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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for several 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 frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home might not work out. He hated their concern nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had said to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you choose a man or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he preferred a male, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a female, did it suggest he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who expected a pleased ending?
No choice, is what he normally stated. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he told the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that come from? he wondered. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his odd response over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to find her; small 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.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. When she saw his personal health seemed to be good and that he had excellent 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 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 room, 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 acute awareness of his body and its sensations. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. However 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 believed. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not help but think of Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, calming enjoyment that straight contradicted the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. Ally was highly attracted 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 sounded like tasting something tasty. 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. Removing a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Alan attempted to think of a more total picture of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off offered an unrefined kind of finder in his pitch-black world. When she took a step towards the front or back of the table, he felt a gentle wave of heat. He imagined her hips, her smooth stomach 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 started to knead his neck, he pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. 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 simpler for him. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet pull back, she and Alan discovered it at the same time. Alan was fully set up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was terribly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to construct Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He became aware of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in situations like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. But at this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest down to the place listed below her navel. She wanted Alan. She discovered that, for the very 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 more than enough preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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