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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 frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home could not work out. He disliked their concern nearly 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 prefer a man or a lady? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a woman, did it indicate 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 preference, is what he usually said. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he told the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he hit the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his unusual response over the phone until now, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform scrubs didn't conceal the fact 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 stated. It sounded as if she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel. 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 appeared to be excellent and that he had great 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 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, offering 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 disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. But 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 expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make certain. The scent was mild and sweet. 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 imagined her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not help however imagine 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, soothing enjoyment that straight contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she saw she could smell him. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever stated. Ally was highly attracted to her client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she discharged a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something delicious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands functioned as her eyes. Removing a little bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she attracted her mind. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his calves, inner-thighs, and hamstrings, she envisioned the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. Meanwhile, Alan attempted to imagine a more complete image of the body attached to the hands that dealt with him. The heat Ally gave off offered an unrefined kind of sonar in his pitch-black world. When she took a step towards the front or back of the table, he felt a gentle wave of warmth. He visualized 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. He might determine the length of her arm, and he envisioned 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 envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He pictured 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 prior to following the collar bone to her breast bone. And so 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 raised the sheet to make it much easier for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was completely put up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's reaction. He didn't know what to say. 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 scenarios like these. Maybe that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick grabbed her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other customer, she would have been horrified, disgusted. She would have begrudgingly completed the massage, keeping her range from his crotch. However 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 location listed 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 make love. The last thirty minutes had actually been sufficient preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.

 

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