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I had called the massage place earlier in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
A well-dressed male came out from the back, looking to leave and pay . 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 simply go back?
I declined, making some lame excuse about awaiting a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may get out of the name Doris. She rapidly rang up her previous customer - he paid with a credit 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 spaces at this particular facility do, some do not. I was upset to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensual experience, and I'm always relatively switched on by the end of the hour. I generally 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 location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without caution and caught me - or came close enough, anyhow. I'm still not sure quite what she saw before she backed out of the room, asking forgiveness. So, I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have informed anyone else. Most likely I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to today. After removing my clothing 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. 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. Nevertheless, this is a true story. This female looked to be 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 not too bad.
She rested one hand on the little of my back. Hi, honey. Are you simply trying to find 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, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I questioned 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 concerns herself. 2 minutes later on, the door opened, and the exact same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be curtained or undraped during a massage? The question shocked me, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I had actually read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a client that was totally in the nude. I had never had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would freak out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had been carried out by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place stating that sessions will be ended immediately if a client acts wrongly afraid me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. After all, massage therapists usually 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 OK. Nah, I responded, more confidently. I've had sufficient massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, and unexpectedly there I was, totally naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in difficult strokes over the little of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or all over? All over, I reacted. Okay, she said. I similar to to make sure, as in some cases people are uneasy when I touch their butt. 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 said. Tossing the towel over my butt once more, she left the room. When again, she returned shortly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I ought to tell you, sweetheart, the charge card maker is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't constantly. I questioned how the credit card device had broken since the last consumer utilized it but put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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