A lesson learned

On a weekday morning off I take a slight detour from my errands and jump on a bus heading in a different direction and head to the spa with the most discreet entrance - a back stairway in a stockade-fenced parking lot. I get off the bus a stop early and walk down the side streets and around into the lot and there is an out-of-state car there. Another customer come this far for a massage? Doesn't seem likely.

S meets me at the top of the stairs. She has been at this place since they opened and could be the mamasan, but she does the massages herself. It's the typical routine - paying the fee, getting undressed and being led to the table shower.

Her shower technique seems a little perfunctory like something is on her mind. Back to the room and after I was lying face down she runs her hands lightly over my back and legs for preliminaries when I hear the door open and someone else comes in the room. I have my face in the massage table's hole so I can't see but I sense that it's a woman.

S leans over and whispers that it's my lucky day - she'll be training a new recruit and I'll have a four-handed massage. (Explains the car in the lot.) Sounds great, but the new woman seems very new at massages so it isn't the intense experience it could be.

S starts normally with sweeping strokes on the large muscles, all the while explaining, in Korean, her technique to her student. They keep talking in hushed tones and it's only slightly distracting - I'm just wondering if the four handed experience will extend to the happy ending.

In explaining a certain move, S would turn my body over to her student who would try the same technique only more tentatively like she is afraid of hurting me. I want to say, Harder, but I don't want to interrupt the lesson. As so it goes over my back, legs and arms, each woman standing on either side of the table and using my body like a CPR dummy.

None of this is especially erotic and if I understood the language I could have benefited from the lesson. The new recruit holds on to my hand for a few seconds too long as she finishes with my right arm and I feel a little twitching in my nether regions in anticipation of where that could lead. But everything seems very educational and business-like in spite of the low light, soft music, murmuring voices and female hands all over me.

No room for a slow teasing fingertip massage around my ass and thighs in this lesson as S asks me to turn over on my back. I see her student for the first time - a thin Asian woman in a conservative blouse and knee-length skirt with stylish glasses and her hair piled on top of her head - for a minute I'm thinking I'm in a library. She politely says hello and smiles as they start to concentrate on my legs, ignoring my growing cock.

They finish up with some last instruction and a few knowing giggles and the student leaves the room. I have to ask...She's not staying around to learn about the happy ending? S laughs and says she is already an expert at that. Intriguing. I would like to be the judge of that. S proceeds to turn down the light even more and concentrates on the task at hand. A little teasing - it doesn't take much - and I am at full attention. S oils up her hands and goes at it. I think she may recognize me from past visits so there is no hesitation about my fondling her while she starts slowly and builds up momentum.

What a rush. It never fails to amaze me how intense a handjob can be. S cleans me up and encourages me to visit again soon. She may feel that I wasn't spoiled as much as I should have been or that her lesson was too much of a distraction. I truthfully agree to return as soon as I can. I would really like to find out how much of an expert her new employee really is.

Relaxing in the big city

I haven't had a meeting in the big city for a while so when I found myself wrapping things up just after lunch I calculated I had a couple of hours to spend on my own. I begged off a couple of offers for a ride to my home town saying I had some shopping to do in Chinatown. On the subway I checked out the adults ads in the local free paper and picked out a couple of possibilities for recreational massages.

I could have visited other places I had been in the neighborhood - the nail salons, the apartment - but I was itching for something new. I recognized some of the places advertised and I decided on a business that just offered relaxing massages. It's run by a business woman and it got pretty good reviews in the whoremonger Internet literature except for reports of a visiting assistant masseuse who was not all that friendly. I knew it would be hit or miss, but I decided to give it a try.

I called from a block away and L, the owner, gave me directions to a corner office building on one of the bordering streets of Chinatown - 4th floor of an old brick building. In the foyer was an ancient looking elevator that has seen better days. I decided to take the stairs which didn't look much better. The building was full of small businesses. First floor, hair stylists; second floor, insurance and real estate; third floor, psychic readings and yoga studios; fourth floor, a therapist and down a winding hallway, my destination.

