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I had called the massage location earlier 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.
A well-dressed guy came out from the back, looking 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 room 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I declined, making some lame excuse about waiting for a 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 rang up her previous consumer - he paid with a credit card - and after that took me back to space 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 eliminating my clothing, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. Some of the rooms at this specific establishment do, some do not. I was shocked to see that this was among the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensuous experience, and I'm always 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) returned in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still unsure rather what she saw before she backed out of the room, apologizing. I tossed the small towel over my dick, which was grasped tightly in my right hand. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out quickly. I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was happy that Cathy was no place in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Probably 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. Be available in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different lady. Now, if this were a dream, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. However, this is a true story. This female 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 just looking 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 - generally, therapists don't relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with you to ask those concerns herself. 2 minutes later, the door opened, and the same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be curtained or undraped throughout a massage? The question surprised me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was entirely in the nude. I had never 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 been carried out by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated immediately if a client acts inappropriately frightened me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the 2nd time she asked the concern, I answered Um, undraped is great, I expect. Massage therapists generally uncover each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the huge offer?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OK. Nah, I reacted, more confidently. I've had sufficient massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my backside, and unexpectedly there I was, totally naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in tough strokes over the small of my back. Do you just 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 excellent. 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 should inform you, sweetheart, the charge card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I would not constantly. I wondered how the charge card machine had actually broken given that the last customer used it but put the believed rapidly out of my head.
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