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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.
I arrived around 2:20, early for when. Nobody was sitting at the front desk obviously, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed guy came out from the back, looking to pay and leave . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said yes, he informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why do not you simply return?
I declined, making some lame excuse about awaiting a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may expect from the name Doris. She quickly called her previous consumer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, which obviously is massage parlour promote 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 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 constantly relatively 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 room.
The last time I had actually been at this location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without caution and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. 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 pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Most likely I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. 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 few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Come in, I called, expecting to see Doris. Instead, it was a various lady. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a real story. This lady 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 however excusable.
She rested one hand on the little 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 pain in the back from moving a bunch of computer systems today. Okay, basic relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was all about - typically, therapists don't relay information 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 female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The question shocked me, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I had actually read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was completely in the nude. However, 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 actually been conducted by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be ended immediately if a client acts wrongly scared me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the 2nd time she asked the concern, I answered Um, undraped is great, I suppose. After all, massage therapists normally reveal each ass cheek in turn anyway, 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 enough massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and unexpectedly there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in difficult strokes over the little of my back. Do you simply desire a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she said. She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn great. 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 room. Once again, she returned quickly and removed the towel. Oh - I need to tell you, sweetie, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I stated. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I questioned how the charge card machine had broken considering that the last customer used it however put the believed rapidly out of my head.
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