Manual therapy and Massage

My physician send me for treatment of (lower) back problems to a professional massage therapy center. Luckily, my therapist turned out to be a very good looking young woman. She asked specific questions about my "troubles" and then told me to lie on my stomach on the massage table. She then proceeded the manual therapy by pressing various spots starting on my neck and shoulders, working her way slowly to my lower back. Occasionally her hair would brush over my back and this, together with her touch, made me very hard and I felt quite excited. After about half an hour she announced that the treatment was finished and I should turn on my back. she then went and returned with a hot fango mud package, placed it on the table and told to me to lie back. There still was my excitement visible and while placing a blanket around me she "accidently" brushed this part. With a smile she left me alone and said good-bye until the next appointment.

While on vacation, I also unexpectedly had a very erotic experience at what was supposed to be a straight massage clinic (not a 'parlor.') Though the setting was beautiful, I still felt emotionally and physically tied in knots from the week before, and hadn't been able to relax. A friend suggested a massage from a local provider. I had never had a massage, and as far as I knew, there was no licensing of massage therapists in that country, so I was skeptical. When I hesitated, though, my friend said, "Don't worry, the massages here are completely non-sexual. You won't be doing anything you couldn't tell your wife."

When I went in for my massage, I was surprised to see that the therapist was an attractive young Filipina. She led me into the massage room and told me to take off my shirt and pants, and lay on the table, and she'd be back shortly. I kicked off my socks and shoes, and put my shirt and jeans on the coat rack, then lay down on my stomach, with my briefs still in place.

When she came back in, she asked me if I would like oil, which sounded fine. She worked on my back for a long time, then moved to my lower back with deep pressure (which was heaven), and started pressing on my hips.

After a minute, she paused, with her fingertips at the waistband of my briefs. "Would you mind if I pulled these down while I work on your hips?" I told her she could, and lifted up, though what she actually did was to pull them down and slide them off entirely. Except for medical exams, I had never been naked with another woman since getting married, but I reminded myself it was all a semi-medical procedure. Still, I could feel myself getting hard, especially when she put her hands on my hips and began rocking my pelvis from side to side.

After she finished working on the backs of my legs and my feet, she brought out a towel and asked me to roll over, keeping my body out of sight behind the towel. When I was on my back, she lowered the towel, and then pulled down the portion that had covered my chest and giggled, then stroked and patted my pecs. "You have a sexy body," she whispered.

By the time she was working on my stomach, my penis was rock hard and I was afraid it was rather obvious. I wondered if it might even be protruding from the top of the towel, but didn't look down to check. She seemed to notice my discomfort and paused, with her hand on the towel over my penis. "I think I know what you need."

"Uhh... that's not..."

She began kneading my penis through the towel. "Don't you want me to? You have a girlfriend back at the hotel?" She kneaded more firmly.

"No, I don't... "

She smiled, kissed me on the forehead, and lifted the towel away. The trickle of oil down the shaft of my penis felt exquisite, though it was nothing compared to her expert stroking. The results were explosive.

She wiped me down and used hot, wet towels to clean me. She mentioned that she very rarely gives orgasms to her clients, but that she wanted to this time, and there was no need to pay her anything more than the regular $25 listed outside as her fee.

Though I felt very guilty about what I'd allowed to happen, I loved all the sensations involved in the massage, from start to finish.

I've started taking classes in massage, to learn the basics, and began offering massages, including an erotic component, to my wife. She loves them... though she has never shown any interest in learning to give them.

Thanks for the interesting and detailed story, Parker. You really set the mood very well. I feel sorry for your wife, though in that she doesn't want to learn massage. I can't imagine anything nicer or more fulfilling than giving my partner pleasure.

Lady Teddy, Pacific Northwest, USA

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

A licensed massage therapist did that? How much did you pay? You certainly remember a lot of detail including conversation. Have you embellished the truth just a little?

The conversations are as close to word for word as memory allows, and as for what happened, the therapist provided all of this and more.

I've thought about her, and how all this began, many times. My memory isn't photographic, but for strongly emotional experiences, it's pretty close to that.

Her fee was $50 for a one-hour massage, but needless to say, once this kind of session became our norm, I paid her more than that. Serena was a highly skilled masseuse... the sexual aspect of each session usually lasted about 10-15 minutes, and the rest was normal, excellent Swedish massage.

