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I had actually called the massage location earlier in the day to make an visit ... the female who responded to (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for when. No one was sitting at the front desk apparently, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed guy came out from the back, seeking 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 just return?
I declined, making some lame reason about awaiting a call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy like you may get out of the name Doris. She rapidly rang up her previous client - he paid with a charge card - and after that took me back to space 7.
I'll be back in a couple of minutes, she said, which naturally is massage parlour promote 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. A few of the rooms at this particular establishment do, some do not. I was disappointed to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a rather sensual experience, and I'm constantly relatively switched on by the end of the hour. I normally take matters into my own hands and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the room.
The last time I had been at this location, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still unsure rather what she saw before she revoked the room, asking forgiveness. I tossed the little towel over my dick, which was gripped securely in my right hand. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out easily. So, I hadn't been back for about 3 months and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I questioned she would have told anyone else. Probably 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. Come in, I called, anticipating to see Doris. Instead, it was a various woman. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of truth, 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 exactly a looker but a lot easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over but not too bad.
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 neck and back pain from moving a lot of computer systems today. Okay, general relaxation with focus on the lower back. Gotcha. She left the space, closing the door behind her, and I questioned what that was everything about - generally, therapists do not relay details to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be dealing with you to ask those concerns herself. 2 minutes later on, the door opened, and the very same female returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, Do you choose to be draped or undraped during a massage? The question shocked me, and I needed to ask her to duplicate it. I had actually kept reading the Internet about open-minded therapists who would massage a customer that was completely in the nude. However, I had never had the nerve to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would go crazy and believe I was a pervert. All of my sexes at this massage parlour had actually been conducted by myself I had never ever even seriously thought about asking a therapist for a assisting hand. (The signs all over the place saying that sessions will be terminated right away if a customer acts wrongly frightened me, I suppose.). Anyhow, after the 2nd time she asked the concern, I addressed Um, undraped is fine, I suppose. After all, massage therapists normally uncover each ass cheek in turn anyhow, so what was the big deal?
Are you sure? she asked. If you're shy or something, that's OKAY. Nah, I reacted, more confidently. I've had adequate massages that I'm great with it. She pulled the towel - my just covering - off my backside, and suddenly there I was, entirely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she started to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back. Do you simply want a massage on your lower back, or all over? Okay, she stated. She began rubbing the oil into my butts, and it felt darn excellent. I'm going to inform Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul, she said. Tossing the towel over my butt once again, she left the space. She returned shortly and got rid of the towel once again. Oh - I must inform you, darling, the charge card maker is broken. That's OK, I said. I have money today, though I wouldn't always. I wondered how the charge card device had actually broken since the last customer used it but put the thought quickly out of my head.
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