Hey guys. I wanted to tell you all about something that happened a last week. I think you will find the story worth the read. I’ll try to keep it short.
Before I get into it, a little about me. I’m a type-A workoholic who works in mergers and acquisitions for a prominent firm in New York City. Super exciting, I know. I’m in my early thirties with no wife or kids. Why? Because I just don’t have the time. I’ll date a girl for a few months and then move on. It is just something keep my parents off my back and fill my time when I’m not at work or at the gym. I’m six-one, just shy of 200lbs, dark hair, blue eyes, bla bla. Enough about me. Onto the story.
So I’m dating this girl, and I guess I would say, if I had to admit it, that I was feeling her a little more than the usual girls I date, but ultimately, she left just as things were getting serious, saying I just didn’t have the time for her or something. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention, but anyways, I was feeling a little off. I hit the gym up a little harder than normal to blow off some energy, but that wasn’t working. I considered joining Tinder, so I could find a fling to get this girl off my mind, but that just wasn’t me. I’ve dated plenty of women and had my player days, but I’ve never just hooked up with some chick I never knew, so I scratched that idea off the plate. The idea of going to the clubs wasn’t exactly appealing at my age, so I took my parents advice and drove upstate to the family lake house to get some R&R.
After a few days, I was feeling fairly restless. I had ran the lake and gone downhill mountain biking. I had hit the gym and relaxed in our sauna. It was winter, so the jet ski and boat was lifted and hibernated at our doc, and I had no interest in getting it down. After the second night of jerking off to porn and watching movies, I was feeling a need to get out of the house. I was suppose to be relaxing, but as I was going over a proposal for work, I was just feeling all knotted up with tension and stifled energy. I needed something more aggressive to help me relax.
I searched online for something to do, but I was out in the sticks, so there wasn’t much. They didn’t even have a theatre or anything close-by in the town I was in, except some biker bars. The closest city was about an hour away, and it was more like a large town than anything metropolitan. I was scanning for something to do. It was a Saturday night, so I saw a few clubs were open, but that still wasn’t my scene. I checked out what was playing, but nothing looked interesting. Then I saw a few late night massage parlors were open, and I realized that might be just the thing I needed. There was a cozy Thai parlor that had rave reviews with a picture of lovely older lady on the Yelp page. The reviews noted her authentic Thai technique of getting on the table to put her weight on the client, squeezing and stretching the client in a very Thai, yet sports massage, type of technique, which sounded exactly like what I needed.
I drove the hour and fifteen minutes to the parlor and quickly came inside to escape the freezing cold of the night. The entrance was thankfully very warm, and there was a young girl behind the counter who was hunched over and too preoccupied with her phone to notice me. She was slightly moving in rhythm to the music playing in her AirPods. She had dark, straight hair that was covering her face, and as I approached the counter, I could see down her blouse. She had petite and toned arms, typical of her youth, but her breasts were ample, hanging away from her petite torso, creating a deep crevasse of cleavage. She shivered and goosebumps rose along her arms from the gush of cold air that finally hit her. She looked up and was startled to see me there. “Oh I’m so sorry,” she said, as she pulled the AirPods from her ears. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She was staring up at me with her large, brown eyes, in a daze, somewhat transfixed on my blue eyes. “Wow, you have really amazing eyes sir,” she exclaimed.
I was surprised at her candor. As she stood up, her hair settled away from her face, and her shoulders pulled back, allowing me to see her in her entirety. She was an attractive girl in her late teens to early twenties with large eyes and full lips on a petite, heart-shaped face that enhanced her youth. She was maybe five-four and a hundred and twenty pounds with a lot of that in her chest. She had on a white, button-up shirt that was hugging her waist and cupping her large breasts. Underneath, she had on a black string-top. Just as I was about to thank her, a man came out the door to the back, and I stepped aside so he could pay. Shortly after, an older woman in her fifties came out all bundled up in preparation for the cold. The two exchanged platitudes for her services, and she left the parlor. Just as the man was finishing his transaction, another man came out and stood inline. I gestured for him to step ahead of me, and he obliged. As he was being rung up, the older woman I had seen on the Yelp page came through the door to the back. She was maybe five foot and darker toned than the girl behind the counter. The gentleman thanked her again, and she smiled, as he left the establishment. As I waited for the young lady to finish closing the register, the old woman spoke to her in Thai. Then she turned to me and asked, “How can I help you?”
I stepped forward and asked if it wasn’t too late for a massage, as I knew the hour was growing late; it was almost ten. She said she could do a thirty minute massage, but that was it, or she could book me for tomorrow. I insisted that I wanted a full ninety minutes and mentioned that I traveled over an hour away, and I asked if she wouldn’t mind making an exception and staying over. Before I could offer her anything, she said she couldn’t do ninety minutes, that she had to get home to her husband. I insisted, and I told her I could pay her double the price. She looked over my shoulder at my Audi RS7 parked in front of her shop, and she knew I wasn’t playing around. She spoke to her daughter in Thai, and they got into a heated argument, that the old woman quickly extinguished. “Yes, very well sir,” she said. “You pay now, and I will take you to the back.” As I paid the young girl, the old woman locked the door and turned off the ‘Open’ sign, and then she escorted me back.