The door was open to reveal a comfortable living room with couches, an oriental rug and a coffee table with issues of Self and People piled up. L, a short middle-aged Chinese woman greeted me and turned briefly to finish up showing a much younger woman how to use the CD player. She ushered me into one of two small rooms with a massage table while the younger woman followed me in holding the radio. She introduced herself as C and said she was a friend of L's just helping out for a couple of days. I was relieved to hear she wasn't the woman who got such bad reviews - maybe she was there because of too many complaints about her predecessor.

The usual routine - taking my massage fee and asking me to get undressed. No table shower in any of the places I have been in this neighborhood. The room was small with a small table in the corner for supplies. C came in when I was naked and asked me to lie down on the massage table. She was dressed all in black - jeans and a pullover - which matched her long black hair. Probably in her late 20s, C had a cute smile and strong hands. She was obviously a professional. She asked if she could use oil & I agreed figuring most of it would wear off on my clothes by the time I got home.

The massage was good and strong but relaxing. After some small talk (concerning mostly about the other similar places I had been - sizing me up for a potential happy ending, I'm sure) I was going into into a swooning reverie when she left and came back with some hot towels to wipe off a lot of the oil. Discarding the towels, she began the light touches. A few minutes of this teasing with her hands and hair running up and down my spine, ass and legs, C whispered that I should turn over. With my cock almost at full mast, she pointed and smiled at me without saying anything. I took that as the question I was waiting for. I nodded in silence and she went to the table and pumped out a fistful of oil.

Since it was my first time there and she was so nice, I hadn't been groping her too much - only accidental brushes against her legs. When she slathered on the oil I started running my hands up her legs and back but the jeans weren't providing a very sexy feel. I went up to her tits and fondled her over her top but she was wearing the typical padded chastity bra. I could feel the mounds and cleavage when I reached the top which then began to finally get my blood coursing with the right intensity.

As C was slowly working my cock, she smiled sweetly at me, something many providers do not do. It's one of those fantasy images burned into my memory - a cute Chinese girl servicing me with a smile. I couldn't help but raising my knees and arching my back as her stroking became more robust until finally I shot my load all over my stomach with my eyes rolled back and Easy Rider hallucinogenic stars bursting in my psyche.

She left the room to clean up and I slowly came back to earth. More hot towels when she returned and a facial massage to finish up. I sat up in a daze and I vaguely remember getting dressed. She helped me with my socks and shoes and buttoned my shirt for me. I gave her a tip, hugged her and dreamily made it back down the stairs. The noise of the city finished waking me up and I floated down the street towards the train station and reality.

Five years

I can't believe it's been five years since I started this blog. I never really thought about how long I would or could keep this up.

This blog has filled my need for confession. It feels so much better to get things off my chest whether or not anyone reads it. I throw my stories out there knowing that maybe a couple of regulars check in (or not) and maybe someone will stumble across them and read without judgment. I hope I have titillated, educated, and fascinated a few people in the process.

This has been a cathartic experience. Since this is my secret life I have no one IRL to share my experiences with - no friends, colleagues, family, and certainly not my wife, would be open to hearing about my clandestine experiences. I have to tell someone, so why not you?

But I wonder if sometimes I continue my adventures only to have something to write about here. Nah, I'd probably look to play and find some other outlet for catharsis.

So I'll continue for now in the same vein hoping that my veins will still be working in the right places for a while so I can sow some oats outside of the fertile plot I have been tending for so long. (And I hope that no one judges badly my mixture of metaphors.)

Thanks for reading and I'll still be living one post at a time.

Time for a change

It was starting to get monotonous, one spa after another. I did try to get to a strip club a couple of times in the last few months but it never worked out. Mostly just a scheduling problem but also the spa experience is so addicting. It's more of a ritual and a sure thing compared to the fantasy seduction at the strip club stage, picking the woman who will do things.

