Massage and Happy Endings

massage happy endings

happy endings at a Massage Parlor

A few nights ago, while waiting for my lover to arrive, I decided to get a little massage to kill time. The neighborhood where they live has tons of massage parlors and I had had a long day spanking booties. What better than to lay back for a little while and let someone massage my tired shoulders and aching feet?

I choose a random shop and ring the bell. A pretty young Asian woman opens the door and asks me what I want.

“Oh, just a 30 minute massage to relax a bit,” I respond.

“Come in. Would you like a cup of tea,” she offers.

“Thank you, that would be great.”

She asks me to follow her down a narrow staircase. The place is a bit seedy, in need of a fresh coat of paint, but very clean. I see a bottle of the same disinfectant that I use in my studio on a counter in the hall, a stack of freshly washed towels, slightly worn but ironed sheets in a basket.

She leads me into a small room equipped with a mat on the floor and asks me to undress and drink my tea. I comply.

massage happy endings

As I settle in, I take in the surroundings: a small Buddha statue in one corner with a candle and a few sticks of incense sitting as his feet as an offering. I’ve always appreciated that tradition of some cultures where there is a daily ritual of presenting some sort of gift to their god/dess.

There is a bottle of hydro-alcoholic gel and a box of masks sitting on a low table, the ever-present items during this period where we must be so diligent due to a strange virus that has taken the world by surprise. There is also a large bottle of massage oil and an essential oil diffuser that emits soft clouds of lightly perfumed steam. On a lower shelf, there are a few folded hand towels and a box of disposable gloves.

I finish my tea and begin to undress. The walls are covered in a dark patterned wallpaper and there is a painting of Buddha. I fold my clothes, place them in a corner and lie face down on the mat. I can already feel my breathing becoming deeper as I settle in.

The young woman knocks softly on the door and comes in, checking that I’m warm enough then begins to massage my feet. For my foot fetishists, you know how much I appreciate a good foot massage and this lady is excellent. She slowly works her way up my calves, thighs and back, alternating between deep, intense strokes and more delicate caresses. I occasionally emit a soft sigh of pleasure as I drift in and out of a semi-sleep state.

After a few minutes, she asks me to turn over and begins the process on the other side, starting at my feet and slowly working her way up my body. As she reaches the place where my legs join my torso, I feel her expert hands exploring near my sex. I open my eyes and she asks if I would like her to continue to concentrate on that area.

“Sure,” I say. What better way to really relax than a quick orgasm, I think to myself.

“It’s 20€ extra,” she says.

“Yes, no problem.”

She takes a glove from the box, expertly slips it on and starts to focus on that area that is the source of so much pleasure. I quickly orgasm, excited by the situation as much as the physical stimulation. She removes the glove and continues to massage my torso, breasts, chest and finally my head.

After, we chat a bit and she asks me what I do for a living. I tell her that I’m a sex worker, as well, but she doesn’t quite grasp the concept of what a Domme does. Between the language barrier that exists between us (she has a minimal knowledge of French and English and I don’t know a word of Thai) and it generally being a difficult idea for people to understand if they’re not in the lifestyle, it’s not easy to explain. Despite this, she giggles as she grasps the idea that I, too, see a lot of naked men who are looking to escape from their daily routine for a few minutes to find pleasure.

She leaves the room and I get dressed, leaving a €50 bill on the table. I imagine that the extra €30 will be appreciated. I know it always is when one of my clients does the same.

I go upstairs, bid her goodnight and thank her for the massage.

“It was a pleasure to massage a colleague,” she says. “Please come back soon.”

Two happy endings to this story: my orgasm and creating a bond with a colleague, even if it was only for a few minutes.

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