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I had called the massage location earlier in the day to make an visit ... 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 leave and pay . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I stated yes, he told me She's back there, in space 7 - why don't you just go back?
I declined, making some lame reason about awaiting a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might get out of the name Doris. She rapidly called her previous customer - he paid with a credit card - and after that took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a few minutes, she said, 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 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 dismayed to see that this was among the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensuous experience, and I'm always relatively switched on by the end of the hour. I normally take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the space.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still not exactly sure rather what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, asking forgiveness. I threw the small towel over my dick, which was grasped firmly in my right-hand man. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out quickly. I had not been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I doubted she would have told anyone else. Most likely I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to the present. After removing my clothing and stacking them nicely 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. Rather, 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. However, this is a true story. This woman looked to be 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 but not too bad.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you simply trying to find 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 questioned what that was all about - typically, therapists do not relay info to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with you to ask those questions herself. Two minutes later, the door opened, and the same woman returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The concern stunned me, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I had read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was completely in the nude. However, I had never had the nerve to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would flip out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had actually 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 right away if a client acts wrongly afraid me, I expect.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the question, I responded to Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. Massage therapists usually uncover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the huge offer?
Are you sure? she asked. That's OKAY if you're shy or something. 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 behind, and unexpectedly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in tough strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or all over? 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 stated. Tossing the towel over my butt once again, she left the space. As soon as again, she returned quickly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I need to inform you, sweetheart, the credit card device is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I would not always. I wondered how the charge card machine had actually broken considering that the last consumer used it but put the believed quickly out of my head.
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