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I had actually called the massage place previously in the day to make an appointment ... the woman who responded to (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
A well-dressed guy 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 room 7 - why don't you simply go back?
I declined, making some lame reason about waiting on 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 consumer - he paid with a credit card - and after that took me back to room 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, 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. Some of the spaces at this particular facility do, some don't. I was dismayed to see that this was among the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensuous experience, and I'm constantly relatively turned on by the end of the hour. I normally 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 rather what she saw prior to she backed out of the space, apologizing. I had not been back for about three months and was pleased that Cathy was no place in sight. I questioned she would have informed anybody else. Most likely I'm not the only guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned. Anyway, back to today. After removing my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I climbed 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. Be available in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a different female. 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 lady 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 searching for a basic relaxation massage today? I said yes, and in particular, I was having some lower neck and 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 questioned what that was everything about - usually, therapists don't relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with 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 concern surprised me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually continued reading 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 worry she would freak out and think I was a pervert. All of my sexual activities at this massage parlour had been conducted by myself I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a helping hand. (The indications all over the place saying that sessions will be ended instantly if a customer acts inappropriately terrified me, I suppose.). Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I answered Um, undraped is fine, I expect. Massage therapists normally discover 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 with confidence. I've had adequate massages that I'm fine with it. She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my behind, and unexpectedly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in hard strokes over the little of my back. Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere? 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 stated. Tossing the towel over my butt again, she left the space. She returned soon and eliminated the towel once again. Oh - I should inform you, darling, the credit card machine is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the credit card maker had actually broken since the last consumer used it but put the believed rapidly out of my head.
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