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.