Massage

This is as good a time as any to talk about my first sexy massage -- on Christmas.

I've known ****a for a long time.  She was a stripper at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) for a long time.  I think it was there when, one day, she slipped me a business card.  She did massages ... well, of course she does "massages," although if you were completely clueless, you couldn't tell that from her card.

I was kind of taken aback.  I've heard of these "massages" before, most notably how people got busted in the middle of them.  I certainly didn't want that.  But I know her, she's hot, and -- and I have to be honest about it -- she gets extra points for not being Asian.  All these massage parlors, as far as I know, are staffed by Asians.  As much as I like sexual contact from women I never mustered the courage to get one from a massage parlor because I got a creepy incestuous feeling.  But this was much different, and therefore I always kept her card somewhere, just for the right time.

She gave me that card a long, long time ago.  Never acted on it.  Shoot, I've been to her place when she was doing house parties.  I remember the first time I came over, at the behest of my All-Time Favorite ***e*.  ****a answered the door topless.  Just a pair of jean shorts.  And I thought to myself, "I have to get a 'massage' from her."

So why haven't I?  I don't really know.  Maybe I didn't want to deal with the prices.  She showed her prices on, of all things, a picture she hung on the wall: $60 for 30 minutes, $90 for 60.  You add the extra services ****a supposedly provides and that seemed like a hell of a lot.  Although, it has to be said, in that very same party I spent $100 for the handjob ***e* gave me.

There was a guy who was/is one of ****a's clients.  One of us disclosed her massage service, and he told me that she was really good.  I remember him saying that ****a "does some, you know, rub-and-tug."  And maybe that's why I hadn't gotten any from her for a long time.  It's kind of weird to see another guy partake in the shit you want to do with the same girl.  Maybe that's a reason why I didn't bite the bullet for so long after that.

Finally, this year I was hired to be a flu biller again, so I knew I had the money to pay for it.  And since my folks took a cruise in mid-September, that was the perfect time to do it.  I finally contacted her (probably through the phone, although I may have initially noted my interest in doing this through e-mail) and set up a time and a price: $120 for a half-hour, through completion.  No, ****a does not fuck or suck dick.  That's OK; I'll keep working her anyway.

So her "studio" is not too far away from where I live.  Unfortunately, she shares her "office" with other people and things.  I looked up her place on Google Maps and apparently a local television studio broadcasts from the same address.  And when I finally figured out where the front door was (I had to call her and she had to direct me from my parked car around the corner; it's facing the busy street) I saw a guy there -- not one of ****a's clients, but he was there.  Damn, no screaming from me that night.

A girl was there, however, and she was with ****a.  In fact, ****a says she was her "student."  She offered the chance to be "serviced" by the both of her.  She wasn't the worst-looking girl in the world.  She was kind of chubby, but to be frank, so is ****a.  She'd be good to go naked.  But I would have had to pay double for both, and I didn't have the money.  So she left.

---

After some small talk I asked if we could strip each other.  I began with her.  I wanted to try and unclasp her bra because I wanted to learn how to unclasp bras, but she did it herself.  In the meantime I took myself out through the open fly of my porno pants.  That always gets me up, even though I wasn't totally hard.  She ... didn't care.  ****a just told me to get on the massage bed, face down.  I didn't get a towel to cover me because, why?

For the $120 total I wondered if there was going to be an actual massage that leads up to the happy ending.  At least when it comes to ****a, the answer is no.  She did bust out the lotion, but the only "real" "massagy" thing she did was rub the lotion on my back, with no pressure whatsoever.  On the second or third pass, however, she went all the way down my back to my ass.  And then she pulled a few of the hairs in my nether regions, which was such a wake-up call my body jerked in reaction.

****a knows all the moves.  She is a tease, but that's because she knows building up to the climax is the most satisfying way to please a man.  But while she's done this probably dozens of times, this was my first time getting this done, so I literally have never been touched the ways she did.  For example, after pulling my from-under-place hairs, she moved down to my left leg.  Compulsory massaging there; it was like what I do when putting lotion on my leg.  But then she reached up and ringed my testicles by touching her thumb and index finger around it.  Awwwwwwwwwwwwww.  And then ****a just outright grabbed my balls.  That felt so good, so motherfucking good, that ... this might sound weird, but ****a forced me to arch my back so I can take all of her ringy, grabby touching.  And then I had to get up on all fours, the only position in which I can withstand the sensation.  If that woman was there -- shit, if there was a cellphone camera there -- I would be fucked.  I never have been in that kind of position, literally arching my back and on all fours, figuratively in submissive bliss, ever.  But to repeat, I was not unhappy like that.

****a told me to flip over to work on my front, and probably to bring me home, so to speak.  She teased my nipples, and I returned the favor by biting hers.  "Ooh!" she said as she jerked back in shock, and not in a good way, "Don't do that.  I'm on my period."  Like she did when I was face-down, she moved her lotioned hands down my body, from my chest all the way down to my junk.  She squeezed my berries and pulled my pubes.  All the while, however, I never got fully erect.  I feel bad about that.  I kind of think that saluting ****a and her actions with my cock is a sign of respect.  I wonder if she thinks if there's something wrong with me.  I've thought about using Viagra -- not seriously, but I've thought about it from time to time, just so I can be rock-hard in cases like this.

All throughout the session we were interrupted by texts coming into her phone -- family and her mother, who's a lawyer.  That may have been why we went over a half-hour.  I wasn't unhappy, partly because I got to spend more time with her, partly because whenever she stopped her "massaging" we both stood up and I started caressing her ass or pulling on her nipples or rubbing her twat.  But it was time to end this.  She told me to move to one side as she hopped next to me and finally started touching my penis.  I hadn't realized she waited this long to get to the only muscle I really needed massaging.

One complaint I have about all the handjobs I've received is the lotion they use.  ****a used a lot, an excessive amount, lotion that I could have used, say, on my hands and feet.  I've never understand the need it to use it as a lubricant.  I don't use it on myself.  Hell, I consider lotion to be a barrier, something the woman places inbetween her and I.  I want the full her, you know, her natural finger oils, her callouses, her prints on my cock.  Besides, her hands probably would make me cum faster, especially if they're rough.  I did ask ****a to spit on my tip, and I think she got some of it on me, although she may have spat more onto the bed.

I dangled my right leg off the table just as I was about to orgasm.  I think I shook it when I ejaculated, as if shaking that would make the ejaculation go easier.  I don't know if it helped.

After she finished me off I just laid there, as if she defeated me.  ****a quickly got up and wiped her hands of my life essence with a hand towel.  You know, it always turns me on whenever a girl who just serviced me wipes cum off her hands.  I note with what she does it with.  Sometimes it's tissues, sometimes it's the towelettes I bring for us, sometimes it's my shirt, and sometimes it's a wall, which one girl did in a strip club.  Since this is her massage office, she can use all the towels that she wants.  Hell, she does this all the time, so she probably just throws them in a hamper until it's full.  She also offered me another towel to wipe the semen that I spurted onto myself.

And then we got dressed, I offered to walk out with her, ****a says she had to stick around, and we said goodbye.  No big deal -- even though it means a great deal to me.

---

I liked it so much that I wanted to do it last night, Christmas Eve.  I liked the subversive irony of it: Celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ by getting a handjob.  But we got our second big snowstorm of the season last night, starting from when I went from My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) to my brother and sister-in-law's house.  I bugged out of their place early to get to her parlor in time, but after I cleared my car of snow and got into it, I saw her text asking to reschedule.  We might -- for New Year's Eve, for example.