I would like to tell forum members about my introduction to patterned, loving erotic massage, and the sweet, open-minded licensed therapist who made it possible. With apologies for the length...
This story is true, by the way... only the massage therapist's name has been changed.
An Unexpected Gift
Years ago, my wife was in a phase in which she didn't want sex, or even much in the way of cuddling. I respected her need to have some time to herself, but after several weeks, I confessed that I felt like I was starving for touch, and kept thinking of getting a massage.
SHE: "You should. Why not?"
ME: "You don't understand. I'd only go to licensed massage therapists, but I'm concerned that I'd get sexually aroused during a massage."
SHE (looking thoughtful): "I think you are limiting yourself too much, if you shy away from something natural just because of what you might feel. We all feel 'turned on,' at times... sometimes just seeing a really attractive person can do it. Though touching is not what I want at the moment, being touched is healthy, and if you got aroused, so what? There's nothing wrong with feeling turned on. I trust you not to have intercourse with these women, and anything else is fine." She smiled. "But if you do get turned on by these massages, I do not want to hear about it. That's just for you."
Surprised, but happy with the gift of her permission, I made an appointment with a local licensed massage therapist whom I'll call Serena. She described her approach as a combination of effleurage (soothing strokes) and petrissage (deep tissue massage.) Serena was an attractive woman in her early forties, greeting me with a sweet smile, and wearing a tied blouse, short shorts made from cut-off jeans, and sandals. She quickly put me at ease.
She told me she always asked her clients to shower, handed me a towel, and asked me to return to the massage room wearing it.
I did so, and found that she had prepared the massage table. She dimmed the lights as I looked for a place to hang the towel.
One thing that surprised me was that Serena remained in the room while I took off the towel... she simply kept her gaze elsewhere, mostly. Her aspect conveyed the message that being naked was no big deal. Still, I took some care to cover my penis, and then lowered myself to her table and the towel that covered it, and finally pulled the sheet into place.
Serena began by massaging my body through the sheet, then folded the top half down so that the sheet just covered my hips, legs and feet. She pumped oil and rubbed it into her hands, and then began a wonderful series of caresses, strokes and flowing presses into the muscles of my back and upper arms.
When it came time to work on my hips and the backs of my legs, she surprised me by lifting away the sheet entirely (so that I was completely exposed for one thrilling moment) and setting it aside, and then covered my hips and legs with a large white towel.
Despite her move with the sheet, Serena took care not to expose private areas for long. I was impressed by how she carefully folded the towel so that it covered 55% of my hips, including (barely) my cleft, and tucked it in to enclose my scrotum, while she worked on my hips. She massaged each hip cheek in turn, and her combination of light oiled strokes followed by deeper massage into the hip muscles, felt heavenly. I felt myself getting hard, but carefully kept my breathing under control, and as I was face down, I felt sure my secret was safe. Serena and I also talked during the massage, keeping everything casual.
Still, I could feel a touch of pre-cum at the tip of my penis, and knew that it was moistening the towel underneath me. I hoped that I could cover it with my hips when it was time to turn over, and that it would have time to dry before I left the massage table. (It occurred to me to wonder if this was why she used towels both above and below the hips.)
The heavenly sensations continued as Serena worked on the backs of my legs, and especially as she stroked my inner thighs, followed by strokes and deep pressure to my calf muscles. I remember being a little ill at ease (and even more excited), afraid that the towel would slip away, as she lifted each leg in turn, brought the heel to my hips, and then stretched out the leg again, shaking it, three times for each leg. This series of moves would have exposed my slightly wet and more-than-slightly hard penis, if the towel did slip. But it stayed mostly in place.
Using a fresh towel, she rubbed the oil off my back, hips and legs, and then lifted the sheet into place between us, asking me to turn over. My erection had slightly subsided, and she couldn't see it, in any case, but it was very exciting to have only a thin sheet separating my naked body from such a beautiful woman.
