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I had called the massage place earlier in the day to make an consultation ... the woman 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 told me She's back there, in space 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 may anticipate from 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 few 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 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 sensuous experience, and I'm always fairly switched on by the end of the hour. So, I usually 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, anyhow. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, asking forgiveness. So, I had not been back for about three months and was pleased that Cathy was no place in sight. I questioned she would have informed anyone else. Most likely I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After eliminating my clothes and stacking them nicely on the chair, I climbed 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. Instead, it was a various lady. Now, if this were a dream, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a real story. This woman seemed 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 but not too bad.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you just searching for a general relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower pain in the back from moving a lot of computers this week. Okay, general relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I wondered 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. Two minutes later on, the door opened, and the exact same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The concern startled me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had kept reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was completely in the nude. I had never had the nerve to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would freak out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had actually been carried out by myself I had never ever 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 customer acts wrongly frightened me, I expect.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I suppose. After all, massage therapists generally 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 responded, more with confidence. I've had sufficient massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, and all of a sudden there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in tough strokes over the little of my back. Do you just desire a massage on your lower back, or all over? All over, I reacted. Okay, she said. I just like to make sure, as in some cases individuals are unpleasant when I touch their butt. She started rubbing the oil into my butts, and it felt darn good. I'm going to tell Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she stated. Tossing the towel over my butt once again, she left the room. When again, she returned soon and got rid of the towel. Oh - I ought to tell you, sweetheart, the credit card maker is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I would not always. I questioned how the charge card machine had actually broken given that the last consumer used it however put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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