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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 tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles often were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house could not work out. He hated their question almost 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 guy or a female? 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 sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who anticipated a pleased ending?
No preference, is what he usually said. Often, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he struck the fitness center, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his unusual response over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, delicately seductive voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to find her; petite yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't conceal the truth 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.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. When she saw his individual hygiene seemed to be good and that he had great 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 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, giving 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 slipped away into darkness. Alan enjoyed this element of the massage; his other senses almost disappear, leaving him with a severe awareness of his body and its feelings. He found it to be deeply meditative. But when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft steps of Ally returning in, his heart started to beat faster. Uncommon, Alan thought. He was supposed to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not envision but help Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face simply as close to her pubis. As Ally worked for her turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing satisfaction that directly opposed the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she discovered she might 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 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. Eliminating 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. Meanwhile, Alan attempted to picture a more total picture of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off provided an unrefined kind of sonar in his pitch-black world. When she took an action towards the front or back of the table, he felt a mild wave of warmth. He envisioned 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 began to knead his neck, he imagined 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 saw it at the same time. Alan was completely set 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 attempt to construct Ally's reaction. He didn't know what to say. Then, he heard her walk away, to the corner of the room. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in situations like these. Perhaps that's what she will do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. At this minute, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest to the location below her navel. She wanted Alan. She found that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to make love. The last thirty minutes had actually been ample preparation. She was ready, best then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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