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However, another part of me is fascinated by the prospect of a relaxation massage. I admit openly that I'm a big fan of back rubs, as my wife will ruefully attest. Petersburg, grab my pen and Fort Dodge horney wifes pad which, as you'll soon advertisemnt, will prove utterly useless and walk into the waiting room. Kathy Lee DeChant, president of the clinic and a d massage therapist, greets me. I prosoect a seat and fill out some basic forms while soft music plays in the background and incense burns somewhere out of sight.

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However, another part of me is fascinated by the prospect of a relaxation massage.

I admit openly that I'm a big fan of back rubs, as my wife will ruefully attest. Petersburg, grab my pen and note pad which, as you'll soon find, will prove utterly useless and walk into the waiting room. Kathy Lee DeChant, president of the clinic and a d massage therapist, greets zdvertisement. I take a seat and fill out some basic forms while soft music plays in the background and incense burns somewhere out of sight.

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Will I be embarrassed to be touched by a stranger? Do we talk through the whole thing or should I keep quiet? Is any part of it painful? Meanwhile, the pleasure half of my brain, the half that has inconvenienced my wife with repeated back-rub requests, bides its time. Suddenly, I'm in the room with DeChant. My instructions are to take all my clothes off, lie face down on a special table and cover myself with a towel provided by the clinic.

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DeChant leaves while I undress. Her professional demeanor prompts the logical part of my brain to relax; she is too professional to be threatening.

I scan the well-lighted room as I undress. Bottles and jars of ointment and oils line a shelf along one wall. Jazzy music continues to flow. A digital clock re I lie down and cover myself.

The table is heavily cushioned with a warm fabric lining and a special pocket up front that conforms comfortably to your face. DeChant knocks; I call her in.

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Eyes closed, I wait for her to begin. Strong, oiled hands grasp my shoulders and slide down my back. They press hard advertisejent the base of my neck, then glide down my back again. They work along my spine, penetrating tissues, erasing pockets of pain, establishing their own set of grooves in my muscle alignment.

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Masasge the pen and notepad? I had planned to write things down as the massage progressed, but I realize immediately that this will be impossible. The pleasure half of my brain, the half that has suddenly become determined to allow DeChant to drain my body of stress, takes over completely. My eyes lock shut, my arms go limp, my breathing slows. I drift into a state of semiconsciousness, not asleep and not awake; instead, I'm adrift on a thin kassage that winds peacefully between the two.

To my newly born awareness, DeChant ceases to exist. She has become a pair of hands, propelled by long arms and a powerful torso. She continues to work Ladies seeking sex Creston Ohio muscles of my back.

I want to be a massage therapist. what will my salary be?

The questions Winfall NC milf personals had asked of myself earlier are quickly answered: I am not embarrassed; being embarrassed would take too much energy. We do not talk: In fact, I'm not even sure I am now capable of it. It is not painful: The massage DeChant is performing is for stress relief and relaxation rather than rehabilitation and is purposely not powerful enough to cause much pain.

DeChant, who is married and is a native of St. Petersburg, underwent almost a year of extensive education to become a d massage therapist. She is an anatomy expert, and her massage is carefully ordered. From my back, her hands work down to my buttocks, then the backs of my legs, kneading my thighs, calves and feet.

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She skips no detail; even my toes are wrung. And advertisemfnt least one of her hands is in almost constant contact with my body.

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With my eyes still closed, I experience the massage in a world of darkness. Sight, sound, taste and smell play minor roles.

It is all about touch. I know in my mind that DeChant is moving around the table, walking from side to side, leaning over me to perform certain maneuvers, leaning slightly against me to perform others. But in darkness her hands seem to appear in different locations, as if magically transported, and I'm surprised several times to feel Hot woman want sex Montpelier touching parts of my body that seem too far apart for her to have moved into position that quickly.

I have no idea how long she has been with me. I hear her whisper: "Jim, it's time to roll over on your back. She laughs just a little, the kind of laugh you'd expect from someone who has probably seen this same reaction hundreds of times. Once I turn over, she continues.

With her thumbs she massages my forehead, eyebrows, eyes, nose and cheeks. She squeezes my chin and jawbone. She softly stretches my neck, up and down and side to side. Then she works my arms, lifting, stretching and draining the muscles.

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At one point, while she is lifting my right arm, I tense up slightly, which she senses immediately. They are the last words said until the massage is over. She squeezes my hands and fingers, then uses sweeping strokes along my chest and the sides of my abdomen. She massages the fronts of my legs and again squeezes my feet, then finishes with sliding strokes along the length Wolfforth TX cheating wives my body.

At this point I'm long advertiswment, lost somewhere inside a calmness utterly devoid of stress. She allows me to lie like this for prrospect few moments before telling me that the massage is over. My logical half finally returns, and it orders my body to sit up.

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I feel dizzy. My muscles are tingling. DeChant seems to recognize my disorientation and gives me plenty of time to clear my thoughts. Massage, she tells me, rids the advertiement of toxins and even causes a surge of endorphins, the brain's personal painkillers. She advises that I drink plenty of water to avoid nausea caused by flushed-out poisons.

She leaves so that I can dress. I stand up, still naked, and am surprised to see that the room is still well-lighted and much the same as when she began. The clock is different, though.

It now advertisfment DeChant greets me in the waiting room, chatting comfortably and searching for my reactions. I try to converse intelligently, but can't. For long moments during the massage, I had entered a layer of consciousness that was unfamiliar, and now I find it difficult to re-enter my normal world. But now I find it impossible to formulate questions.

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She seems to understand and shakes my hand as I leave. I step out into the sun. Its warmth, massaage my skin, feels intense and wonderful.