March 25, 2011

  • Massage ++ part 2/3.

    She walked in as I was positioning myself to sit on the edge of the massage table. She looked pretty in Turkish-blue. Too pretty, too sexy, and too posh looking for a masseur. She was young too. Must be in her early 20s. She was all smiles. She said something in Chinese. I replied “err… What?” to clarify that I don’t speak her mother tongue. Realizing my inability to understand her language, she pointed to the bed. “You want me to lay there? It’s dirty” I said with a disapproval expression on my face. The bed was obviously recently used or maybe the night before. The sheet was wrinkled and looked half torn away from being tightly tucked in on the sides of the mattress. She walked towards the bed, straightened the sheet, and laid down a towel on top, like one would roll out a carpet for a customer to see its pattern. It’s too late to turn back now, I thought to myself. I just have to go with it and see how far she’ll go. I’ve got to have faith. This may not be what I thought this might be.

    So I took off my kimono rope. With only the kimono shorts on, I laid myself down on top of the towel, stomach down. She began to massage my shoulders. She had no strength. She was all soft and gentle. This is not what I was paying for. At first I thought maybe it’s all gentle to start with but eventually more pressure will be applied. Minutes passed and she was still not doing her job well. So I said “Stronger, please”. She didn’t get me. “Stronger” I repeated and pressed my hand down hard against the bed to show indentation. “Oh” she nodded. And she began to press harder. Still, only for a minute or so. She was much too petite and inexperienced to do a real massage. I gave up. I let her gentle massage me from shoulder to back to feet to legs to gluts. Nothing sexual. Yet.

    She tapped me on my shoulder. I looked up and she had both of her hands on her head and mimicking a scratching movement. A monkey??... Oh, a head message. Got it. So I sat up with my legs crossed, waiting for her to go behind me and start massaging my head. It took about half a minute of nothing and then I felt a light tap on my shoulder again. I looked back. She was sitting against the bed wall with her legs spread wide open and signaling me to lay my head on her opened lap. Oh boy, I thought. Ok, calm down. Just go with it. And so I laid my head down and let her do her thing. Again, she was all gentle. Felt like someone was washing my hair for me. She’s clearly no masseur.

    After a while she tapped me again and signaling that she’ll move on to the rest of my body. So I laid there stomach up, eyes closed, while she moved to my side, kneeling and began massaging my arm. As she was working her way to my upper arm, my hand automatically fell downward toward the bed. It fell on her thigh. In a reflex, I lifted off my hand. I didn’t want her to think I was a pervert. To my surprise, she gently placed my hand back on her thigh. Twice too. When she moved to the opposite side and worked on my other arm, she did the same. I couldn’t help but to notice how soft and smooth her skin was against the back of my hand. Softer than cotton candy. Smoother than a baby’s bottom. Never in my life had I touched a skin so silky smooth. Certainly not with anyone I’ve been with before.

    She moved on to work on my legs. She started down from my feet and worked her way up to my thighs. I was too lazy to tell her to apply more pressure, knowing it would be a waste of my breath. Then it got kind of weird. As she was massaging my thighs, he hands somehow managed to brush against my crotch. Numerous times. Then “brush” turned into err… “slight fondle”. My heart skipped a beat. Not knowing what I should do, I got tense.

Comments (8)

Post a Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

Recent Comments

Categories