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Alan had 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 carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of stress that even his foam roller at home could 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 prefer a man or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone duplicated. If he stated he chose a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he chose a woman, 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 happy ending?
No choice, is what he usually said. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he struck the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his strange response over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her uniform 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. 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. She was glad when she saw his individual health seemed to be excellent which he had great 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 space, providing him 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 aspect of the massage; his other senses almost vanish, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. But when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally coming back in, his heart began to beat quicker. Uncommon, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan could not 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, calming satisfaction that straight opposed the stimulation that had actually begun in his loins), she discovered she could smell him. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan could have ever said. Alan heard it. 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. 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 drew in her mind. Alan attempted to picture a more complete 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. When Ally sat on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Run 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 discovered it at the same time. Alan was totally put up. It raised the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was terribly ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to try to construct Ally's response. He didn't understand what to state. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He became aware of masseuses who put a pile of towels on a client'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. However at this moment, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. The butterflies found their method from her chest to the location 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 more than enough preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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