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I had called the massage place previously 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 leave and pay . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I stated 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 waiting on a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may expect from the name Doris. She rapidly phoned her previous client - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she stated, which naturally 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 spaces at this particular facility do, some do not. I was dismayed to see that this was among the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensual experience, and I'm always 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 space.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still unsure quite what she saw before she backed out of the room, saying sorry. I threw the little 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 quickly. So, I had not been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have told anyone else. Probably I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to the present. After eliminating my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and set up the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a couple of minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Can be found in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different female. 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 female 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 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 neck and back pain from moving a bunch of computers today. Okay, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was everything about - usually, therapists don't relay info to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. Two minutes later on, the door opened, and the exact same woman returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The question 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 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 even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated immediately if a customer acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyway, after the 2nd time she asked the concern, I answered Um, undraped is fine, I expect. Massage therapists typically discover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the huge deal?
Are you sure? she asked. That's OK if you're shy or something. Nah, I reacted, more with confidence. I've had enough massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and all of a sudden there I was, totally naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she stated. She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, 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 once again, she left the room. She returned soon and got rid of the towel once again. Oh - I ought to tell you, darling, the credit card maker is broken. That's OK, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the credit card machine had broken given that the last consumer used it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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