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I had called the massage location previously in the day to make an visit ... 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 once. Nobody was sitting at the front desk obviously, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed man came out from the back, wanting to leave and pay . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said yes, he informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why do not you just return?
I declined, making some lame excuse about waiting on a call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might expect from the name Doris. She rapidly called her previous client - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she stated, which obviously is massage parlour promote getting butt naked and get on that table, towel over your ass. She left, closing the door behind her.
While eliminating my clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the spaces at this particular facility do, some don't. I was shocked to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensual experience, and I'm always relatively switched on by the end of the hour. So, I typically take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the space.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the room, 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 guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, 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 little 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, anticipating to see Doris. Rather, it was a various female. Now, if this were a fantasy, 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 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 little 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 back pain from moving a bunch of computer systems this week. 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 everything about - typically, therapists don't relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those concerns herself. 2 minutes later, the door opened, and the same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped during a massage? The concern startled me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had kept reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. However, I had never ever had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would go nuts and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had actually been carried out by myself I had never even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be ended instantly if a customer acts wrongly terrified me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. Massage therapists usually uncover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the huge offer?
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 fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my backside, and suddenly there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in tough strokes over the little of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she said. She began 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 again, she left the space. She returned soon and eliminated the towel once again. Oh - I must inform you, sweetheart, the charge card maker is broken. That's OKAY, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I questioned how the charge card machine had broken since the last customer used it however put the thought quickly out of my head.
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