Her massage of my chest and arms passed uneventfully, but then she moved on to an area that I did not realize at the time, most licensed therapists will not touch. Serena worked on my belly and lower abdomen. Though I did find it very exciting to have this lovely woman's hands palpating me and stroking my belly, and felt my penis swelling back to a full erection (she didn't say anything about this, though she must have noticed), it didn't go any farther than that.
Not in my first massage, at least, and not during the next several massages, either.
Serena was very reassuring. After my fourth or fifth massage, when I was getting dressed, she asked me...
SERENA: "Parker? I could feel you pulling back, emotionally, during the massage. Is everything all right?"
ME: "Yes. It's just that, sometimes, I can feel myself getting aroused, and I'm afraid you can tell."
SERENA: "I can, but why would that worry you? Are you afraid for me to see you aroused?"
ME: "Not exactly... but..."
SERENA: "But what?"
ME: "What if I feel myself starting to come, as you touch me? Should I push you away?"
SERENA (shaking her head, softly): "No, no. Just let it happen."
And one afternoon, after I'd been Serena's client for several months, it did happen (though not in exactly that way.)
Another Unexpected Gift
By that point, my wife and I hadn't had sex in months. When I came in for a massage, I was uncomfortable in multiple ways. Serena seemed to pick up on this, though she said nothing. After about half an hour of working on my back, hips and legs, as usual, she had me turn over, lowered the towel and folded it so that its edge was just below my navel. Also as usual, she started to work on my upper shoulders and chest, the continued by stroking my belly and palpating my lower abdomen. It wasn't long before I realized I had actually rolled my hips this time (and quickly stopped it.) My cock was stiffening: its tip only just covered (I hoped) by the towel at that point. Had I actually moaned? I hoped not.
Serena didn't need any more encouragement. Imagine my astonishment when, after pressing more deeply into my abdomen, Serena began a series of rapid, flat-palm strokes, with light pressure applied only during the downward motion... and the strokes went far under the towel. Her palm rubbed right across my pubis with each rapid stroke, stropping my pubic hair. With only a few of these strokes, my penis became rock hard, and though it was still under the towel, it was in contact with the top of her hand on each stroke. There was no way Serena could not be feeling my hot penis against her rapidly moving hand. I could not believe that this beautiful woman was stimulating me in this way, but this was no dream.
Serena continued the strokes... 10... 15... (no, I wasn't counting, but it could not have been fewer...)
I did groan, this time, and I rolled my hips again... stopping both only by sheer force of will.
Serena responded by slowing down her strokes, then removing her hand from under the towel. She returned her hand to my stomach, where she rested it lightly, and again, palpated gently into my lower abdomen.
As Serena finally lifted her hand, she took something from the counter. She next carefully, partially raised the towel, and I saw her place a dry brown washcloth underneath it. I felt her drape it across my penis, as I shivered. The rough texture slipping across my member almost made me come, then and there.
She lifted the towel away, and I watched her fold the washcloth down into a triangle that only just covered my public hair, my penis and my scrotum, and nothing else. I had only that tiny, folded washcloth between me and total exposure beneath her lovely gaze. But I wondered whether her rapid stroking of my pubis might simply have been part of a normal routine for massaging the belly, that she had somehow let go too low, in my case... only to discontinue it when she realized how my body was responding. I was still shivering. I needed her to complete what her hands had started, but it seemed that nothing of the sort would happen.
Serena continued her massage with strokes to the tops of my thighs and my inner thighs. We were both aware of my swollen erection under the washcloth, but I thought her careful (though erotic) folding of the cloth signaled her intent to avoid touching it again.
She completed a series of wonderful circular sweeping motions on my inner thighs, that left me fighting the urge to buck.
Then, disbelieving, I felt the sides of her hands slide UNDER the folded cloth, moving through my pubic hair again, and into the creases where my thighs met my sac. As yet, she avoided touching my penis, though it was carried back with each descent of her hands. She gently massaged my scrotum in this way, and at the apex of each double stroke, her fingertips caressed my perineum and the swells of my inner hips. Her hands would then slide back through my creases, along the sides of my scrotum, and her fingertips would curl into my pubic hair, before her hands descended again. It was the most exquisitely erotic sensation I had ever experienced.