I ended up at my old usual club one Saturday afternoon and waited at the bar for a drink. Thumping music, low light, perfume and beer fumes, nothing's changed. There were a couple of old guys like me at the bar chatting up a dancer, or maybe the other way around, and the bartender was busy at the other end. A skinny dancer lazed around he pole on stage and waited for some action.

Just as the bartender noticed me a dancer sat down next to me & introduced herself as S. Of course I offered to buy her a beverage and she surprised me by ordering an energy drink. [No placement ads here.] I knew if I had gotten my drink a minute sooner I'd be at the stage sampling the charms of a few women; I was too polite to walk away from the young woman next to me. I broke my own routine but chances were that this might work out.

Not only was she young but she had a pretty face and was in good shape with long brown hair, perky tits and a sly smile. We chatted a bit about were we lived and the warming weather, and after a few minutes I cut to the chase. I knew why she was so anxious to talk to me, so as she was offering her legs to my view and touch, I asked her if she was good at private dances. Duh, she said yes. How did she feel about fondling; no problem. Without much time for a hard-on test (although there was definitely some movement in that department) we got up from the bar and walked toward the private dance booths.

I followed her pear-shaped ass swinging like a pendulum, encased in short shorts with her cheeks peeking out and a tramp stamp gracing her pelvis. The image is still burned in my mind. She picked out the darkest booth. The booths with curtains cost more so we opted for darkness. There were other couples in there but we all try to ignore each other and the loud music muffles intimate noises. She took off her fishnet shawl and slipped out of her shorts to reveal the tiniest bikini I think I've seen. Little triangles of cloth barely covered her nipples and another triangle constrained her puffy pussy. This was gonna be good.

Or so I thought. I adjusted my cock to point north and the first song got us nice and cozy but S didn't provide much friction. She sat on my legs frontwards and backwards and slithered down my chest a couple of times with barely a brush against my bulge. She did let me caress her natural mid-sized tits when they were within reach and allowed an occasional stroke across her crotch, moving away if I pressed too hard. I was hoping that, like some dancers, she would get a little more personal if I went with another song. So instead of cutting my loses and going out to test drive some of the other dancers on stage, I nodded when she asked if I wanted another dance.

Things went a little better during the second song although I had to pull her down by her hips as she girated to put some pressure on my cock. With a little more fondling, and a little more friction I was almost there. Just a couple more strokes with her ass crack and...

"You want another dance, baby?" she whispered, teasing me a little with her hand. I was that close. I thought for a second of giving myself a few strokes - that's all it would have taken, but my modesty and frugality took over. I declined her offer and stuck to my self-imposed limit of two songs. I straightened myself out, paid her, and walked out into the blinding sunlight. Oh well. It's been a while since I failed to get off in a strip club. As I walked through the surrounding alleys and parking lots I thought back and stored a few images of S in my mind - her ass swinging, her lovely soft tits with the tiny bikini covering them, her breeder pelvis in my lap. She will still get me off - she just won't be there when she does.

In the hood

Finally a Saturday to work a little downtown, a very little, leaving some time for play on the way home. I had until 1-ish or so before my absence would arouse suspicion so around 11 I headed out to the spa I had been to early on another morning. Things didn't go so well then, but it was worth a try because it is in a convenient location and the streets were kind of deserted.

I could see the door from a distance & someone was parked there and seemed to go in, but I realized he was loading stuff into what I assumed was his business next door to the spa. I came up to the door and gave a tug. Locked. Another tug. Still locked. No use hanging around so I walked toward the bus stop devising Plan B. I could head toward home and either go to one I had never been to which is further down the bus route or I could go to a familiar, closer place. The bus schedule helped me decide.

I must have just missed one so I had to wait a while (Saturday schedule) for the next bus. then there was a crowd getting on & off and a wheelchair to load in the back so in the interest of time, I got off on the nearer spa. I got off one stop ahead to case the street to see any friends or neighbors who might see me. A group of down-and-outers got off the bus with me but luckily they crossed the street after a block & headed to a liquor store. Breakfast of champions. A woman in front of me started up a side street and I was cleared for landing. I ducked in during a lull in traffic and disappeared out of the bright sunlight into the dim, quiet, sultry atmosphere of my neighborhood massage parlor.

