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I had actually called the massage place earlier in the day to make an visit ... the female who addressed (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
A well-dressed man came out from the back, looking to pay and leave . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I said yes, he informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I declined, making some lame reason about awaiting a call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might expect from the name Doris. She rapidly rang up her previous consumer - he paid with a charge card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, which of course 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 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 disappointed to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensuous experience, and I'm always relatively turned on by the end of the hour. So, I usually take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the space.
The last time I had actually been at this place, 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 before 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 told anybody else. Probably I'm not the only person 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 climbed 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 lady. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of truth, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. However, this is a real story. This woman looked to be in her mid-40s, not precisely a looker however much easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over but not too bad.
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 neck and back pain from moving a lot of computer systems this week. Okay, general 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 - 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 concerns herself. Two minutes later on, the door opened, and the very same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The question startled me, and I had to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was entirely in the nude. I had never had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would freak out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had been carried out by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated right away if a client acts wrongly afraid me, I expect.). Anyhow, after the 2nd time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I suppose. After all, massage therapists usually discover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, 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 backside, and unexpectedly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in difficult strokes over the little of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she stated. She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn great. I'm going to inform Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she stated. Tossing the towel over my butt again, she left the room. When again, she returned soon and eliminated the towel. Oh - I need to inform you, sweetheart, the charge card machine is broken. That's OK, I stated. I have cash today, though I wouldn't constantly. I questioned how the credit card maker had broken considering that the last customer utilized it however put the thought quickly out of my head.
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