I actually was moaning. She lifted the washcloth away. She placed my ultra-sensitive penis between the oiled index finger and middle finger of her right hand, pressed into it slightly with the sides of her fingers, and began stroking it rhythmically, as the fingertips of her left hand went to my rectum and pressed and circled it gently.
Hardly believing what was happening, with this beautiful woman's fingers stroking my most intimate areas, I came almost immediately, with an intensity that put my seed all across my belly, onto my chest, and reached my chin.
She continued stroking gently and smoothly, whispering, "It's OK... let it all out...," until I told her I couldn't take any more. She then carefully and gently lowered my penis, patted it, let her fingertips rest against that incredibly sensitive line from the perineum to the glans (the raphe), and smoothed a pool of semen across my belly, using it like massage oil.
With a final caress to my anus, she whispered, "Rest now."
A Loving Contract
Serena went to the sink, filled a little tub with hot water, and soaked the washcloth she'd set aside. Then she came back to the table and bathed me everywhere, carefully stroking away every trace of the semen. She returned with another hot washcloth for a lovingly delivered rinse, and patted me dry.
She rested one hand on my belly, inches away from my spent cock, and with the other, stroked me lightly on the side of my face.
I know my eyes were grateful, but I didn't know what to say.
Serena lifted her hands away, and covered me with a fresh towel. Then she came in close and spoke to me again in a near-whisper.
SERENA: "Parker, I know you didn't ask me to do that, but it seemed that you needed it. I can feel you pulling away, emotionally, but I hope you won't feel guilty. There's nothing wrong with having a climax."
ME: "You don't mind... ?"
SERENA (smiling quietly): "No. I only do that for clients I trust, and then, usually when their wives or girlfriends are away... kind of as a loving service. My daughter found out about it, and she asked me, 'But Mom, how is that different from being a prostitute?' I told her that I never allow a client to have intercourse with me. And I told her that in many traditions, that completes the massage." She smiled again. "Are you OK with receiving this?"
ME: "I think so. I even have my wife's permission to have massages even if I do get aroused, as long as I don't have intercourse with you. But I didn't think I'd actually come..."
SERENA: "I told you before, it's all right. Are you embarrassed to have a climax with me?"
ME: "Not embarrassed, exactly... I really enjoyed it. Thank you. I just wonder if it's wrong, with it happening deliberately..."
SERENA (whispering). "No... that's just that old society talking in your head. There's nothing wrong with it."
This experience opened a wonderful new level in my relationship with Serena. It was only the first of many new intimacies. Without our ever having intercourse (true to our boundaries), Serena became my erotic teacher. She introduced me to many practices that unlocked depths of my sexuality that I hadn't suspected.
Serena provided frequent massages with climaxes more intense than any I'd experienced before, along with caresses to many other parts of my body whose sensitivities came as a total surprise. She also performed massages that were designed to stimulate the chakras, and though I had earlier been skeptical about these 'energy centers' in the body, I had my first chakra openings (which left me in sweet tears) under her hands.
When Serena learned about my enlarged prostate, she began incorporating prostate massage into her practice with me; and the feeling of her loving fingers inside me... (but that's a story for another time.)
After a few months, Serena began allowing me partially to undress her and to touch her intimately as she brought me to climax.
And before we were done, she'd accepted me as a student of erotic massage, allowing me to practice the strokes and other techniques she was teaching me, on her totally nude body (even more beautiful than I'd ever imagined), in sessions lasting two to three hours. The feeling of bringing HER to climax... (but again, these are true stories for another time.)
Serena, perhaps most importantly, taught me what it feels like to be made love to, rather than always being the one making love. I had never experienced simply receiving pleasure, before.
I'm no longer married to the sweet wife whose permission made this possible (and we divorced for other reasons, not this), much though I tried to share what I'd learned. And my every relationship since has been shaped by Serena's loving instruction.
Though our therapist-teacher / client relationship eventually ended, as all beautiful things do, I will always be grateful to her.
With thanks for your listening, through all the detail...Parker