If so the activity was tantamount to prostitution. I'm really surprised she charged so little. She really could have charged all the traffic would bear.

Serena charged $50 for a one-hour massage without any sexual aspect. You may define what she offered to some of her clients, myself included, as prostitution, if you like, but she did not offer intercourse or oral sex, and she did not have any set 'fees' for sexual interaction with her selected clients. Instead, she told me that I could pay her whatever I thought was appropriate. I think that most prostitutes would not recognize this approach, being highly motivated to get clients to purchase special services at high prices.

Serena was (and still is, as far as I know) a very loving person, and she was definitely a good friend. I have never met anyone like her, before or since. I would encourage people reading this to think outside of simple categories.

She must have "loved " a lot of clients. I wonder what was in it for her? Of course a lot of massage places in my area do offer "happy endings ". Very interesting.

She certainly wasn't primarily about money, as the details make fairly clear. So what else was in it for her? I think I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I definitely recognize empathic joy when I see it.

Okay if you say so. Sounded as if she was mixing business with pleasure though.

In my opinion, many wise people choose for their work something that they thoroughly enjoy.

That's true for a lot of careers obviously. I'm told that it's not true for sex workers though. Oh sorry I forgot she wasn't one of those. I'm sorry I just have too much time on my hands today. My bad.

I think that if you get into what's known about people who (steadily, or sometimes) take money for sex work, you'll find that they're a pretty diverse bunch... ranging from victims of human trafficking who desperately want out (being essentially modern day slaves) to, well, *her*...

http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/im-a-sex-worker-in-a-legal-brothel--here-are-the-five-biggest-misconceptions-about-what-i-do-10460454.html (e.g., her points 4 and 5)

...and to people like Serena, who are willing to take some extra money for a sexual interaction woven into another service, but for whom the money isn't even close to the main thing. Or the woman who trained me in erotic aspects of tantric massage, shortly thereafter: who had taken $65 per lesson to train me, but offered to continue my training for free when my daughter developed a life-threatening, expensive-to-treat illness, and I couldn't afford to continue paying what I'd been paying. My teacher loved working with me, and seeing someone new gaining expertise in giving pleasure to others, and she didn't care if I couldn't pay her any longer.

Bottom line (no pun intended)... people who've taken money for sex work are people, and they come (OK, pun intended, and yes, some of them do come) in all shapes and in a wide variety of motives for the work. I'm not an expert: I'm not a client of prostitutes, and I've *never* paid for intercourse, but the diversity seems clear to me, and to a lot of people who write about the subject on the basis of research with representative samples.

I can understand your skepticism, L.S., but you don't know Serena, and I don't think you'd be cynical about her, if you did.

Sorry but I think that link doesn't represent the usual sex worker. I've encountered many prostitutes in my work. They are not the "happy hookers" we'd like to believe they are. They're desperate for money and stem their fears with drugs. They're bullied by their pimps. It's a desperate unhappy life they lead.

No sweat, L.S. ... I've enjoyed the discussion. It's pretty thought-provoking to consider different reasons why someone might even consider a paid sexual interaction in a profession where such is supposedly verboten.

And I don't want to discount what you said... Not wanting to be the guy who fell off the turnip truck the day before, it did occur to me at the time that I could have been gullible (as in, "I bet you say that to *all* the guys, Serena..." )

But those thoughts quickly became dry leaves carried away on sweetly perfumed winds. Serena earned my trust many times over. She was a sincere friend who truly loved me (as I did her, though we were never 'in love'), and I knew that she loved what she was doing with the few of us who were her special clients. Some things just can't be faked.

I do agree that from what I've read, most sex workers *aren't* 'happy hookers'... there seems to be very little question about that. (Hence my earlier comment about, for example, trafficked women, who desperately need help.)

But neither is there any question about the existence of exceptions... and the category of sex workers has fuzzier boundaries than might be apparent, at first.

Hey, what happened to your post of about an hour ago...?

Well, anyway, L.S., I hope all is well with you in whatever you search for... P.

I dropped white out on my phone! lol

"Can you remove your pants please"

Female doc massaging another female doc's....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GC4Z6Yrr38o

Business trips sometimes have me in Tokyo for several days at a time. One late evening in August, I was especially tired and sore. I had noticed at the registration desk that my hotel offered an in-room massage service, as many hotels in Japan do (no sex is implied, by the way), 6000 yen for 60 minutes.

