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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 carried his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house could not work out. He hated their concern nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had said 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 said he preferred a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a female, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who expected a happy ending?

No preference, is what he typically stated. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he told the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he struck the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his strange reaction 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 find her; small 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 stated.

Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. When she saw his individual health seemed to be excellent and that he had great skin, she was glad. 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 aspect of the massage; his other senses nearly vanish, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its sensations. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. However when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally returning in, his heart began to beat much faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not be sure. The scent was sweet and moderate. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan could feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he pictured her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan couldn't think of but assist 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, calming satisfaction that directly contradicted the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she discovered she could smell him. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, 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 excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to picture a more complete image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off supplied a crude type of sonar 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 arm, and he thought of 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 imagined her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He envisioned 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. 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 actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was totally erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in circumstances like these. Maybe 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. But at this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their way 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, with no 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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