The place was well furnished and decorated, letting me know I wasn’t in some trashy establishment. The lighting was low and warm. The furnishings looked authentic and tropical. As I passed by the thick beds with plush blankets and thick mattresses, and when I saw the rolls of clothes next to warmers, I could tell they spared no expense and that this massage was going to live up to my expectations after reading the rave reviews.
She led me to a changing room, and asked me to put all my clothes in the locker. She sat a folded robe on top of a linen basket and placed some slippers next to it, saying that she would be back to get me. As I changed, I could hear them arguing in Thai, so I didn’t know what I was saying, except a few times when the young girl broke from her family’s language, saying how it wasn’t fair and that her plans were ruined now. Shortly after the commotion stopped, the woman knocked on the door and escorted me to the massage room. “I’m very sorry sir, but I must go. This is no problem,” she explained. “My granddaughter, Aree. She is very good. I trained her. She is the best. She will gladly do your massage. This is okay?” I hadn’t read anything in the reviews about any of the other masseuses, so I didn’t know what to expect, but at this point, I would have taken anything, so I nodded, as she led me into the room. “Please sir, your can hang your robe there.” I was expecting her to leave the room, but she gestured to the hanger, so I took off my robe in front of her and hung it on the door. “Yes, very nice sir. Now, please, I tuck you in,” she said, as she gestured to the bed and held up the sheets. I crawled in the bed and laid face down, as she covered my body with the thick heated blankets. The room was warm in the mid to high seventies, and the thick blankets and table was also warmed. The weight of the warm blankets felt immediately relaxing. “Aree will be right in sir. Please, enjoy your massage,” she said, as she exited the room. There was relaxing ambiance playing in the background, dim, warm lighting and candles lit in the corner wafting aromatherapy. It was a soothing environment. Things were starting off right.
There was a knock at the door, and I heard the voice of Aree announcing her entrance. Being face down, I couldn’t see much except her black pant-legs and her manicured, French-tipped toes in her sandals, as she entered. “Hello Mr. Hathaway,” she said, as she entered the room. “Is the temperature comfortable for you in here? My grandma tends to keep it a little warm.” I told her I was fine, and she continued. “Do you have any areas on your body that needs extra attention or that I should stay away from?” I told her nothing in particular was needing attention or was troubling me, so she moved on. She rolled the top comforter down my body and set it aside, leaving a thick sheet over my body. She traced her hand down my body to make first contact, before she moved to my back. She began pushing on my body, kneading it in her hands and squeezing my muscles like she was ringing out a sponge. She worked down my back to my legs and then back up to my arms. She asked me how the pressure was, and then she asked me what I did for a living and what I was doing in the area, if I was just visiting, and so I explained who I was and why I was in the area. “That’s interesting,” she said. “And is your wife and children back at the lake house Mr. Hathaway?”
“Colin is fine,” I said, as I continued with a sigh. “And there is no wife or kids. I’m kind of married to my work.”
“How depressing,” she said candidly, as she continued to work my body.
I chuckled. “Yeah, well, maybe it is.” There was a pause before I interrupted the silence. “Sorry I interrupted your plans. Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth your time. I’m a good tipper!”
She made a heavy sigh, as if she was able to release some animosity. “Oh it’s okay. It is no big deal. I was just looking forward to going dancing with my friends tonight, but my grandmother is right; we could use the extra money,” she said, as she climbed up on the bed, Thai-style, and straddled my legs with her knees. She pushed on my back, squeezing with her full weight into my body, which felt nice. Plus, I preferred the constant contact. “How’s the pressure Colin?” I told her it was perfect, and she continued working. After some time passed, I could hear her breathing deepening, as she was working hard and getting into the massage. The thick sheet allowed her to get traction on my muscles, and she squeezed and pressed on them with her petite yet impressively strong hands. “You must work out a lot,” she complemented. I thanked her and mentioned that I did do a lot of different activities and spent some time in the gym when I wasn’t woking. “Uhhh, this music is killing me,” she announced, as she crawled off the bed. “Do you mind if I put on something else?” The ambience was relaxing, but I didn’t mind accommodating her. I could hear her fumbling through some tracks until she settled on some slow, chill, electric music. “That’s better she said,” and then I heard her drink some water before returning to my body.
She rolled the sheet back down my body to the top of my glutes, exposing my back. She walked around the bed, tracing her hand on my back, as she moved the sheet back on the other side. I could hear the sound of massage oil sliding between her hands. She reached under the table and brought the scent to my nose, filling them with a mature fragrance of vanilla and lavender. “Smells good, right,” she asked? I nodded, and then she stood at the head of the bed and shot her hands down my back all the way to my glutes in one fast move electrifying my spine before she circled her hands slowly back to my shoulders and began massaging my muscles. “How was that,” she asked? And I nodded with satisfaction.