I took a long shower, scrubbing carefully, then had a hot soak in the deliciously deep bathtub, finished with another rinse. Then I had to decide what to wear. I ended up going with my own cotton summer men's kimono, which I'd bought there on an earlier trip (the little guest robes the hotel provided were too short for me), wearing nothing underneath it. It was about 10pm by this point.

I called the front desk and asked for the massage service. About 15 minutes later, there was a Japanese lady whom I'd guess to be about 51-52, at my door. She spoke no English and I speak only a little Japanese, but I knew how to welcome someone and invite her in. After I closed the door, she gestured for me to lie face down on the bed. She got on the bed next to me and began with light, then increasingly intense fingertip pressure to my shoulders, back and hips, with magically strong hands. All of this was done through the cotton of my kimono. She continued by getting on top me and using her weight and knees to melt away tension in tight spots in my back and hips. She was really good at this.

I don't remember the exact sequence, but she spoke at several points and with gestures helped me to understand that she needed me to raise up or change position so she could lift or pull away a portion of the kimono and access my bare skin (my back, at first.) She continued with shiatsu...to the bared area, again, very strong and incredibly good at it. She would re-cover a treated area before going on to another...e.g., having me get back into the upper part of my kimono after she was done with my now-glowing back, then pulling up one sleeve at a time to work on my arms.

Eventually, after a few more strong five-fingertip presses into my hips, through the cotton, she lifted up the bottom of my kimono and accessed my own bare bottom directly. No funny business (I neither asked for any nor expected any), but it felt wonderful. She left my hips bare as she worked on the backs of my legs and my feet, and as she brought each foot in turn to the hip. I wondered how much of the rest of me was visible as she did the latter.

She lowered my kimono again, tucking it across my thighs, and asked me to turn over. I was careful not to create an international incident as I turned, using one hand to make sure it stayed closed in front. I settled back down, now face up.

She started on the tops of my legs, again beginning with through-clothes pressure, then moving just enough of the kimono out of the way for shiatsu to bare skin. I was motionless, with my arms at my sides. But to my surprise, when she started working on my left inner thigh (Heaven!), she also used her left hand to spread my legs farther. My kimono came open.

My head was on the pillow, but I could tell by the rush of cool air and the sensation of the cloth pulling away that my privates were fully exposed.

I wasn't hard, but I assumed that a bare penis was a no-no. I lifted my head and moved my hands to put matters to rights. But then I noticed that she seemed calm, was smiling slightly, and was still working on my inner thighs...one hand on each, bracketing my penis and scrotum. I asked her, "Daijobu desu ka?" (Is it OK?) She smiled again and said, "Hai, daijobu desu." She continued working on my inner thighs, taking quite a bit of time with that area. My penis was half-erect for most of this time. She never touched it, though, and I did not ask.

Finally, she closed me up, and leaned forward to pull open my kimono at the top, so she could work on my chest. Several times, her ministrations there involved pulling my kimono farther open, which in turn re-opened it below the thin obi belt at my waist. I guess cotton kimonos just aren't made for this. The first time my penis and scrotum came into view again, she just calmly covered them up. But she did the same thing again, a couple of minutes later, pulling my upper kimono farther open and off my shoulders, and we were back to the same situation: open trade from the northern latitudes to the southern tropics. She just smiled and left things as they were.

After exactly 60 minutes of great massage, she closed my kimono again, and thanked me. I tried to pay her 8000 yen instead of 6000 (even though I know that tipping is not customary in Japan), but she smiled and quickly shooed that away, bowing, just accepted the 6000, bowed again and said goodnight.

Someone later told me that the lady could actually have been offended by the tip, which might be seen as me offering something extra for an "extra service." But not in this case, it seems...I called for another massage the next night, and it was the same smiling lady.

This time, she was even more relaxed about the nudity (obviously, she knew I wasn't going to jump her), and after she had me turn onto my back, she just opened my kimono completely, leaving the obi belt tied across my tummy, and me completely exposed, this time asking *me*, "Daijobu desu ka?" (Of course, that was fine with me.). Still no hand service to my penis or scrotum, none offered or requested (lots of inner thigh work, though.) But I loved being naked under the eyes and hands of this gentle, highly skilled lady.

