Breakout session

Finally an opportunity arose for a discreet trip to a spa during a weekend conference in the big city. It was close enough for me to make day trips so I didn't have my evenings free to roam, but I thought I could make a getaway during the Sunday lunch time. I planned ahead and carried three phone numbers (in priority order) of 'offices' in Chinatown that I would try when I got there. I wanted to try someone new so the first was an experienced woman who specialized in two pops, the second a small storefront that was said to be consistently good, and a third place I had been to before (as a backup).

On Sunday I sat through the keynote speakers itching to get away. I figured it was a 2 & a half hour trip - walking to the subway, the ride across town, another short walk to the neighborhood, the hour-long massage and the return trip. I would miss a short panel discussion but should get back for a breakout session I wanted to attend. When everyone broke for lunch I rushed out the door and headed tot he subway. One thing I didn't count on was the massive street festival going on between the conference center and the train station. The streets were packed with tourists, vendors of all kinds, street musicians, all packed together like a Thai chicken strip.

Finally down to the subway which of course was running on a Sunday schedule and then back up the the street for the 10 minutes' walk to Chinatown. I broke my own rule and used my cell phone to make my calls instead of a pay phone. Priority call 1 said she would be available in 20 minutes. Sorry, I said (and I was), I can't make it. Second on the list is known by the color of its store front, a florescent orange entry way into a brick brownstone tucked away in the overlap of the ethnic neighborhood and university medical buildings. She said 10 minutes was fine and I arrived to find a tall 30ish and quite handsome Asian man and his apparent young daughter eating lunch in the sparse entry room. I just called, I started to say just as the door to the back opened and a short older woman (mother/grandmother?) beckoned me in. She had a bobbed haircut and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll.

I followed her down a narrow twisting hallway to the very back room next to the rear exit door which was open on the back alley. I paid her and she said in her very limited English, Wah wah? It took me a minute to realize she meant shower. Yes, shower. I didn't think I had time so I politely declined. She left me to undress and came back to laugh, You so t'in! I get that a lot - these women must see a lot of overweight men. I asked her name; F-F she answered. OK... One thing about these little entrepreneurial shops, the massage is usually great, & this was no exception. The stress and strain of rushing to get there was melting away. I'm sure she's had lots of experience; and it showed at the end when she began a nice long light-touch tease, up and down my inner thighs, along my butt crack, brushing my balls and growing cock. It was enough for me to forget about how old she is.

I turned over onto my back at full attention and F-F asked, could she take care of that? Oh yes please, by hand; I made the universal handjob motion. She seemed relieved that I wasn't asking for more. She globbed on the oil and started a nice slow stroke as i ran my hands up and down her nicely toned legs, albeit outside her pants. She adjusted herself so I could reach inside her bra. She apologetically indicated she is pretty small, and I'd have to agree. Lots of padding in the bra but it didn't have to hold up much flesh. It was OK with me - I was never a big tit man.

But just being inside the bra of a woman that was playing with my pecker was enough for me to lose it big time. She cooed and giggled a little before she left for hot towels for cleaning me up. Shower now? I took her up on it this time given the amount of oil I could still feel even after a she wiped me down. She gave me a robe and flip flops - I tried not to think about who wore them last - and led me back down the hall to a little nook with a basic shower with black and white checked tiles on the floor. I felt much felt better to have washed off the oil. I dressed and hurried back to he subway, the street fest and the conference center where I was 20 minutes late for a session I wanted to see.

I ate an apple and a cookie for lunch (actually the afternoon break) and then grabbed some chicken delight at the street festival, enjoying a little girl-watching before heading for home. I was early for my bus out of town so I reflected a little over a whiskey at a nearby bar, taking notes about my trip on a cocktail napkin.