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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 may bring their stress in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home might not exercise. He disliked their question almost 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 choose a woman or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he chose a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he chose a lady, did it suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a pleased ending?
No choice, is what he normally stated. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he informed the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his weird reaction over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to discover her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the truth 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 customer of the day. When she saw his personal hygiene seemed to be great and that he had excellent skin, she was grateful. And when she shook his strong hand and looked into his baby blue eyes, butterflies fluttered in her chest and the hair stood 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 escaped into darkness. Alan enjoyed this aspect of the massage; his other senses nearly disappear, leaving him with an intense awareness of his body and its feelings. He found it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not make certain. The scent was moderate and sweet. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan might feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he envisioned her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not assist but envision Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, calming pleasure that straight contradicted the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she observed she could smell him. It was simply him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands acted as her eyes. Getting rid of a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later, as her thumbs went into his hamstrings, inner-thighs, and calves, she envisioned the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands notified. Alan attempted to imagine a more complete photo of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off provided a crude type of finder in his pitch-black world.
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 started to knead his neck, he imagined her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Therefore it went by doing this 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 lifted the sheet to make it much easier for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan discovered it at the same time. Alan was totally set 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 attempt to make out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to state. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the room. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Perhaps that's what she will do, he hoped. Prior to 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 excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their way from her chest to the place listed below her navel. She wanted Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, without any foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had been more than enough preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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