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I had called the massage place previously in the day to make an visit ... the female who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for once. Nobody was sitting at the front desk apparently, they were a bit understaffed today. 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 said yes, he told me She's back there, in space 7 - why do not you simply return?
I declined, making some lame reason about waiting for a telephone 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 consumer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a few minutes, she said, which naturally 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 clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. Some of the spaces at this specific facility 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 fairly turned on by the end of the hour. I normally take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the room.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and captured me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, saying sorry. So, I had not been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I doubted she would have told anyone else. Probably I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to today. After eliminating my clothes and stacking them nicely on the chair, I climbed 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. Come in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different woman. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of truth, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a true story. This female looked to be in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker but much 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 trying to find a basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower back pain from moving a lot of computer systems today. Okay, basic relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was everything about - generally, therapists do not relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. 2 minutes later on, the door opened, and the very same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped during a massage? The question stunned me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually read on the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a customer that was entirely in the nude. However, I had never had the nerve 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 conducted by myself I had never ever 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 suppose.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the question, I responded to Um, undraped is fine, I expect. After all, massage therapists generally discover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big deal?
Are you sure? she asked. That's OK if you're shy or something. Nah, I reacted, more confidently. I've had sufficient massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my just 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 tough strokes over the little of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. 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 space. She returned shortly and removed 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 wouldn't constantly. I questioned how the credit card device had actually broken since the last consumer used it but put the thought quickly out of my head.
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