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I had actually called the massage location earlier in the day to make an consultation ... 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 informed me She's back there, in room 7 - why do not you just go back?
I declined, making some lame excuse about awaiting a telephone call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may expect from the name Doris. She rapidly called her previous customer - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a few minutes, she stated, which obviously 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 clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. A few of the rooms at this specific facility do, some don't. I was dismayed to see that this was one of the spaces without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensual experience, and I'm constantly fairly turned on by the end of the hour. I usually take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the space.
The last time I had 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 quite what she saw before she backed out of the room, saying sorry. So, I hadn't been back for about three 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. Anyway, back to today. After eliminating my clothing and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and arranged the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Can be found in, I called, expecting to see Doris. Rather, it was a various 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 true story. This woman looked to be in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker but much easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over however excusable.
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 pain in the back from moving a bunch of computers this week. Okay, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was everything about - normally, 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 woman 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 needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had continued reading the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a customer that was totally in the nude. Nevertheless, I had never ever had the guts to ask a therapist to do so, for worry she would go nuts and think I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had been conducted by myself I had never 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 scared me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. Massage therapists generally reveal each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the huge offer?
Are you sure? she asked. That's OK if you're shy or something. Nah, I responded, more confidently. I've had enough massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my backside, 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 just want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. She began rubbing the oil into my buttocks, 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 again, she left the room. Once again, she returned quickly and got rid of the towel. Oh - I ought to tell you, sweetie, the credit card maker is broken. That's OKAY, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I questioned how the charge card maker had broken since the last consumer used it however put the believed rapidly out of my head.
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