Decision

I knew I had a decision to make as I made my way by bus from a meeting north of the city. I wasn't sure I wanted to patronize a spa I had been visiting regularly after a not-so-much-fun experience the last time I went there. But knowing my own indecisive personality, I had a feeling I would not decide until the last minute. And so it was - I was riding down the road weighing the pros and cons of the same-old and the sort-of-new when I approached a viable alternative. Decision time. It wasn't exactly a boycott (yet) but I thought I should try something new. Besides, this bus route had a stop right across the street from a spa I had been to several years ago. Not bad memories, so that weighed in on my decision. Also, I'd have to walk a half mile to get to the other and it was pretty chilly out.

My alternative spa is in a refurbished factory with other businesses on either side and an adult bookstore next door. That side of the building faces the street, although recessed a little. Off the bus I headed toward the motorcycle shop on the right corner and took a quick left - I hoped I didn't look like I was slinking; I always fell like the proverbial pervert - and walked quickly to the door and rang the bell.

A middle-aged Asian woman opened for me and invited me in with a big smile. S was a little shorter than I am and wore a loose sundress kind of thing that hid a little extra weight. I followed her down a corridor and into a small dark room where I went through the normal routine of paying the house fee and got undressed as she left for a few minutes to prepare the shower.

I love table showers even when they are not done in a teasing way. This one was pretty straight forward although as usual in places like this, she really made sure my cock, balls and asshole were so thoroughly clean.

As I dropped the towel and lay down on the table back in the room, S ran her hands over my back and said in her limited English, "You so t'in!" Again with the weight observation. "I'm so fat..." I couldn't really argue with her but to be polite I said "No no no," and added, "Very pretty." And she was.

I was relieved when she started to work without oil so I wouldn't worry about getting rid of residual evidence when I got home. The massage wasn't bad; I asked for medium pressure and that's what I got. I was starting to fall asleep by the time she was finishing up with my calves and feet but then she started a soft touch massage, running her fingers over my legs and ass, barely touching my skin. I ran my own fingers up and down her smoothly shaved legs up under her dress and around the elastic keeping her panties on her thighs. For me, all this works just like rubbing a dog's stomach until his legs start scratching the air; her soft touch got my cock rising under me & I had to lift my ass to relieve the pressure. She knew I was ready for the next step.

I turned over and S teased my skin a little more to bring me up to full mast. She left me for an agonizing minute to get her supplies and turned the lights way down low when she came back in. I was hoping she would drop her top and that's just what she did to reveal rather full-sized tits for me to fondle. After drizzling on the oil she began a slow stroking toward a finish that I knew couldn't last long since I felt like popping from the first oily but soft grip. She lifted one leg up on the table to give me access to her pussy and I got as far as cupping it in my hand, feeling the wiry bush through the outside of her panties, and running my middle finger along her crack before I came all over her hand.

She slowed down and squeezed every last drop out as I started deflating into mush on the table. I know she cleaned me up, that I got dressed and left because I found myself at the burger joint across the street watching out the window for the next bus.

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.

If my memory serves me well

Due to a lack of opportunities, I've had quite a dry spell lately. Between work and home schedules I haven't had much time to play at anything, let alone having time to 'play.' I couldn't squeeze out more than an hour by myself in a long time; if I weren't so busy I'd feel like I was wearing What's-her-name Lohan's ankle bracelet.

So I have been trying to remember details of a spa visit I made a few months ago that was generally pretty forgettable. Actually, it was memorable for one thing as explained below.

I had the use of a car for a whole morning when everyone else was at a picnic and I ostensibly needed it to buy some paint & supplies for a house project. Of course that didn't take long and since I was in the neighborhood, I beelined it to the place I've been to many times. I go there mainly for the out-of-the-way location when I take a bus and the discreet parking when I drive. The service is uneven and I was hoping to see S, the proprietor, who gives a great massage, is very friendly, and is generous with her happy ending techniques. However, I was greeted by C, who just doesn't measure up to her boss. But what the hell, I'd go with the flow.

It was still early and when she asked if I wanted a table shower I said yes, but she asked me why - didn't I take a shower at home? I said I got up early but I found it odd that she seemed to argue with me. I thought the customer was always right. She washed me down anyway and didn't show any annoyance even though I figured she just wasn't into working so early (it was probably 10am).

The massage was pretty standard - at least they do a pretty good job of loosening muscles up. C is not the stereotypical svelte long-haired Asian woman, but one with a little heft to her & her own muscles could use a little toning, but who am I to judge. She still has all the right female parts which I was able to caress as the rub progressed. She knew what I was after and after she was done with my back I turned over & she got the lotion ready, turned down the lights amd without much teasing, started stroking. She seemed still like she wanted to get things over with.

