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I had called the massage location earlier in the day to make an consultation ... the female who addressed (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 informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why don't you just go back?
I decreased, making some lame reason about awaiting 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 rapidly rang up her previous customer - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a few minutes, she said, which of course 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. Some of the rooms at this specific facility do, some don't. I was disappointed to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensuous experience, and I'm constantly fairly switched on by the end of the hour. So, I generally 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 caution and caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure rather what she saw prior to she backed out of the room, saying sorry. I had not been back for about three months and was pleased that Cathy was no place in sight. I doubted she would have told anyone else. Most likely 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 arranged the little 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. Rather, it was a different woman. Now, if this were a dream, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a true 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 however excusable.
She rested one hand on the little 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 bunch of computers today. Okay, general 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 - usually, therapists don't relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with you to ask those concerns herself. 2 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 curtained or undraped during a massage? The concern surprised me, and I needed to ask her to repeat it. I had continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. However, I had never had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would flip out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had been carried out by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated right away if a customer acts wrongly afraid me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the 2nd time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. Massage therapists generally uncover each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the huge offer?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OK. Nah, I reacted, more with confidence. I've had adequate massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my behind, and suddenly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in tough strokes over the little of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Everywhere, I responded. Okay, she stated. I much like to make sure, as sometimes people are uneasy when I touch their butt. She began 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 stated. Tossing the towel over my butt once again, she left the room. When again, she returned shortly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I must tell you, sweetie, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't constantly. I wondered how the charge card maker had broken since the last consumer used it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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