Follow your bliss
One of the professional groups I belong to meets a couple of times a year in the big city. It’s an hour to get there by commuter train, and a short subway ride takes me within a ten minutes’ walk of my destination. The meetings usually end by noon but the first train back leaves at 3:45. With several hours to explore the city alone, who knows what might happen.
Of course I had been keeping up on craigslist and yahoo groups so I thought I might try a massage by a woman named S in Chinatown whom several people mentioned. She got high ratings not only for the happy ending but also for her massage (what a concept). I called the day before to make an appointment and to get directions. She works out of a back room in a hair salon tucked away on an anonymous side street in the middle of Chinatown.
I walked down the stairs into the basement entrance of a brownstone building covered in Chinese and English signs. Two tres chic young Chinese women working in the salon greeted me and one went back to tell S I was here. Luckily there were no women having their hair done while I waited in front of a row of tables with mirrors, scissors, hair dryers etc. I watched a live musical performance on TV with English subtitles ("La la la…Oh oh oh") while I waited.
In a couple of minutes a large Asian man came out of the back room with a smile on his face and walked quickly past me. S waved and said she’d be right back after cleaning up. She came back and beckoned me into the back. The room was very small – looked like a converted storage room – with very low light and a table that took up most of the space. S looked to be in her mid to late 30s with short black hair. She was wearing a long white lab coat over black pants so the whole scene reminded me of a trip to the doctor’s office. She spoke broken English, but enough so we understood each other. I got the impression she was a serous business woman and that I was not frequenting some sex slave operation as many Asian massage parlors are purported to be.
It was my first time there so she explained that she does one or one-half hour sessions. I wasn’t sure what to expect so we agreed on a half-hour and if I liked it, next time I would go for the full hour. She told me she didn’t think I would show up, so she called a regular client who was apparently waiting to hear from her to book the other half-hour. Nothing was mentioned about endings, happy or otherwise.
She asked me to get undressed and, in what looked like a reflex, she bent over to help me with my shoes and socks. Must be a cultural thing. We both got my clothes off rather awkwardly and I lay down naked on my stomach and S put a towel over the lower part of my body. She asked me if I like it heavy or light and, not being very sure what heavy meant, I asked for something in between. She dribbled oil and began a serious massage on by back and shoulders using her hands, elbows, knees, working out all the kinks. Working quickly, she went over everything again giving special attention to my shoulders and neck. There was no shower there and I was a little worried about going home with a telltale smell or feel but the oil was odorless and she brought out a steaming hot towel to rub down my back.
She moved the towel from my legs to my back and started working the muscles in my right leg. I had done a lot of walking that day so this was a real treat. With the wonderful massage I was beginning to forget why I was there. I was reminded when S started to rub the oil over my butt checks and ran her fingers into the crack, hesitantly at first but then with regular strokes as she kneaded my thighs and cheeks. After oiling up my ass and working on the thigh she began to reach under to get at my cock. Now I remembered why I was here.
She twirled her fingers around the head and stroked until I got hard even though I was on my stomach and it was still pointing toward my feet. I raised my pelvis a little to give her (and me) a little more room. I was enjoying the oily manipulation so much I didn’t notice her other hand was moving deeper and deeper into my upturned ass crack and she started to fuck me with her little finger. I’m not a great fan of ass play and although it wasn’t that uncomfortable, it wasn’t a turn-on either. She sensed something and asked "Inside or outside?" I politely asked her to stay outside.
As she kept stroking my cheeks and crack and twirling my cock she leaned over the table a little and I found my hand lying within a cunt hair’s distance of her cunt hair. I softly caressed her inner thigh and her pussy through her pants. It was enough to put me over the edge. I came in her hand and she pulled every last drop out. She leaned over and whispered, "OK?" in my ear. All I could do was groan in affirmation in my blissful state.
She cleaned herself and wiped me off and began on the other leg. It was getting late and she finished by pounding my pelvis bone toward my head a little and then started working on my cock again. There was a knock on the door – her next appointment was here. I was hard & she said to me, "Just one more minute" and asked me to turn over. I saw that she had taken her lab coat off and had only a bra on top. I copped a quick feel as she stroked me quickly in a more traditional fashion hoping I would come again right away. And I would have, but it was hard to concentrate knowing someone was waiting outside. She stopped and said "Half-hour, one time. One hour, two time." She got another steaming towel and cleaned me off.
Again, she helped me get dressed and gave me her card. We embraced, bowed to each other and left the room. She suggested I comb my hair and showed me to the bathroom as she got ready for her next appointment.
The hot & sour soup in the restaurant next door was excellent and the homemade ice cream at the train station was delicious. All I needed was a couple of tokes to top off a decadent, self-indulgent afternoon.
At the meeting I went to in the morning there was talk of needing a new chair. I’m going to volunteer so I’ll have to make more frequent trips to the city.
