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I had actually called the massage location previously in the day to make an consultation ... 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 room 7 - why do not you simply go back?
I decreased, making some lame reason about waiting on a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may expect from the name Doris. She quickly phoned 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 removing my clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. Some of the rooms at this particular establishment do, some do not. I was upset to see that this was among the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensuous experience, and I'm constantly relatively turned on by the end of the hour. I usually 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 caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure rather what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, apologizing. 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 anybody else. Probably I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to the present. After removing my clothing and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and set up the little towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Be available in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Rather, it was a various 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 lady looked to be in her mid-40s, not precisely a looker but a lot easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over but excusable.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you just looking for 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 questioned what that was all about - typically, therapists don't relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. Two minutes later, the door opened, and the same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The question surprised me, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I had actually read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. Nevertheless, I had never had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would go crazy and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had actually been performed by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated right away if a client 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 normally uncover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big deal?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OKAY. Nah, I reacted, more confidently. I've had adequate massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my behind, and unexpectedly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in difficult strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply desire a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? All over, I responded. Okay, she stated. I much like to make sure, as in some cases individuals are uncomfortable when I touch their butt. 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 once again, she left the room. Once again, she returned shortly and removed the towel. Oh - I ought to tell you, sweetheart, the credit card maker is broken. That's OK, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I questioned how the charge card machine had broken considering that the last client used it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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