A short, well-endowed Asian woman in a tight top and white jeans met me with a giggle and a smile and lead me down the dark-paneled hallway to one of the rooms, took my fee and left me to undress. She came back to introduce herself as S and to give me a towel to wrap myself in for the trip to the shower. Before tightening the towel, she opened it up, looked down and said hello to my genitals too. Goofy, but fun. The table shower was nice and relaxing except for the growing tension in my nether regions as she gave me a thorough wash, greeting my not-so-private parts again with a giggle.

Back for the massage. S helped keep up the reputation of this place as one with great massages, but modest providers - they stay fully clothed the whole time. The massage was a little harder than I like & she did some almost painful stretches of my whole body, pulling me from corner to corner and side to side. It may have hurt for a few minutes, but I haven't been that loosely wrapped since my last bender. More stretching and a little pounding, some kneading with her knees and stroking with her elbows and I felt a little beat up. But in a good way.

Not much teasing. Just a little light touch up and down the strips of mush that used to be my muscles. I turned over and S politely asked if I wanted her friend massaged pointing to my crotch. Yes, please. She turned the light down and brought out the oil. As she started I ran my hands over her pants but she said 'No inside' when I tried to go under her shirt. I knew the culture of this place but I had to try...and be polite about it. She had no problem with my fondling her tits that were covered up to her neck in a T shirt and tucked away in a padded bra. It took me a little longer than usual as she pumped away. I went over the edge when she jumped up on the table and straddled me, stroking like mad and leaning into my hands as they groped her chest.

Hot towels and a head massage to finish up. She returned to her giggly, self and we hugged goodbye. I passed another customer in the doorway and we both instinctively pulled our hats down and ducked past each other. I took a couple quick turns outside and started walking home loose as a goose. All's quiet there asI start to assimilate back into real life.

Creature of habit

It was a rare day off with the use of a car. I had some errands to run in a neighborhood where several spas are located; a couple I'd been to, ones I'd never visited and a few new ones. I debated about going someplace I had never been but since I had the car, I worried about parking on a very visible street or parking lot. I checked out a couple of them on my way across town.

One had a very small parking lot near a busy intersection near the highway. Too busy. Another was down a couple of side streets but there were several cars already in the lot. Too popular. I had to drive by another on my way to my official business but I was stuck in traffic right in front of their front door and highly visible parking lot. All I need is for a friend or relative passing by and seeing my car in front of a notorious spa (right next door to a dirty bookstore). I had wanted to visit this spa based on Internet reports but I might be better off going there when I was traveling by bus and would only have to worry about the few seconds it would take me to get in and out of the building.

OK, so I'm paranoid about visiting a legal health-related establishment. But it is my secret life and I intend to keep it a secret. After my errand I went past that last place and again I was stuck in traffic right in front. I drove a few blocks to the places I had been, knowing I could be more discreet. The parking lot of the nearest had a few cars in it and I could have blended mine in with the others but it was still pretty visible - the lot is on a corner of an intersection that was not quite as busy as the last. I drove around the corner to the spa I knew would be the most hidden, but it was the one I had been to last.

Oh well, at least I will be able to get a better sense of what I can expect there. Two points determine a straight line. I remember that the tease was so nice there that I would try again to see if the massage would improve. It's rare to find a combination of a good massage, tease and release.

Down one side street and into an alley behind a row of houses on one side and a deserted park on the other. There was the spa sign and a parking lot walled off with a six-foot high stockade fence. I pulled in and parked in a corner that was pretty much impossible to see unless you were pulling into the lot yourself. There was another car there but it had out of state plates so I figured it was one of the owners.

