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I had actually called the massage location earlier in the day to make an consultation ... the female who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for when. No one was sitting at the front desk apparently, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed guy came out from the back, wanting to leave and pay . He asked if I existed to see Doris when I said yes, he informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why do not you just go back?
I decreased, making some lame reason about waiting for a call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might get out of the name Doris. She quickly called her previous customer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of 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. Some of the rooms at this specific facility do, some do not. I was dismayed to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensual experience, and I'm constantly fairly 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 actually been at this location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning 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, asking forgiveness. I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was delighted that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I doubted she would have informed anyone else. Probably I'm not the only guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After removing my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and set up 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, 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 woman looked to be 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 however not too bad.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you just looking for a general relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower back pain from moving a bunch of computers today. Okay, basic relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was all about - typically, therapists do not relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. Two minutes later, the door opened, and the very same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped throughout a massage? The concern stunned me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had continued reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. I had never had the nerve to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would freak out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had actually been conducted by myself I had never even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be ended instantly if a client acts wrongly scared me, I expect.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I answered Um, undraped is fine, I expect. After all, massage therapists usually reveal 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 OK. Nah, I reacted, more with confidence. I've had sufficient massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my behind, and unexpectedly there I was, totally naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in tough 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 butts, and it felt darn excellent. 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 room. Once again, she returned soon and eliminated the towel. Oh - I must tell you, darling, the charge card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I would not always. I wondered how the credit card device had actually broken since the last client used it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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