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Sensual Massage Parlours Bowling Alley GU10

 

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 stress in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home could not exercise. 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 prefer a female or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he chose a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a female, did it imply he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who anticipated a pleased ending?

No preference, is what he generally said. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his odd reaction over the phone until now, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to find her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the truth 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. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.

Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his personal health appeared to be good and that he had good skin, she was delighted. 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, 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 almost disappear, leaving him with an acute 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 steps of Ally coming back in, his heart began to beat faster. Unusual, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't be sure. The scent was sweet and mild. 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 could not help however picture 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 started in his loins), she saw she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was merely him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever stated. Ally was strongly drawn in to her client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she blurted a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Mildly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something delicious. The sound wrapped 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 powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan tried to picture a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off offered 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 imagined the perky breasts that hung simply above his spinal column. He envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck. He envisioned 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 sternum. 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 moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan saw 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 make out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He heard of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in scenarios like these. Maybe that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed 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 excitement and shortness of breath. She wanted Alan. She discovered that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex.

 

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