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I had called the massage location previously in the day to make an visit ... the female who responded to (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
A well-dressed male came out from the back, looking to pay and leave . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said 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 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 phoned her previous consumer - 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 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 removing my clothing, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the rooms at this specific facility do, some don't. I was dismayed 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 relatively switched on by the end of the hour. I typically 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 warning and captured me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not exactly sure rather what she saw prior to she revoked the room, asking forgiveness. I threw the little towel over my dick, which was gripped firmly in my right hand. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out quickly. I had not been back for about three months and was delighted that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Probably I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After removing my clothes and stacking them nicely on the chair, I climbed on the table, face down, and organized the little 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 woman. Now, if this were a dream, instead of truth, 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 however 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 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 all about - usually, therapists don't 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 exact same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be curtained or undraped throughout a massage? The concern startled me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was completely in the nude. However, I had never ever had the nerve to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would go nuts and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had been carried out by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated right away if a customer acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the concern, I answered Um, undraped is great, I suppose. After all, massage therapists usually discover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big deal?
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 great 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 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 began rubbing the oil into my butts, 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 shortly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I need to tell you, darling, the charge card maker is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the credit card device had actually broken since the last customer used it however put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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