Up the wooden stairs tacked onto the outside of the building; rang the bell and was met by C who ushered me into the kitchen and down the hall to a massage room. At first glance C looked pretty young with her brownish hair (dyed?) down to her shoulders and a loose top and dungaree shorts. Low to mid 30s maybe. The usual formalities and soon I had a towel wrapped around my waist and was led to the shower room. She did a good job washing down my back and legs with her bare hands and when she asked me to flip over, she made sure my privates were nice and clean. In fact, she kept coming back to my growing hard on, stroking a few times with each return. (Think about baseball, Barbara Bush, the failing economy - anything to keep me from popping right there. Mmmm, maybe she would go for two pops, one in the shower and one in the room. Maybe next time.) She dried me off and the weight of the towel (and Bar) brought me down to almost normal.

She didn't speak much, didn't ask how hard a massage I wanted. She just started in what I would consider a hard massage. She used oil and soon was putting heavy pressure on my muscles, stretching them out and working out the kinks. She used her forearms on each side of my back, always starting at the spine and working outwards. At one point she knelt on my back and did the same thing with with her legs, digging her knees into my spine and moving outwards. This was definitely not the simple body rub/tease I had here last time.

C made no objection when I ran my hands up and down her very thin, but smoothly shaved calves when she got back on the floor. She asked me to turn over and without any tease asked me, You wanna fuckie? I said No and made the universal handjob sign. She said Good, a little too quickly I thought. I was surprised; I thought this was a hand-release only place. She oiled me up and started in. I began feeling her up and she took her top and bra off to give me access to her tits. She leaned over to breathe heavy on my neck while I explored her body. She had put her hair up during the massage and it made her look ten years older, probably closer to her real age. But that didn't stop me from bursting forth all over her hand and my stomach.

So now I know about this place - either/or a good massage or a good tease but probably not both. I suppose all things in life balance out. I just wish they would balance at the same time and place. The quest will continue...

Three out of four ain't bad

Because of some scheduling changes at work I have some time to myself lately during the day so I can plan excursions quite easily. Tired of the routines, I feel a real urge for a different experience at one of the new spas that have sprung up in my area. A little reading and filtering out the full service places from the hand job joints (and some in between) I pick one that has pretty good reviews & is easy to get to on the bus.

I am always looking for a combination of a discreet location, a great massage, lots of teasing and a very happy ending. This combination is not always achievable - usually one or more of my 'requirements' is missing. Maybe this new place will satisfy my needs.

Google maps shows me that the building is a small house right on a busy street just past the bus stop. Not very good for discretion. However, the internet postings say there is a parking lot in back and stairs to up to an entrance. Sounds promising. I can't quite go around the corner on street view, but I see there is an alley that runs parallel to the main street behind the buildings.

When the time comes I jump on the cross-town bus and get off at the stop I saw on the map. I walk around the corner and sure enough, there is the alley. It's pretty quiet and there are no neighbors around as I find the parking lot that is half obscured by a tractor trailer parked along the fence on one side; a big empty park sits across from the parking lot entrance. And there are the stairs, a long flight of wooden steps stuck onto the outside of the house leading to the back door which must be at the level of the main street. As I approach, the door opens and an Asian woman greets me with a big smile. Must be a security camera somewhere. I walk into a kitchen that smells strongly of some kind of fried food and run into another woman with a can of air freshener in her hand. I can't tell if the smell is from cooking or spraying.

Both women are very friendly and my greeter leads me to a room down the hall. Since they have only been open for a while, there is no "Have you been here before?" She collects the house fee and I undress. I ask her name when she comes back and S then leads me to the shower - a converted bedroom with a boarded up window in the front of the house. S is wearing a short summer dress and I watch her lovely ass sway as I follow her through the house. She washes me with her hands as I lay on the table and hits every crevice. I flip and she does the same, giving more than a passing rub to my rising cock.

S dries me off and leads me back to the room. So far so good - a discreet location, a pretty good table shower. Now the massage. Actually I can't really call it a massage; it is more of a body rub. No deep tissue kneading, no working out knots in my shoulder. However, as a tease it goes way beyond the usual 2-minute finger touches on my ass and reach under to my balls.

