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I had 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.
I got here around 2:20, early for when. Nobody was sitting at the front desk obviously, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed man came out from the back, aiming 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 room 7 - why don't you just return?
I declined, making some lame reason about waiting on a call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might expect from the name Doris. She quickly called her previous consumer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a few 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 clothing, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the spaces at this particular establishment do, some do not. I was disappointed to see that this was one of 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. I usually 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 caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure rather what she saw before she backed out of the space, saying sorry. So, I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Probably I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After eliminating my clothing and stacking them nicely on the chair, I climbed on the table, face down, and arranged the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a couple of minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Be available in, I called, expecting to see Doris. Instead, it was a different lady. Now, if this were a dream, instead of truth, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a true story. This female seemed in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker however a lot 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 simply looking for 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, basic relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was all about - typically, 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. 2 minutes later, the door opened, and the very same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped during a massage? The question startled me, and I needed to ask her to repeat it. I had kept reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was entirely in the nude. I had never had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would freak out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had been conducted by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated instantly if a client acts wrongly afraid me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the 2nd time she asked the question, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I expect. After all, massage therapists typically reveal 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 OK. Nah, I responded, more confidently. I've had enough 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, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in difficult strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she said. She started 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 once more, she left the room. She returned shortly and removed the towel once again. Oh - I ought to tell you, sweetie, the credit card device is broken. That's OK, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the credit card maker had broken since the last consumer used it but put the believed quickly out of my head.
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