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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 carry their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller at home could not exercise. He hated their concern 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 choose a woman or a guy? 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 preferred a woman, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who expected a happy ending?
No preference, is what he typically said. Often, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he struck the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his strange 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; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent 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. She was glad when she saw his individual health appeared to be excellent 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, 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 almost vanish, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its sensations. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart started to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan could not assist but 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 directly contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she observed she could smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was simply him and it was more attractive than anything Alan might have ever stated. Alan heard it. The sound covered 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 little the sheet to work his lower back and excess, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later, as her thumbs dug into his calves, inner-thighs, and hamstrings, she thought of the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands notified. Alan attempted to picture a more total picture of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally produced offered a crude type of finder in his pitch-black world. He felt a mild wave of heat when she took an action towards the front or back of the table. He visualized 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. He might assess the length of her upper arm, and he pictured the perky breasts that hung simply above his spinal column. He pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck. He pictured 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 prior to following the collar bone to her breast bone. And so it went by doing this 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 lifted the sheet to make it simpler for him. When he had moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan noticed it at the same time. Alan was completely erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was extremely embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to try to construct out Ally's reaction. He didn't know 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 circumstances like these. Perhaps that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed 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 found their method from her chest down to the location below her navel. She desired Alan. She discovered that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex. The last half an hour had actually been sufficient preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that minute pass.
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