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I had called the massage location earlier in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who responded to (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for once. Nobody was sitting at the front desk apparently, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed guy came out from the back, seeking 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 do not you just return?
I declined, making some lame reason about waiting on a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might get out of the name Doris. She quickly called her previous client - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she stated, which of course 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 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 constantly fairly turned on by the end of the hour. I generally take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the room.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the room, saying sorry. So, I had not been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have informed anyone else. Probably I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to the present. After removing my clothing and stacking them neatly on the chair, I climbed on the table, face down, and organized the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a couple of minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Come in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different woman. Now, if this were a dream, instead of truth, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. However, this is a real story. This woman seemed in her mid-40s, not precisely a looker but a lot easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over however not too bad.
She rested one hand on the little of my back. Hi, honey. Are you simply searching for a general relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower back pain from moving a lot of computers today. Okay, general relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was everything about - typically, therapists do not relay info to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those concerns herself. Two minutes later on, the door opened, and the same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped during a massage? The concern surprised me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually continued reading the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a client that was completely in the nude. I had never ever had the guts 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 helping hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be ended instantly if a client acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the concern, I responded to Um, undraped is great, I suppose. After all, massage therapists generally discover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big deal?
Are you sure? she asked. That's OKAY if you're shy or something. Nah, I responded, more confidently. I've had sufficient massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, and unexpectedly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she said. She began rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn good. I'm going to tell Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt again, she left the space. As soon as again, she returned quickly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I should inform you, sweetie, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't constantly. I wondered how the credit card maker had broken because the last customer utilized it but put the believed quickly out of my head.
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