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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many years. He was a workaholic who brought worry 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 in your home could not work out. He disliked their question almost 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 choose a male or a lady? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he said he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a female, did it indicate he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?
No choice, is what he usually said. In some cases, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding 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 health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his unusual action over the phone until now, being in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his publication to find her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide the reality 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 personal hygiene appeared to be good and that he had good skin, she was pleased. 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 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 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 began to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan couldn't make sure. The scent was sweet and mild. 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 couldn't picture but help 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, soothing pleasure that directly opposed the stimulation that had started in his loins), she observed she could smell him. It was just him and it was more attractive than anything Alan could have ever said. Ally was highly brought in to her customer. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she blurted a peaceful chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly scratchy, even her laugh sounded like tasting something delicious. The sound wrapped 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 powerful figure she drew in her mind. Alan attempted to think of a more total picture of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally offered off offered an unrefined 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 began to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan observed it at the same time. Alan was fully erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was awfully ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to make out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a customer's groin in situations 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 moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest down to the location below her navel. She wanted Alan. She discovered that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last half an hour had been more than enough preparation. She was ready, ideal then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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