Creature of habit

I had another meeting in the big city and I thought about visiting S who gave me a great massage and release in the half hour appointment I had. This time I thought I would go for the full hour and enjoy her two pop special.

I went back to the online forum and re-read her reviews and a few comparisons to other women in the same area. Hmmm…I began to have second thoughts since there were a couple of negative reviews of S. To each his own, of course, but there were kernels of truth in the criticisms. Mostly they complained about the clinical nature of the visit, One didn’t like the roughness of the massage and another thought the hand release was not erotic at all. For better or for worse I’m the kind of person who tries to see all sides of an issue so I could see how someone might feel that way about S’s technique.

There were reviews of others in the area so I made a list and figured I would decide what to do that morning. Should I stick with the known quantity where I know what to expect or try something different and maybe be disappointed? It’s so hard for a Libra to decide these things.

One of the other women reviewed is T who gives massages in an apartment on the same street as S. One guy said she performed a perfunctory massage and a quick, almost bruising hand job at the end. He said she was attractive and worked in her lingerie allowing some hand roaming. Another woman, J, worked several blocks away, was older than the others and was positively reviewed. The thing about her was that she brought the guy to the edge several times and let him decide the pacing of the HJ. Then there was the four hand massage at the other end of the neighborhood, but it seemed a little too expensive for me (but intriguing).

I made a list of their phone numbers and figured I would start with S and if she had no appointments, I would move on to one of the others. At least I knew what to expect with her and I knew she tried for two releases.

I called when I got off the train and S had an hour for me later that afternoon.

I arrived at the hair and nail salon where S rented a back room. This time there were customers getting their hair styled – a man and a woman. No one except the manager seemed to notice me waiting at one of the ‘barber’ chairs.

S motioned me in and we went through the same routine – she undressed me and asked me to lie face down on the table in the dimly lit room with soft string and flute music playing. She set an egg timer for the hour and began her ‘medium’ massage using her hands, elbows, knees to stretch out every muscle I had. She asked if she could work on my head and I worried about her loosening a blood clot as she rubbed down my temples. I joked that I needed a haircut (it was approaching the length I wore as a hippie in the late ‘60s) and she said I could get one there when I was done. I declined.

After my back and head she worked on my right leg right down to pulling on each of my toes just as she had done to my fingers. One thing about the hour massage, she spent more time on the details. All the while I was thinking that the reviewers who said everything was too clinical may have had a point although the massage was well worth my time there.

I knew what was coming as she kept running her hand through my ass crack as she worked on my buttocks. A little extra oil and she lubed up my cock and twirled it until it became as hard as it could while I was still lying on my stomach. She seemed to remember that I wasn’t into a prostate massage so she mainly kept her fingers out of my asshole. A little more oil and more stroking and I came in her fingers as she murmured something soothing and I groaned into the towel I had my face buried in.

She rubbed down my other leg as I caught my breath and I anticipated the flip and second try at an orgasm. I rolled over and she rubbed down my chest and shoulders. More oil and she brought me to attention again. I have to admit I was distracted by thought of the bad reviews and by her clinical appearance so I had a feeling I wouldn’t come again. I tried thinking of all the beautiful Asian women I had seen on the streets, the young pretty women in the salon outside the door, S’s ass that I had in my hand; but nothing I thought of triggered another shot. (Excuses, excuses.) After a few minutes of tugging and stroking she moved on to finish the massage. It was probably all the time she had budgeted because the timer rang as she wiped me down with the steaming towel. Neither of us spoke about the missed opportunity.

She helped me get dressed and we wished each other well. I walked back to the train station trying not to stare at the cute women on the streets.

The massage was very therapeutic but I couldn’t help being disappointed in myself for not coming twice. I guess it’s a macho thing. I had only time enough for a slice of greasy pizza before the train came, but plenty of time to contemplate my adventure. Next time I’ll break the habit and try something different.