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Alan had actually gone to massage therapists for many 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 stress that even his foam roller in your home could not work out. He hated 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 prefer a male or a woman? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he said he chose a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he said he chose a woman, did it suggest he was a creep who found some thing sexually sensuous in his deep-tissue massages? Did it imply he was a fool who expected a delighted ending?
No choice, is what he usually said. Often, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan amazed himself today when he informed the receptionist, A woman, please. Where did that come from? he questioned. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had ignored his odd response over the phone until now, being in the waiting room, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his publication to discover 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last customer of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal hygiene 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 space, providing him personal privacy to crawl and disrobe 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 vanish, 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 started to beat much faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was expected to melt, much deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan couldn't be sure. Alan could feel her heat on him. Alan couldn't 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 turn over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing enjoyment that straight opposed the stimulation that had actually started in his loins), she discovered she might smell him. And she liked it. It wasn't perfume, it wasn't aftershave. It was merely him and it was more attractive than anything Alan might have ever said. Alan heard it. The sound covered itself around him and Alan thought, 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 gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later, as her thumbs went into his hamstrings, inner-thighs, and calves, she imagined the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit location. She liked what her hands informed. On the other hand, Alan tried to envision a more total image of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally produced supplied 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 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. When Ally sat on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. Scoot 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 noticed it at the very same time. Alan was fully erect. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely embarrassed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to make out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to say. He heard her walk away, to the corner of the space. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a client's groin in scenarios like these. Maybe that's what she is about to do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Listed below her, Alan's cock reached for her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other client, she would have been horrified, disgusted. She would have begrudgingly finished the massage, keeping her distance from his crotch. At this moment, with Alan, the set down sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She wanted Alan. She discovered that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was all set to have sex.
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