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I had called the massage location earlier in the day to make an appointment ... 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 pay and leave . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I stated yes, he told 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 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 quickly called her previous customer - he paid with a credit 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 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. A few of the rooms at this specific establishment do, some don't. I was disappointed to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensuous experience, and I'm always relatively switched on by the end of the hour. So, I typically 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 location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and captured me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure rather what she saw prior to she revoked the room, apologizing. I threw the small towel over my cock, which was gripped securely in my right-hand man. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out easily. I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was happy that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I doubted she would have told anyone else. Most likely I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to today. After removing my clothes and stacking them nicely on the chair, I climbed 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. Come in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different lady. Now, if this were a fantasy, 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 precisely a looker however 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 just 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 computer systems this week. Okay, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was everything about - usually, therapists don't relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with you to ask those questions herself. 2 minutes later, the door opened, and the same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The concern startled me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had kept reading the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. I had never had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would freak out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had been conducted by myself I had never even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The indications all over the place stating that sessions will be terminated instantly 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. After all, massage therapists normally discover 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 OK. Nah, I reacted, more confidently. I've had enough massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and suddenly there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in hard strokes over the little of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. 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 said. Tossing the towel over my butt again, she left the space. Once again, she returned soon and got rid of the towel. Oh - I must inform you, sweetie, the charge card maker is broken. That's OKAY, I stated. I have money today, though I would not constantly. I wondered how the charge card machine had actually broken considering that the last client utilized it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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