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I had actually called the massage place earlier in the day to make an appointment ... the lady who responded to (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 informed me She's back there, in space 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I declined, making some lame reason about awaiting a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might expect from the name Doris. She quickly rang up 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 removing my clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the rooms at this particular establishment do, some do not. I was upset to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather 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 location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without caution and captured me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, apologizing. So, I hadn't been back for about three 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. Anyway, back to today. After removing my clothing and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and arranged the little 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. Instead, it was a different 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 seemed in her mid-40s, not precisely 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 little of my back. Hi, honey. Are you simply looking for a general relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower pain in the back from moving a bunch of computers this week. Okay, general relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was everything about - usually, therapists don't relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. 2 minutes later, the door opened, and the exact same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped during a massage? The concern surprised me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had kept reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was completely in the nude. I had never ever had the nerve 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 actually been performed by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The indications all over the place stating that sessions will be ended immediately if a customer acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I answered Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. Massage therapists generally uncover 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 OKAY. Nah, I reacted, more with confidence. I've had sufficient massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, 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? Everywhere, I reacted. Okay, she stated. I much like to ensure, as in some cases people are unpleasant when I touch their butt. She began 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. She returned soon and got rid of the towel once again. Oh - I must tell you, darling, the credit card device is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the charge card maker had broken given that the last customer used it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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