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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 carry their stress in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in your home could not exercise. He disliked their concern nearly 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 female or a male? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he preferred a guy, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he preferred a woman, did it suggest he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it suggest he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?

No preference, is what he usually stated. In some cases, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he told the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten about his odd reaction over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his magazine to discover her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the truth 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. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, aroused him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.

Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his individual health seemed to be great and that he had good skin, she was glad. 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 room, offering 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 almost 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 faster. Uncommon, 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 imagine however help 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, relaxing satisfaction that straight opposed the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she observed she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was just him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, I am insanely smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands acted as her eyes. Getting rid of a little 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. Later on, as her thumbs dug into his inner-thighs, calves, and hamstrings, she pictured the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands informed. Alan tried to imagine a more complete image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally provided off provided an unrefined type of sonar in his pitch-black world.

When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He might evaluate the length of her arm, and he imagined the perky breasts that hung just above his spinal column. He pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke when Ally sat on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck. He envisioned her not in the nurse's scrubs that she used, however 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. Therefore it went in this manner 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 saw it at the same time. Alan was completely erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a camping tent. Alan was extremely 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 scenarios like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her excitement and shortness of breath. She wanted Alan. She found 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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