S stands at the head of the table with her midsection rhythmically pressing against my head as she rubs both palms up and down my back, sometimes with heavy pressure and sometimes lightly with her fingernails. My hands are draped over the table within easy reach of her ass. What the hell, I tentatively run one hand up her very smooth leg (every AMP woman I have met has very smooth skin) and under her dress. It looks like she's OK with it. I get my other hand going and pretty soon I'm caressing her nice little ass over her panties and then under them to her bare ass cheeks. I cant reach the front because she is leaning against the table but my senses are going wild.

This goes on for what seems like hours, but realistically, it's a good twenty minutes of the same back rubbing over and over and my hands going in and out of her panties. My cock is dying to straighten out and I can fell the horniness spread like a hardon throughout the center of my body right up to my throat. It's getting difficult to stay like this for much longer.

Finally S breaks away and spends a little time on my legs. I keep grabbing her ass when she is within reach at the side of the table and catch my breath when she moves away. She asks me to flip onto my back and my cock springs free and makes itself known. She asks what I want and I give her the universal handjob sign. She gets the pump bottle and oils me up. Of course I reach under her dress again and this time I can get to her pussy, slipping under the leg of her panties. I try for her tits but the dress has a tight band around her stomach and there is a ton of padding in the cups - typically tiny tits.

She knows what I like and pulls her dress up and her panties down for direct access. A trimmed landing strip under a supple womb - a memory burned in for future fantasy sessions. I rummage through her folds feeling for her clit. She sees I'm having a little trouble and takes my hand, pumps a little oil on my fingers and directs me back. We both resume our exploration. My body-long hardon is reaching its limit with the oily stroking and my oily penetration. A full body orgasm sends me somewhere I haven't been before. In spite of not having a deep tissue massage, I'm left in the same tingly, toxics-releasing stupor I would get with an LMT.

Hot towels on the table and cold air at the bus stop. I guess I'll have to try this place again & start a new routine even if the massage quotient isn't there.

Best laid plans

Even though I find each trip to a massage parlor to be exciting, writing (and maybe reading) about them has been getting to be monotonous to me. So I decided for variety's sake I would plan a trip to a strip club.

I had a weekday off and an excuse to go to the mall (to spend my 2-month old birthday gift card) and I started making plans. I wanted to go to the club after 2pm when the people I know who work in the area would be finished with lunch and back in their offices - I would have to go shopping first so I wouldn't be too late getting home. I didn't want to carry a bag with a big department store logo all over it into the club so I emptied out my backpack to bring in order to be more discreet. I dug out my vice savings which in this case included a lot of dollar bills for stuffing g-strings; I wore a dark shirt so I could blend into the background; I put on my old jeans which were thin enough for easy friction.

I ran out the door to catch the bus and realized halfway downtown that I forgot the backpack. Bummer. Maybe I would be able to get a plain bag somewhere that I could use to hide any logo'd ones. I guess I made the mistake of going to the department store first since every store I went to just put the Christmas presents I bought into the original bag. My last chance was a bookstore a few blocks away; the clerk said they only had ones that were smaller than the one I had so I gave up. Everything else was in place. Just one small senior moment and it's delayed gratification for me.

My next chance for extracurricular activity was the following Sunday morning on my way to work. Since I only had an hour and it was so early, a strip club was out of the question, but the spa I had previously been to downtown opened at 10. I arrived at about 10:15 and walked up the firetrap steps with the year-round Christmas tree, finally in season, at the top. Before I could ring the bell I heard an alarm bell inside that was obviously triggered by my movement. I rang the doorbell anyway and waited. It was really quiet inside. Too quiet. I looked around for the motion detector and found it on the wall behind me. Since there was such silence inside, I moved around a lot just to set off the alarm and I rang the bell again. I felt a little guilty about trying to wake them up, but they advertise that they open at 10. I wasn't going to be frustrated again.

Finally I heard some movement inside. A woman coughing, water running, some bumping around and more coughing. Finally a slightly disheveled mid-40ish Asian woman in a sun dress opened the door. I apologized for ringing so much and asked if they were really open. She said yes and led me to a room. I paid her and got undressed as she left to get the shower, and herself, ready.

