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I had actually called the massage place previously in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who addressed (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I got here 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, aiming to leave and pay . He asked if I existed to see Doris when I said yes, he told me She's back there, in space 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I declined, making some lame excuse about waiting for a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might get out of the name Doris. She quickly phoned her previous client - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a few minutes, she said, which of course 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 eliminating my clothing, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the spaces at this particular facility do, some do not. I was disappointed to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensuous experience, and I'm always relatively switched 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 space.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without caution and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still not sure quite what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, apologizing. So, I had not been back for about three months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I doubted she would have told anybody else. Probably I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After removing my clothing and stacking them nicely on the chair, I got 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. Be available in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Rather, it was a various lady. Now, if this were a dream, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. This is a true story. This woman seemed in her mid-40s, not exactly 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 small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you just trying to find a basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower neck and back pain from moving a bunch of computers this week. 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 - generally, therapists don't relay info to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with you to ask those questions herself. Two minutes later, the door opened, and the exact same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped during a massage? The question shocked me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually kept reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was entirely in the nude. Nevertheless, I had never had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would flip out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had been conducted by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The signs all over the place stating that sessions will be terminated right away if a customer acts inappropriately terrified me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the 2nd time she asked the question, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I expect. Massage therapists normally discover 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 with confidence. I've had adequate massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and all of a sudden there I was, entirely 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 all over? Okay, she stated. She began 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 stated. Tossing the towel over my butt once again, she left the room. When again, she returned quickly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I should inform you, sweetheart, the credit card maker is broken. That's OKAY, I said. I have cash today, though I wouldn't constantly. I wondered how the charge card machine had actually broken considering that the last customer used it but put the thought quickly out of my head.
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