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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought concern 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 tension that even his foam roller at home could not work out. 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 prefer a male or a female? 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 suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?
No preference, is what he normally said. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his unusual reaction over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to discover her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide the reality 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 client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal hygiene appeared to be good which he had good skin. 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 room, giving 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 element of the massage; his other senses almost disappear, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat much faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't 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 satisfaction that directly opposed the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she noticed she could 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 might have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, 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 sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Meanwhile, Alan attempted to envision a more total picture of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally emitted offered an unrefined type of sonar in his pitch-black world. He felt a gentle wave of heat when she took a step towards the front or back of the table. He imagined 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. When Ally sat on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck, he imagined her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan observed it at the exact same time. Alan was totally put up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to make out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Possibly 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. At this minute, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest to the location 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 half an hour had been ample preparation. She was ready, ideal then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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