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I had actually called the massage place previously in the day to make an appointment ... the lady 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 leave and pay . He asked if I was there to see Doris when I stated yes, he informed me She's back there, in space 7 - why do not you just go back?
I decreased, making some lame excuse about waiting on a call, just as Doris came out from the back corridor. She remained in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you might anticipate from the name Doris. She quickly called her previous client - he paid with a credit card - and after that took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a few minutes, she stated, which obviously is massage parlour promote 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. A few of the rooms at this specific establishment do, some do not. I was dismayed to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensual experience, and I'm constantly relatively 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 exactly sure rather what she saw before she revoked the space, asking forgiveness. I threw the small towel over my dick, which was gripped firmly in my right-hand man. In any case, she either clearly saw what I was doing or figured it out quickly. I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was delighted that Cathy was no place in sight. I doubted 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 the present. After eliminating my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and organized the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Come in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different woman. Now, if this were a dream, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits. Nevertheless, this is a real story. This woman seemed in her mid-40s, not precisely a looker however a lot 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 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 pain in the back from moving a bunch of computer systems this week. Okay, general relaxation with concentrate on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was everything about - usually, therapists do not relay info 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 same lady returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you prefer to be draped or undraped during a massage? The question startled me, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I had read on the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a client that was entirely in the nude. I had never ever had the nerve 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 performed by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated immediately if a customer acts wrongly terrified me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I responded to Um, undraped is great, I suppose. Massage therapists usually reveal each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the huge deal?
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 fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and all of a sudden there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in tough strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, 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 more, she left the room. She returned shortly and eliminated the towel once again. Oh - I should tell you, sweetie, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have cash today, though I would not constantly. I questioned how the credit card device had broken since the last customer used it however put the thought rapidly out of my head.
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