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I had called the massage place earlier in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for once. No one was sitting at the front desk obviously, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed man came out from the back, looking to leave and pay . He asked if I existed to see Doris when I said yes, he informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why don't you just go back?
I decreased, making some lame excuse about waiting on a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might anticipate from 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 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. Some of the rooms at this particular establishment do, some don't. I was upset 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 switched on by the end of the hour. So, I generally take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the space.
The last time I had actually been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and captured 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 had not been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was no place in sight. I doubted 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 the present. 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 couple of minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Come in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a various woman. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. Nevertheless, this is a true story. This lady seemed in her mid-40s, not exactly 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 just searching for a basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower neck and back pain from moving a lot of computer systems 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 all about - generally, 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. 2 minutes later on, the door opened, and the very same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The concern shocked me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had continued reading the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. I had never ever had the guts 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 performed by myself I had never even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs 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 question, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I suppose. Massage therapists generally reveal each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big offer?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OKAY. Nah, I reacted, more with confidence. I've had enough massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and all of a sudden there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in difficult strokes over the little of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. She started rubbing the oil into my butts, and it felt darn excellent. I'm going to tell Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt once more, she left the space. She returned soon and eliminated the towel once again. Oh - I must inform you, sweetheart, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I would not always. I wondered how the charge card maker had actually broken considering that the last consumer utilized it however put the believed rapidly out of my head.
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