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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 might bring their tension in their stomachs, he brought his in his body. His muscles frequently were a ball of stress that even his foam roller in the house could not exercise. He disliked 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 guy or a female? 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 sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it mean he was a fool who anticipated a happy ending?
No choice, is what he normally said. Sometimes, he would add, Whoever is best at relaxing muscles. Alan surprised himself today when he informed the receptionist, A lady, please. Where did that originated from? he wondered. After work, he hit the health club, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his unusual response over the phone previously, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, casually sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan searched for from his magazine to discover her; small 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 said.
Alan was Ally's last client of the day. When she saw his personal health seemed to be great and that he had good skin, she was glad. And when she shook his strong hand and looked 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, giving him 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 intense awareness of his body and its feelings. He found it to be deeply meditative. When he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally coming back in, his heart began to beat much faster. Unusual, Alan believed. He was supposed to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.
Alan could not be sure. Alan might feel her heat on him. Alan could not help however imagine 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, soothing satisfaction that directly contradicted the stimulation that had begun in his loins), she saw 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 wrapped itself around him and Alan thought, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.
As she worked his body, her hands served as her eyes. Removing a bit of the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the sinewy figure she drew in her mind. Alan attempted to imagine a more total image of the body connected to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally provided off supplied a crude type of finder in his pitch-black world.
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. When Ally rested on a stool near his head and started to knead his neck, he envisioned her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He envisioned her not in the nurse's scrubs that she wore, 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 in this manner for half an hour. It was time for her to massage his chest, arms, and quadriceps. Run 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 pull back, she and Alan saw it at the same time. Alan was completely set up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He declined to open his eyes to attempt to construct out Ally's reaction. He didn't understand what to state. 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 scenarios like these. Maybe that's what she will do, he hoped. Prior to she stepped away, Ally had actually frozen. Below her, Alan's cock 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. The butterflies discovered their way from her chest down to the place below her navel. She wanted Alan. She discovered that, for the very first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex. The last thirty minutes had actually been sufficient preparation. She was ready, right then, at that moment. And she would not let that moment pass.
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