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I had actually called the massage location earlier in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who addressed (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
A well-dressed man came out from the back, looking to pay and leave . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said yes, he told me She's back there, in space 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I decreased, making some lame excuse about waiting for a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may anticipate from the name Doris. She rapidly phoned her previous client - he paid with a charge card - and after that took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she stated, which obviously 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. Some of the rooms at this particular facility do, some do not. I was dismayed to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensual experience, and I'm always fairly turned on by the end of the hour. I usually take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the space.
The last time I had actually been at this location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, asking forgiveness. I hadn't been back for about three months and was delighted that Cathy was no place in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Most likely I'm not the only guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to the present. After removing my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and arranged the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a couple of minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Be available in, I called, expecting to see Doris. Rather, it was a various woman. Now, if this were a dream, instead of truth, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a true story. This lady looked to be in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker however much 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 just looking for a basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower back pain from moving a lot of computers today. Okay, basic relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was all about - generally, therapists do not relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. Two minutes later, the door opened, and the very same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The question shocked me, and I needed to ask her to repeat it. I had actually continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was totally in the nude. Nevertheless, I had never had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would go nuts and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had been carried out by myself I had never ever even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place stating that sessions will be terminated instantly if a client acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the concern, I answered Um, undraped is fine, I expect. After all, massage therapists typically discover 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 OKAY. Nah, I responded, more confidently. I've had adequate massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and suddenly there I was, totally naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. She began rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn great. I'm going to inform Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt once more, she left the room. She returned shortly and got rid of the towel once again. Oh - I need to inform you, sweetheart, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I stated. I have money today, though I would not constantly. I questioned how the credit card maker had actually broken given that the last customer used it however put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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