She was trained well by her grandmother. That was clear. She worked her hands into my body with undulating motions that was perplexing to me, but managed to quickly relax my body. She was only working on my back for twenty to thirty minutes when I could tell her breathing was changing. It wasn’t just rhythmic and deep like someone in the midst of a mild workout. It was almost idiopathic in a medically therapeutic way, as if she was releasing heat trapped from within her core. Her massage technique changed, as if she was gripping my flesh with need and desire. It still felt good, even if it was a little less organized and purposeful. I could tell she was getting more and more into the contact of the massage, starting to use her whole body. She kept leaning against me, pressing her chest against my body, as she reached across the table using her forearms and weight to knead my muscles.
Then I felt a few drips of perspiration hit my back. “Wow, I am getting hot,” she suddenly proclaimed. “Is it getting hot in here?” I just shrugged, as the warm room felt perfect to my naked body, but she was clearly struggling. “Just a second,” she said. She broke contact with me, and from the corner of my eye, I could see her feet in the dimly lit room. In short time, her white, button-up shirt fell to the floor, and I could see the patches of wet spots on her shirt from her perspiration. Following the shirt was her black bra. Then I heard a zipper, and her black pants fell to her ankles. She stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. Her change in attire quickened my heart. I heard her take a big drink of water. “Oh my god. That is so much better,” she said, as she freed her body from the stifling clothes and let out a sigh from having her thirst quenched. She fumbled through her music and put on some slow EDM. She worked some more massage oil between her hands and found my back with her warm hands, working the oil into my muscles. “You have a nice body Mr. Hathaway. I mean Colin,” she giggled. I told her she did too. “Awww, you are so sweet.”
I could tell she was tripping off of something. If I had to guess, I would say she had downed a few pills with her water—assuming it was water. I didn’t smell alcohol, and she didn’t seem inebriated. As she leaned into my body, I could feel the heat and perspiration from her skin. From the way her demeanor changed, the increase in her candor, taking off the hot clothes, the heat from her body, her increased use of her contact with my body, all rubbing up on me, I was sure as shit that she was tripping on ecstasy. I wasn’t exactly complaining about this. I was even getting a contact buzz, or maybe it was just a placebo effect, or maybe it was just having a young girl half naked massaging me that was getting me worked up, but whatever it was, again, I wasn’t complaining. It felt good to be touched, to get the massage, and to be touched in such a needy way.
She uncovered my leg one at a time and worked down my body. As she leaned forward, I could feel the softness of her breasts pressing into my body where there was once thick, supportive material. They were supple, and not to be mistaken for extra body fat, as she was lean, and yet, they were perky from her youthful skin. I could feel the firm tip of her erect nipples through her string top pressing into my side, and from what I could tell, she was keenly aware of the intentional contact. “How does that feel Colin? Is it still good pressure?” I nodded. As she moved around my body, moving in front of my face, I could only see her nude legs.
She worked her way back up my legs into the sides of my glutes. I had powerful glutes from playing sports as a young man and from the weight training and activities I did now. I loved a good glute massage, so as she worked her way to my hips and the sides of my pelvis, I didn’t object. “Is this okay Mr. Hathaway? I don’t want to miss any muscles,” she said, as she worked her digits into the meat of my glutes. Before I could answer, she continued anyways, “I love to get my butt massaged, and I’m sure you do too. Right Mr. Hathaway. I mean Colin. Plus, you have a great butt for an older guy, so you don’t mind, right?” I told her that she was fine continuing. “Okay good,” she said. “I want you to be comfortable. I’m just really comfortable with you, but I just want us both to be equally comfortable.” I said I understand and agree. I said how I was perfectly comfortable, and she was doing an excellent job. “Awww, you are so sweet.”
She worked on my glutes, really massaging and kneading them, which felt amazing. Then she moved up my back to my arms and worked them. When she got to my hands, she found them to be hot and clammy from getting worked up. She worked her fingers into my hands and worked the stress from the small muscles there. Her small fingers intertwined with my thick fingers, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but want to reach for her, to hold her hand. I was clearly getting into my massage much more than I was expecting and getting turned on, but then Aree climbed back on the table and straddled my legs. This time I could feel her bare legs against mine, and as she worked her hands into my back, pressing her weight into me, she slowly sank her body into the top of my thighs. Her perspiring body was slippery against my thighs, so she kept bucking her hips forward into my glutes to maintain her position. I could feel the top of her thighs and the bottom edge of her butt against my skin, and I didn’t know if she was in a thong or in some boy shorts underwear, but it was getting me hard thinking about her sitting on me half naked. I think she was getting especially worked up from the contact too because she was moving her hips along my legs, as she pressed her weight into me, and she was lowering her torso down to the point that she was practically rubbing her breasts against my back. “How do I feel,” she asked? “Does this feel good?” I didn’t know how to respond. I just nodded. She leaned down into my ear, “I think I’m ready for you to turn over Mr. Hathaway.”