It’s that time of the month again.
Maybe I’ve been having a good week and want to top it off. Maybe I’ve been having a bad week and need to help myself relax. Maybe I just got waxed and am feeling extra sensitive. Either way, I’m parked right outside the venue with my engine off; my car lit up by the flashing neon sign in the shape of a foot mounted on the side of the building.
I walk a straight line from my car to the staircase and then knock on the locked glass door so that the boss will buzz me in. Once inside, I ask if “X” is available; X being whoever my favourite masseuse of the moment is. Having been coming to this place for almost the past ten years, I’ve had many different favourites. Sometimes they quit the life, sometimes they move away to other branches, or sometimes I just discover someone I like more; someone who ends up being my new favourite.
The boss takes my cash and walks me over to my massage table. The place dimly lit but very clean, very comfortable. Once inside I like to get undressed, though unlike most people who lay down with a towel covering their body, what I like to do is to sit on the side of the massage table waiting to meet my masseuse.
Masseuses who are familiar with me won’t be surprised. They’ll walk in, say hi, put down their towels and massage oils and come towards me. They know that I like to manja with them for awhile; wrapping my arms around them, asking them how their day was, planting sweet kisses all over them. I do this for two reasons: firstly, because it’s common courtesy. Not only are these human beings who deserve respect, they’re also devoting time to providing you with pleasure; it doesn’t hurt to throw some appreciation back their way. Second, because as you know from my previous confessions, nothing makes me harder than to manja.
After a few minutes, I’ll lay on my stomach so they can message me from the back first. Here’s what most people don’t realise: places like these actually provide great massages. She’ll start with my feet, then slowly move up my legs, and move up my back towards my shoulders. The ones who are familiar with me know how I like it: as they massage my ass and inner thighs, they’ll deliberately let the tip of their fingers brush against my asshole, balls and cock.
This drives me insane, and every time I feel her fingers briefly run past my sensitive areas, I gasp, my head jerks up, or jerks around. I deliberately let my body respond to everything this woman does to me; this is a form of submission, since I’m the one laying bare on a table, and she has all of me in the palm of her hand (literally!).
As she moves higher, sometimes she plays a little with my asshole. Depending on the masseuse, she might even let the first half inch of her finger slide into my asshole, lubricated by the massage oil she’s covering me with. I’ll hold my moan (since the only thing separating me from the next message table is a thick curtain; though I’m not complaining, it feels sexier), but my head will jerk, I’ll gasp, my body will spasm. I want her to know what effect she has on my body, and I want to shut off my brain and surrender completely to her hands.
Once she’s done with my back and shoulders, she’ll whisper in my ear telling me to turn over. Now that I’m on my back, things start to heat up.
Depending on the masseuse, I’ll be able to pay for extras. A lot of this is trust-based, and contrary to popular belief, places like the one I go to do NOT allow the girls to fuck their customers. From what I understand, it’s because that would officially make what we’re doing illegal, whereas massages go into a grey area that isn’t illegal by law, though it might be illegal by religious law. Seeing as how this place never hires foreigners, there’s an extremely low chance of it being raided by immigration, so overall it’s a safe place for me to go.
The most basic extra usually costs 50 bucks: it’s having permission to fondle your masseuse’s titts. Some girls will allow you to grope her only over her top, some will undress for you, some might even let you suck on her titts. Some will titfuck you, some might go as far as blowing you, and the rare few will offer to fuck you (again, their bosses do NOT allow this so the girl could get fired. Plus, I don’t like fucking quietly, so I’m not looking to fuck anyone when I go for a massage. The whole point of a massage is to have someone take care of you while you just lay there resting).
In my opinion, this is the stage where you see whether or not the masseuse you’re with is sensual or just basic. The basic ones will grab your cock and just start jacking you off.
The good ones, the ones with skill, understand how to start slow and slowly escalate. They know how to massage you in such a way that can only be described as art. Some even use traditional massage techniques that honestly do have health benefits, like increasing bloodflow and such. Where up til now, you could assess them based on their massaging ability, at this stage their handjob skills are what comes into focus.
Over the years, I’ve exercised a lot of creativity during this stage. Some girls are more willing to play along than others, though I don’t blame the non-compliant, seeing as how some of my ideas are pretty kinky for a masseuse used to only giving out handjobs.
Sometimes, I’d get them to lay next to me on the message table so I can cuddle/be cuddled as they jack me off. There was once where I would turn around so my legs were against the wall behind the table, just so I could position myself in a way that my cock was almost above my face pointed right at my mouth (guess why).
Everything that I described in my outercourse confession article, I’ve tried with masseuses as well. I’ve fucked tits, mouths, I’ve even put a masseuse’s feet together and slid my cock between them while she giggled watching me.
My favourite ‘add-on experience’?
There was one time when I was the only customer in the whole place when the boss told my masseuse through the curtain that he was going out to buy food. As soon as he left, an idea popped into my head that I just could not let go of.
I asked her to call her best friend (from among the girls chillin around in the waiting room). Since the place was empty, I pulled open the curtain that covered my cubicle, and I told my masseuse that I’d offer her friend a heavy tip to just stand there and watch me.
Oh god, the exhibitionist in me loved that situation. There I was with my masseuse on my right jacking me off, her tits right there for me to do with as I pleased. Standing right in front of the massage table was another girl (another masseuse who’s also familiar with me), smiling as she watched me make faces of agony while her BFF had my hard cock in her oiled-up hands.
The cherry on top? The place was empty, so for once in all the years I’ve been going there, I could cum as loud as I wanted. And cum loudly is what I did, while CONSTANTLY maintaining intense eye contact with the girl watching me from the edge of my massage table. Seconds before I collapsed, I smile at her and said ‘Thank you’. She smiled back, took her tip, and closed the curtain so her BFF could clean me up.
Though that is my favourite ‘happy ending’, there are others depending on my creativity, and depending on the girl massaging me. Lately, the girl I’ve always been getting massages from has been kind enough to cater to my cum-eating fetish. I respect this woman greatly, not only because of her massaging and cock-jerking abilities, but because whenever I suggest something she just nods and plays along, making me feel like she’s my teammate in this whole experience. Her great enthusiasm almost makes me feel like I’m not tipping her enough!
Usually, she knows that when I’m going to cum, she’ll cup her other hand next to my cock to catch all of my cum. The moment my cock’s emptied she’ll bring her hand to my mouth, which I’d open wide like a hungry bird, and she’d empty all of my spunk into my mouth.
There was one time when I paid her extra for a blowjob happy ending instead, with one extra request.
Can you guess what I asked her to do?
Come on. You should know me well enough by now.
That woman sucked every last drop of hot cum from my cock, and when she could sense that I wasn’t pumping out any more, she moved her mouth right above mine…
….and she let it all fall out down into my eager open mouth.
It made me feel so dirty. It made me feel so filthy. But it made me feel dirty and filthy, in all the right ways.
After a few minutes of regaining my senses, I’ll get dressed, thank my masseuse with a kiss on the cheek or forehead, and then I’ll walk out. A quick thank-you to the boss as he buzzes the door open for me, and I leave into the night.
I leave relaxed after having received a very skillful massage, and I also leave drained after having channeled some of my pent up sexual energy.
Whatever masseuse I get, whatever ideas I talk her into helping me with, in all of these cases the story always has a happy ending.