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I had called the massage location previously in the day to make an appointment ... the female who responded to (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 stated yes, he told me She's back there, in space 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I decreased, making some lame reason about awaiting a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may anticipate from the name Doris. She rapidly phoned her previous client - he paid with a charge card - and after that took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she stated, 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. Some of the rooms at this particular establishment do, some do not. I was shocked to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensuous 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 place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning 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, saying sorry. I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was delighted that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have told anyone else. Most likely I'm not the only person who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to today. After eliminating my clothing and stacking them nicely on the chair, I climbed on the table, face down, and organized the small 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 reality, 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 precisely a looker but much 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 little of my back. Hi, honey. Are you just looking for a basic 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 concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was everything about - generally, therapists don't 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 on, the door opened, and the exact same woman 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 repeat it. I had actually read on the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was completely in the nude. Nevertheless, I had never ever had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would freak out and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had been performed by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated immediately if a client acts inappropriately terrified me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the second time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I expect. Massage therapists generally reveal each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big offer?
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 just covering - off my backside, 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 want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she said. She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn great. I'm going to tell Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt again, she left the space. Once again, she returned soon and removed the towel. Oh - I should inform you, darling, the charge card machine is broken. That's OK, I stated. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the charge card maker had broken given that the last consumer utilized it but put the thought quickly out of my head.
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