I had pretty low expectations given the shape of my masseuse but she put up a brave front, smiling and trying to be as enthusiastic as she could. The shower was nice as she scrubbed me down and rinsed me off before bringing me back to the room. She left for a few minutes and I could hear a little more coughing and water running. She came back with apologies saying she had to splash water on her face. I know I shouldn't have felt guilty - it is a business after all - but I wouldn't want to jump right into work after just waking up.

I knew she was cutting a few corners as she worked on my back and butt, making it to my feet in record time. She began the teasing ritual with a light touch all over my backside giving special attention to my ass, and I did my part by running my hand up and down her remarkably smooth legs. It was easy access into her panties under her silky dress, a voyeur's dream. At last, she asked me to turn over and broke the spell by asking what I wanted. I'm sure she was relieved that I only wanted a hand job and she wouldn't have to take a pounding so early in the morning. As she oiled me up and began stroking I had my hands all over her tits and private parts under her dress.

It didn't take me long; after all, it was still early in the day when my testosterone was enslaving my blood and justifying the term morning wood. She (I didn't even catch her name) did yeoman work and I let go with a force that only a post-massage hand release will give. As I lay in a near catatonic state, she left for some hot towels after cleaning me up a little. I mentioned something about the time since I couldn't see the clock very well and she thought I was in a hurry. There was a language problem and I gave up trying to explain that I still had time to catch my bus; she was ready to let me go. I decided I wouldn't force the issue about the remaining 15 minutes and started to get dressed.

I will think twice about going to a spa, at least this one, so early in the morning. Maybe because it was a Sunday. Even sex workers need to sleep in once in a while. It's all relative, though - strip clubs open at noon, but many dancers are just barely awake when I have met them in the early afternoon. That won't stop me from making my vice trips whenever my schedule permits.

Morning walk

Sometimes hiding in plain sight works out. But of course, timing is everything. The two cliches butted heads one morning when I had the day off & everyone I know was, I assume, busy with their own affairs. I decided to visit a spa that's in walking distance of my house. It's on a busy street with a popular convenience store and a highway entrance road within shouting distance.

The spa has been there for years; a very unassuming place even with the huge lighted sign in front. It's just a storefront with other businesses and parking lots on either side. I timed my visit for mid-morning when most people would have arrived at work but before they would venture out for coffee. Walking down the side street I could see that the convenience store parking lot had only a couple of cars in it and that traffic was pretty light. Of course, it would only take one acquaintance breaking their routine to spot me from the street.

I turned the corner and had a half a block to cover. There was some unusual activity right near the entrance so I figured I would have to make a split second decision whether or not to go in. A cable guy with his white van gleaming in the sun on the side of the building was working with a long yellow ladder against the telephone pole right across from the entrance. Another guy, an Asian man was pacing in front of the building talking on a cell phone. It was a 50-50 decision - go or no go.

I slowed my pace and saw that the cable guy was maneuvering the ladder over to his truck. If I timed it right, he would be on the side of the building by the time I passed and wouldn't see me go in. I figured the Asian guy was connected to the spa, so I'm sure he would be glad to see me enter even if I distracted him from his conversation. Up to 70-30.

I walked past the distracted worker and caller and glanced down the street; traffic was still light although I could see a bus approaching in the distance. Hmmm, 40-60. One more step & I was out of the sun and in the shade of the building. 50-50. Another couple of steps & I figured that the activity behind me would attract more attention from passers by than my discreet figure hurrying along the sidewalk. I came to the door and literally made my decision then and there; I opened the door and walked into the entry way to the sound of bells hanging on the door. Safe inside, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The only problem going this early is that the masseuses were still eating breakfast or just starting their morning routines. The mamasan let me in and led me to a room still chewing her coffee bun. I didn't have to lie and said I had been there before and I paid the house fee. It was a little chilly in the room (another disadvantage of arriving early) but I undressed and met C, a tall, thin Asian woman with long straight black hair, as she came in to escort me to the shower.

