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I had called the massage location earlier in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who responded to (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I showed up around 2:20, early for once. No one was sitting at the front desk obviously, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed male came out from the back, seeking 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 do not you just go back?
I declined, making some lame excuse about waiting on a call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may anticipate from the name Doris. She rapidly called her previous client - he paid with a charge card - and after that took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, 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 clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. Some of the spaces at this particular facility do, some don't. I was shocked to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensual experience, and I'm always relatively turned on by the end of the hour. So, 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 caution and captured me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still not sure rather what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, saying sorry. I had not been back for about three months and was delighted that Cathy was no place in sight. I doubted she would have informed anybody else. Most likely I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to the present. After removing my clothes and stacking them neatly 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 few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Can be found in, I called, expecting to see Doris. Rather, it was a different lady. 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 seemed in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker however much 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 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, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was all about - generally, therapists don't relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those concerns herself. 2 minutes later on, the door opened, and the very same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped during a massage? The question shocked 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. Nevertheless, I had never ever had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would freak out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had actually been performed by myself I had never 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 afraid me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. After all, massage therapists generally uncover each ass cheek in turn anyway, 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 adequate 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 began to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply desire a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she said. She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn good. I'm going to inform Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt once more, she left the space. Once again, she returned soon and removed the towel. Oh - I ought to inform you, sweetie, the credit card maker is broken. That's OKAY, I stated. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the charge card maker had broken since the last customer used it but put the believed rapidly out of my head.
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