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A Massage Experience That Didn’t End as Expected
So, money was a bit tight, but I always considered my weekly massages an essential indulgence for my physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. Honestly, there’s something liberating about being completely naked and having every part of your body pampered. But as life got busier—after selling my house and going through the family court process—my “me” time took a hit. My weekly movie nights dwindled, and my massages shifted from weekly to monthly, then eventually to just a quarterly treat.
I still looked forward to my spa visits, even if they had become more spontaneous. Recently, while driving home, I spotted a new spa that was surprisingly close to my place. It looked inviting from the outside, so I thought, why not? I turned my car around, pulled into the parking lot, and was greeted by an old-school neon sign—could be a good or bad omen, I thought. I shrugged it off; what’s the worst that could happen?
As soon as I opened the door, a cheerful lady appeared from behind the counter as if she were a life-sized jack-in-the-box. She was in her 50s, Asian, and had a huge smile. She quickly took my coat and led me down a dimly lit hallway with rooms tucked behind curtains. At the end, she opened a curtain and invited me in.
“How much for an hour?” I asked.
“Sixty dollars,” she replied.
I handed her a $100 bill—I prefer tipping upfront for better service. She thanked me, and as I settled in, she instructed me to undress and lie face down. The room was dark, lit only by a few candles, with soothing music in the background.
By the time she returned, I was ready, lying on the table, and as she began, I could tell she was going to be thorough. She asked if I preferred a hard or soft touch and started working on my back. I melted into the table. She wasn’t shy at all, spending quite a bit of time on my butt and thighs. I thought, “Hmm, this is different.” I enjoyed it, but then she asked me to flip over, and her comfort level with my nakedness was even more pronounced. I wasn’t sure if the towel was in the right place, but I decided to just go with it.
As the massage continued, I realized this was a legitimate establishment—she simply took her job very seriously. When the timer buzzed to signal the end, she finished with some rhythmic hand chops across my body.
“Would you like some water?” she asked as she left the room. I nodded, grateful, and as I got dressed, she returned with a Styrofoam cup. I took a sip and complimented her on the massage. She stood close, smiling silently.
And then, all of a sudden, she leaned in to kiss me. My heart raced. What was happening? I didn’t want to be rude, but making out with my older masseuse was not on my agenda. My mind raced, and in a moment of panic, I leaned in too, aiming for the corner of her mouth to keep things unawkward.
That’s when I realized—she was not trying to kiss me; she was adjusting my collar! We both froze, and she pulled back, forcing a smile as I scrambled to exit. I dashed out of there and haven’t returned since.
So, there you have it—a massage experience that took an unexpected turn! If you’re curious about home insemination options, there’s a great resource available at WomensHealth.gov, and you might also want to check out this informative piece on artificial insemination kits.
Summary:
Money was tight, but the weekly massage was an essential reset for me. After discovering a new spa, I experienced a massage that took an unexpected turn when my masseuse leaned in, leading to an awkward moment. I learned to embrace spontaneity, but I haven’t returned since.