more complete picture of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off offered 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 gauge the length of her upper arm, and he envisioned the perky breasts that hung just above his spine. 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. 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 breast bone. And so it went by doing this 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 raised the sheet to make it easier for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's response. He didn't know what to say. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the space. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in circumstances like these. Maybe 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 perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their method from her chest down to the place below her navel. She desired Alan. She found 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 half an hour had actually been ample preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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