In Bangkok for a conference (first time here), and it's true that massage facilities, varying widely in appearance and approach, are everywhere: anything from holes in the wall that leave little doubt as to their special services (there's a pink-neoned place called "Love Massage" just a stone's throw from my hotel, but it looks seedy and I'm giving it a wide berth), to very clean establishments (usually decorated in earth tones, with conservatively dressed staff out front) specializing in Thai massage...and I've seen quartets of businesswomen drop in for same en masse.

I just came back from one of the latter, located in an arcade on the ground floor of the building that houses my hotel (not the overpriced spa in the hotel itself), and was very pleased... Having already had a Thai massage yesterday, I asked for an oil massage this time. The therapist, a Thai woman on her early thirties, showed me past a row of Thai massage berths to a small, quiet room in the rear with a massage table, then asked me to remove all of my clothes, rings, etc., and to wear only a tiny, very sheer set of briefs that she provided. She left me to change, and returned after I said, "OK."

What made this massage especially delightful was the way she made use of the tiny briefs. She started with me on my stomach, as most do, and after a few initial caresses to my feet and some preliminary strokes to back and legs through a thick towel, she lifted the towel away...and pleasantly astonished me by immediately slipping her fingers inside the sheer briefs and gently pulling them down all the way past my hips. She tucked a small towel into the waistband to keep them from slipping back up, and began a long series of deep oiled strokes into each buttock...not trying to turn me on (it's usually pretty obvious, when that's the goal), but treating my hips as just a part of my body that needs massage, like any other. Very matter of fact, gentle and attentive...and not making a big deal about it if her breasts needed to come into contact with my body for a particular angle for her strokes to work.

She did the same thing when attending to other parts of the body that most U.S.-based massage therapists resolutely ignore, like the inner thighs: again, pulling the sheer briefs out of the way and tucking them into place with a small towel, nestled against my balls, then lots of deep, delightful strokes to the inner thighs themselves, followed by rubbing the oil away, including from the sides of my scrotum.

After she had me turn onto my back, my pulse went up a little, wondering if the same technique...yes, she did exactly the same thing, rolling my sheer briefs almost all the way down in front, past my pubic mound, and then tucking them in with the small towel just above my penis, with my pubic hair fully exposed. She gave a generous amount of attention to my lower belly (a lot like deep palpation, something I love) and pubes: two more areas most LMTs avoid like they were plutonium.

And she wasn't shy about letting her own lower belly and pubic mound rest against me as she worked. No come-on, never a touch to my shaft itself, and nothing inside my cleft....just relaxed good rapport and comfort with her body and mine...she knew I wasn't going to ask her for any "extras," and I knew she wasn't trying to steer me that way.

The whole experience was very sweet, natural, and erotic in an innocent way.

With my wife's permission, I did visit a less innocent (but well-reviewed and human trafficking-free) establishment to try a Nuru massage...but that will be in another post.

There's a local spa where I go when I need shiatsu and other deep tissue work, to relieve lower back pain. (I have a good chiropractor, but that and yoga classes sometimes aren't enough.) One of the masseuses at the spa is much more highly skilled than the others. She also happens to be the cutest... slender, sweet, in her early 30's, and with beautiful long, dark hair... but happy coincidences are the spice of life. I wouldn't keep asking for her if she weren't also so very good at what she does.

"Samantha" always has me undress completely while she's out of the room, and get under a towel, lying face down. When she returns, she first works on me through the towel, including shiatsu; creating moving pressure with her elbows and lower arms; walking on my back; and standing with one foot on a hip, the other at a point near the opposite shoulder blade, alternating her weight from foot to foot.

Then, she lowers the towel to leave my back and the upper 60% of my hips bare, adds oil with smooth strokes of her hands, and continues the deep tissue work. She sometimes puts hot compresses on my lower back and hips, too.

As with rolfing, the level of pressure that Samantha applies is sometimes right on the edge of pain, and I'll be thinking that either she eases up in another 15 seconds or I'll ask her to stop (never had to, though), but the results are wonderful.

While face down, I especially enjoy those of her strokes across my hips that open up my cleft, and while those strokes always happen, they are all too few.

I've noticed something about Samantha's approach to nudity and to my body work in particular, which is why I'm sharing it here. She mostly follows what seem to be the house rules about nudity in most American spas: such as placing the folded towel over the client's butt-cleft when working on an individual hip and upper thigh, and tucking a smaller towel into place when the client is on his back and she's working an inner thigh, so that the client's scrotum is not accidentally exposed during her strokes.

But if there's a particular technique she thinks she needs to use that involves the client being naked, she dispenses with the rules and goes with that technique.

