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I had called the massage location previously in the day to make an consultation ... the lady who responded to (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 stated yes, he informed me She's back there, in space 7 - why do not you simply go back?
I declined, making some lame reason about waiting for a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might get out of the name Doris. She quickly rang up her previous consumer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she stated, 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 specific establishment do, some don't. I was upset to see that this was among 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. So, I normally 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, anyway. I'm still unsure rather what she saw before she revoked the room, saying sorry. I tossed the little towel over my dick, which was gripped tightly in my right hand. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out quickly. So, I hadn't been back for about three months and was pleased that Cathy was no place in sight. I doubted she would have told anyone else. Probably I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to today. After removing my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got 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, expecting to see Doris. Rather, it was a different female. 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 woman seemed in her mid-40s, not precisely a looker but much 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 little 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 back pain from moving a lot of computer systems this week. 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 - usually, 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 on, the door opened, and the same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The question startled me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was completely in the nude. I had never ever had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would freak out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had actually been conducted by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place stating that sessions will be terminated right away if a customer acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyhow, after the 2nd time she asked the question, I answered Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. Massage therapists generally reveal each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the big offer?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OK. Nah, I responded, more with confidence. I've had sufficient massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my only 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 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 inform 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. Once again, she returned soon and removed the towel. Oh - I should inform you, darling, the charge card machine is broken. That's OK, I stated. I have cash today, though I wouldn't constantly. I questioned how the credit card maker had broken considering that the last consumer used it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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