In spite of her perceived attitude, I had a stiffy after roaming under her dress and into her blouse. She unbuttoned and pulled down her bra for my viewing and tactile pleasure. I was also gently pulling on her panties to get my fingers into the her crevice when she surprised me by putting one foot up on the table and pulling aside her underpants to allow me access to her pussy. I got a couple fingers inside her surprisingly wet hole just as I was coming. She let me rut around in there until I stopped pumping out my jism and then put herself back together to go out for a hot towel while I caught my breath and zoned out for a minute.

But I had to do it. I brought my fingers up to my face for a sniff and the smell kind of grossed me out. It smelled like C could have used a good douche or at least a shower of her own. I'm glad this isn't a full service shop - I wouldn't want to put any other body part in there; who knows what's lurking in those folds of flesh. I think C knew about her little problem because the first thing she did when she came back with the towel was to wipe off my fingers, even before getting rid of the spunk on my stomach.

Well, I vowed to avoid this place for a while & I have, but not by choice. But looking to the future I can see an opportunity coming up in a couple of months when I will be traveling right by there with a couple of hours I won't have to account for. Knowing myself like I do, I'll probably make the decision to go or not jist as the bus approaches that stop.

Unscheduled workshop

It's been a while since I had a meeting or a conference in the big city so it was about time that I finally had the opportunity. I wanted to try something sort of new; I had been reading about a woman I visited several years ago but who moved to a new location in Chinatown. It was easy to find her business - second story in an office building on a busy side street. It's called a beauty spa but I doubt any women go there. One guy on the Internet said waxing was offered to him - waxing his back. ewww.

I called ahead and was buzzed in Seinfeld-style in a discreet doorway.

No stairway in sight in the small foyer so I had to take the elevator which led to a twisting bright hallway of identical hollow core doors with discount brass numbers hanging in different anglesled to one with rooms on either side. I was counting down the numbers when the door at the end opened and I was greeted by M who was looking her age as probably late 40s. The owner is A whom I saw several years ago. I made sure M knew I was 'there before She said A would be in later thinking, i guess, that I was asking for A.She took me to a small room with just a curtain for a door. I hoped no one else came in.

The bad thing about these entrepreneurial shops is the lack of a table shower. Oh well. I paid the house fee and got undressed & when M came back she complimented me on my 'nice legs,' soft skin, thin body. (That makes up for the TS.) She started a medium massage but felt pretty hard. She did work out the knots in my shoulder and back because of my back pack. She was doing amazing work with such small hands; she used some oil but I wouldn't be home for many hours so I knew my clothes would wear it off. Every now and then she would ask how I was doing - always answered Thank You to what ever I said.

Standing at my head she gave my back some long strokes, ending in my ass crack with ever so deepening penetration. The first hint of a hard-on. M put a towel over my ass but moved it to get to my thighs. A little brushing on my balls here and there stirred my juices. I shifted for the rising tide, but her massage kept up so I ebbed and flowed, depending on how close she got to the boys. More compliments on my legs. No complaint when I ran my hands over her Jeans shorts and up her back to the side of her bra.

Asked me to flip. I thought there would not be any tease which usually happens right be fore turning over. I was half hard and about ready to be stroked. She saw me adjust myself to give my cock some room and she laughed, taped it a little and said Later. She worked on my hands, arms and legs some more. This time there was more sensual stroking at the top of my inner thighs with some unmistaken contact with my balls. She moved my growing cock aside with a giggle so she could get to my other thigh. She gave me a nice foot massage while I wondered if we would ever get to the main event.

Finally, her fingertips ran all over my legs and torso, slowly concentrating on my genitals. She whispered something I didn't quite understand but I took it to be a question whether I wanted a happy ending. I started to say Please do, but she said, No talking, Shhh. I knew someone else was in the office (A?) so I just nodded. She brought me to full attention and let it go to squish some more oil on her hands and came back to apply it for my hand job pleasure. Oiled up hand jobs would bring me to my knees if I were standing up. I could only bring my knees up and spread them out while I arched my back. M, very discreetly at first, put some pressure to bear with one finger of her other hand at the base of my cock and slowly inserted it into my asshole. I'm not usually a big fan of prostate massages, but I thought I would let her go until I got uncomfortable.

I got my hands under her shirt and into her bra to discover very small tits swimming in a padded bra. I could grab both of them with one hand. She stroked me steadily, whispering, almost with a giggle, my first name with a 'y' at the end over and over (If my name were Dave, she would have called me Davey) alternating with, Nice guy, and Soft skin. I know her cooing doesn't sound very sexy, and I'm not crazy about the infantile variation of my name, but her efforts brought me to the inevitable conclusion. I exploded with my legs wide apart and my ass off the table. I didn't realize how deep her finger was in my ass until she took it out. I suppose it added to the final shot.

