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I had actually called the massage location earlier in the day to make an visit ... the woman 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 pay and leave . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said yes, he told me She's back there, in space 7 - why do not you just go back?
I decreased, making some lame reason about waiting on a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might anticipate from the name Doris. She rapidly phoned 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 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 clothing, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the spaces at this particular establishment do, some don't. I was dismayed 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 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 warning and captured me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure rather what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, saying sorry. So, I hadn't been back for about three months and was pleased that Cathy was no place in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Most likely I'm not the only man who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to the present. After removing 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 few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Can be found in, I called, expecting to see Doris. Rather, it was a various 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 real story. This woman 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 basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower pain in the back from moving a bunch of computers today. Okay, basic relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was everything about - normally, therapists do not 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 on, the door opened, and the same woman returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The question surprised me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was totally in the nude. Nevertheless, I had never ever had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would flip out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had 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 stating that sessions will be terminated immediately if a customer acts inappropriately terrified me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the concern, 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. If you're shy or something, that's OKAY. Nah, I responded, more with confidence. I've had enough massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and suddenly there I was, totally naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back. Do you just desire a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she stated. She began rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn good. 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 eliminated the towel once again. Oh - I need to inform you, sweetheart, the charge card maker is broken. That's OK, I stated. I have money today, though I wouldn't constantly. I wondered how the charge card device had broken given that the last client utilized it but put the believed quickly out of my head.
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