I really like getting soaped up and scrubbed down by a young woman. She made extra sure I was clean down there, on both sides. She dried me off and we went back to the room, skipping the sauna (it was probably not up to temperature yet). I lay naked on my stomach and relaxed for a wonderful massage. This is one of the HJ only spas (rub & tug, jack shack) so I knew not to expect full service. In fact, this is one of the places where the masseuses do not remove any clothing but usually allow customers to grope a little when the time comes. However, the massage is usually much better than places that offer all out sex.

And this was the case. A very relaxing, stress-relieving session. When she finished with my back, legs and feet she started her light touch all over but concentrated on my ass and inner thighs. Occasionally she brushed her fingers against my growing member as I arched my pelvis up to relieve some pressure. As if on cue, C bent over and let the tips of her hair follow her fingers across my tingling skin. Then she started gently blowing all around my asshole and balls. I could barely stand it. Blow in my rear, I'll follow you anywhere.

She told me to turn over and asked permission to take care of my way-too obvious muscle tension. Of course I said yes and the lotion came out and the stroking began. I ran my hand up along her white jeans over her legs and ass but when I started caressing her back under her shirt she giggled and tensed up because my hand was too cold for her. I tried warming my hand between her legs and on top of her shirt but it wasn't enough to stop her from cringing again when I went under. She leaned over for some more hair teasing as she stroked and I tried to approach from the top. I managed to get between her tits and almost into her bra but she giggled again and lost some of her concentration. I gave up and just squeezed gently atop her top.

In spite of all that it was a very nice finish. She cleaned me up with a hot towel and finished the massage with a nice head and scalp rub. I dressed and we hugged and I stood in the entry way for a minute hoping I could just walk away invisibly. I pulled down my cap, pulled up my collar and went out onto the sidewalk at full walking speed as if I had been marching up the street for blocks. Another hour lost to the sensual stimulation of muscle and blood.

Annual visit

Another trip to visit relatives in a neighboring state with access to a car and an opportunity to be off on my own fir a few hours. I finished my homework before I left. There's an art gallery at a college that's about 40 minutes away and the route takes me past the spa I visited last year. Good excuse, good time frame.

It's like deja vu; same street, same time of day. same beautiful weather. Knowing no one would recognize me, I boldly walked up to the entry in a building behind a busy doughnut shop. Same routine as mamasan takes me into a room and smiles when I say I have been there before. She takes my money and leaves me to undress. Knowing the culture of this massage parlor, I leave the tip visible on the table where a small lamp with its shade covered with a red cloth gave the room an earie brothel glow. There were full-sized mirrors mounted sideways on either side of the massage table. Asian string nusic on the boom box.

In walks a short and very cute asin woman with ovesized tits. Artificial, I know. She's wearing a red bikini and introduces herself as C. She thanks me for the tip and leads me to the table shower, giggling all the way. Good thing she is wearing the bikini, I can grope around a lot as she scrubs me down making sure I'm squeaky clean. We are getting along well. I can tell by her squeaky giggles.

This spa is definitely on the whorehouse end of the massage parlor scale. The massage was little more than stimulating my skin and getting my blood running in the right derection. She takes her bikini off and rubs herself all over my back. I must admit, for fake tits, hers feel pretty natural. Naturally, It doesn't take me long to approach full length. She asks me to turn over and and teases me into throbbing mode. She pulls a condom out of nowhere and puts it on with her mouth starting a slow blowjob.

It's a blur after that. She climbs on top of me for a while. The mirrors are great - a live porn show right there on the wall. You can even feel it! I offer to massage her and she giggles her approval. Of course I don't know shit about massaging, but I give it a try just to get my hands all over her slim little body. It's aso a way to get her ass up in the air for more live porn. By the time we try missionary, I am ready to blow. She makes it easier by doing a thing with her legs that I am all too familiar with.

She takes good care of me, cleaning me with a hot towel and laying another across my back. I could iie here forever. C helps me dress and I make my way for another cultural experience at the art gallery.