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I had called the massage place previously in the day to make an appointment ... the female who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for when. Nobody was sitting at the front desk obviously, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed male 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 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 might expect from the name Doris. She rapidly phoned her previous client - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, 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 spaces at this particular establishment do, some do not. I was shocked to see that this was among the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather 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 room.
The last time I had actually been at this location, my therapist (Cathy) returned in without warning and captured me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still uncertain rather what she saw prior to she revoked the room, saying sorry. I tossed the small towel over my dick, which was grasped securely in my right hand. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out easily. I hadn't been back for about three months and was delighted that Cathy was no place in sight. I doubted she would have informed anybody else. Most likely I'm not the only guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyhow, back to today. After eliminating my clothing and stacking them neatly on the chair, I got on the table, face down, and set up the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door. Be available in, I called, anticipating 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 but excusable.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. Hi, honey. Are you simply 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 lot of computer systems today. Okay, basic relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was all about - generally, therapists don't relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself. 2 minutes later, the door opened, and the exact same female 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 continued reading the Internet about unbiased therapists who would massage a client that was entirely in the nude. However, I had never ever 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 sexual activities 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 saying that sessions will be ended immediately if a client acts inappropriately frightened me, I expect.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I addressed Um, undraped is great, I suppose. Massage therapists generally discover each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the huge offer?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OKAY. Nah, I reacted, more confidently. I've had sufficient massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, and all of a sudden there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in difficult strokes over the little of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? Okay, she stated. She began rubbing the oil into my butts, and it felt darn good. I'm going to inform Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she stated. Tossing the towel over my butt again, she left the room. When again, she returned soon and got rid of the towel. Oh - I must tell you, sweetheart, the credit card machine is broken. That's OKAY, I stated. I have cash today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the credit card maker had broken since the last customer utilized it but put the thought quickly out of my head.
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