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I had actually called the massage location previously in the day to make an consultation ... the lady who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
A well-dressed guy came out from the back, looking to leave and pay . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said yes, he informed me She's back there, in space 7 - why don't you just go back?
I declined, making some lame excuse about waiting for a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might anticipate from the name Doris. She rapidly rang up her previous consumer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, which naturally is massage parlour speak for getting butt naked and get on that table, towel over your ass. She left, closing the door behind her.
While eliminating my clothing, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the spaces at this specific facility do, some do not. I was disappointed to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensuous experience, and I'm always fairly turned on by the end of the hour. So, I typically take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the room.
The last time I had actually been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without caution and caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure rather what she saw before she backed out of the space, saying sorry. I hadn't been back for about three months and was happy that Cathy was no place in sight. I questioned she would have told anybody else. Probably I'm not the only guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After eliminating my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and organized the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Can be found in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different female. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a true story. This woman looked to be in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker but a lot easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over but excusable.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you simply searching for a basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower neck and back pain from moving a bunch of computer systems today. Okay, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was everything about - typically, therapists don't relay info to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. 2 minutes later on, the door opened, and the exact same woman returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The concern stunned me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was totally in the nude. I had never ever had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would freak out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had been carried out by myself I had never ever even seriously considered asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The indications all over the place stating that sessions will be ended instantly if a customer acts inappropriately terrified me, I expect.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the question, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. After all, massage therapists typically uncover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big deal?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OK. Nah, I responded, more confidently. I've had sufficient massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, and all of a sudden there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in tough strokes over the little of my back. Do you simply desire a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she stated. She began rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn excellent. I'm going to tell Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt once more, she left the space. When again, she returned soon and eliminated the towel. Oh - I must tell you, sweetie, the charge card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I questioned how the credit card machine had broken considering that the last customer utilized it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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