For example, after Samantha finishes working on the front of one of my legs, she does something to produce a maximum stretch in my glute. From the lower side of the massage table, she lifts and holds my foot, then leans in, forcing a deep bend in my knee, until my thigh is pressed into my chest. The towels over my pelvis always lift with my thigh, and there is no way she's missing even one square centimeter of my exposed nutsack and rectum.

She doesn't hurry, while I'm there, though, and I never ask her to.

Samantha also likes to stand behind me, turning me on my side and hand-on-ankle, lifting my top leg from that position, then rotating it several times. She keeps a few fingertips on the towel, so it doesn't completely drop away behind me, but it's delicious to feel the cool air of the room on my exposed cock and belly, being completely naked in front, while she performs her move just behind me.

The mirror on one side of the room will give her my full frontal view when she has me on my right side, if she looks... but I've never been able to tell whether she looks or not.

Toward the end of the massage, Samantha always puts me in a reclined twist: extending one of my legs, then lifting the other so that my hips are facing her tummy, with one of her hands at my waist and the other pressing my bent leg across my pelvis. This often produces a wonderful adjustment in my lower back.

That move also has me completely naked, while she does it... there is no way a towel could stay in place when I'm in that position, nor do I miss it. I love the feeling of being fully naked while she's leaning across me from behind.

Once my bent knee is out past the opposite leg as far as it will go, Samantha always gives me three swats to my bare lower back, with her fingertips reaching my upper cleft as each swat lands.

Without attempting to re-cover me with the towel, she then repeats the whole procedure on the other side.

It's a nice bonus to an enchanting and very therapeutic experience, each time.

Of course, I tip her well.

Samantha has never offered to touch any more sensitive areas, and I've never asked her. She avoids the abdomen altogether, as many LMTs do, and the only times she's ever stroked a side of my scrotum, it was by accident.

I've noted from their signs that this spa opens at 10am and stays open until 2am. So I'm guessing that there are other ladies who come on duty at night who are more open to such things. Certainly, at those hours, there would be clients who would ask them to. But I'm happy just keeping my relationship with this spa, and with Samantha, as it is.

I'll admit to fantasizing about her on the drive home: what it would be feel like to hold her, and testing my guess about the nipples on her A-cup breasts being dark... and wondering whether Samantha would come back at those late-night hours for a regular client. At one point, the receptionist asked me if I wanted to see Samantha at 11:30pm, when I called and asked for an 11:30 appointment. (I meant "a.m.," of course.) I had to swallow hard not to let out the words, "Yes, I would love to see Samantha at 11:30pm," and just made my morning appointment.

But a fantasy is all it will be. I'm just grateful that she is comfortable enough with nudity to do what needs to be done.

I went to Japan for business once and wanted to get a professional massage for my leg and lower back pain, always gets worse after a long flight. I found a place where an older Japanese woman massaged me. She was friendly and instructed me to strip to my underwear. Her English was OK but instead of focusing on my hamstrings and buttocks she started by massaging my front side, so I wasnt sure if she understood what I wanted. Eventually she turned me over and focused on my calves and backs of my thighs but didn't go as high as my glutes which I wanted massaged, like deep tissue.

But then as she started at my shoulders she made her way down my back and after massaging my lower back, she lowered my underwear to the bottom of my cheeks, saying “excuse me sir”. With my bottom fully exposed I assumed OK now finally I'm going to get the proper shiatsu type massage for my buttocks (glutes). Instead, straddling my legs, she used the heels of her hands to press into my cheeks and outward, pretty much spreading my cheeks open as wide as possible each time. Maybe that's one way to massage the glutes but usually there is more to it than that, in my experience. She did it about 20 times and that was the end of my massage.

So I ended up not feeling totally satisfied with the massage and also with the sensation that this lady spent the last 5 minutes of my massage looking at my bottom, anus, perineum, and part of my testicles for that matter. I mean, I couldn't have been more exposed. Though of course she could have been looking at the wall for all I know. It was strange.

It wasn't bad, but I never got another massage in Japan. I'm definitely envious of some of the masseuses others here have found!

@Parker

Regarding your comment “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.)”, have you recounted this story yet on Zity?

Regarding your comment “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.)”, have you recounted this story yet on Zity?

@RichardAsni

Here you go, Post 70…

https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=forum;ox=display;msg=1077887;mark=Serena%2Ckiss