She ran out to flush the Kleenex she caught my spunk with and came back with hot towels to get the oil off.. While I was zoning out she finished with a little head massage and surprised me by putting on my socks while I was still lying down. Then my underwear.

I finished my own dressing and M led me out to their lobby to meet A again. She looked different from what I remember, thinner and longer hair, and she probably didn't recognize me. Then again, how many men has she seen in the last 3-4 years since I went to her other shop? She either assumed she had met me or pretended to as we hugged like old classmates.

They had to point me in the direction of the elevator as I lost my way at the other end of the hallway. I went down and out into the sunshine and headed for my conference, picking up my life after my lost hour in Chinatown.

Leglislating morality

Circumstances usually determine my voyages to adventure. A meeting across town put me on the path to the same old, same old spa - up the back stairs behind the trailer and stockade fence in the quiet neighborhood. I figured I deserved a belated birthday present to myself. This may be the last time i can do this with impunity. A new legal crackdown was in the works and I was climbing the stairs at the same moment the legislature was debating changes in the law. But for now...

J answered the door wearing red baby doll lingerie with a thong, I presume, underneath. She's tall with tons of make-up, probably in an attempt to cover her age, and looked more American that Asian. However, her English was a little broken and she giggled at everything including their possible closure because of the crackdown. She is only here for a couple of weeks so she didn't care what happened.

She took my fee and led me to the shower when I was undressed. I kept checking out her ass as it kept flashing from under the baby doll when she was stretching to wash me. Nice shape at the top of some really long legs.In spite of the padding I could tell she had pretty big tits as she knelt dot dry my legs, my half hard cock nearly grazing her nose. Tall and big-titted - not the usual petite cute women I usually see at the spas.

The massage was surprisingly good for a woman in heavy make-up and sexy lingerie. It's hit or miss at this place. J had no objection to running my hands up to her ass - I had to stretch to reach the top of her legs, but she had no objections that was being so obvious about what I expected.

At the end of the massage I was disappointed there was no tease; she just asked me to flip over and then asked the inevitable question, "You want handjob?" Why, of course.

She was off to a nice start, dropping her thickly-padded top to let her heavy, full tits with long hard nipples fall out. I went for her thong, outside first, feeling her mound through the little triangle of cloth. I just had to pull down the front, I ran my fingers over grizzly hair with loose lips - some wet and sticky vagi-flesh was hanging down. I went past it to penetrate but she backed off and so did I.

Meanwhile, I felt like I was going to come too soon and I wanted to prolong the experience so I held her hand and tried to stop the eruption. I thought I had but I could feel liquid seeping up and out. I figured it was pre-come. She resumed but I was going limp. Did you came? she asked (and almost giggled). I wasn't sure - but I was sure that I wasn't getting hard again. J didn't help by just lightly stroking rather than picking up speed.

Oh well, can't win them all.

We both shrugged and she cleaned off what there was of my seed and I got dressed. She joked about whether they would stay open in face of a crackdown. I suggested they use a password for regulars. She thought that was funny (like everything else) and She suggested the password be 'handjob' and laughed again. I told her that was too easy to figure out. I walked the 45-minute route home to let my clothes rub off some of the oil and to get the sandalwood soap smell off of my neck and shoulders. I wondered if I would be able to make any more of these little getaways.

The crackdown passed and on the six o'clock news the next night, there was the local investigative reporter doing a stand-up on the sidewalk by the front door of the spa I had been to the day before. November sweeps. I'm glad I didn't become part of the story.

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.

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.

Woke up, it was an Asian morning

And the first thing on my mind...

A Saturday morning and I bus it downtown for a few hours of work in the local library. Well, actually a couple hours of work and one for fun. Of course, fun comes first (so to speak) so I take a short detour through the outskirts of downtown where large office buildings converted from factories, night clubs, and parking lots border on the more active areas of theaters and restaurants. I had read only one mixed review about a new spa that opened near there almost a year before so I figure since I am in the neighborhood and it's too early for my favorite strip club to be open, I would give it a try.

It's on a second floor of a two-story building with a real estate company on the first and a multi-story office building directly across a narrow street. I planned my trip for a weekend because I just had a feeling I would know somebody working up there and watching the spa door for us perverts who seek a little relief from anonymous women. The real estate company is closed too and the street is deserted so I don't feel so paranoid opening the heavy door with the large SPA sign right above it.

It's a long narrow wooden staircase reminding me of the spa/brothel staircase I encountered in one of my travels. A real fire trap. It's early summer but a lighted artificial Christmas tree sits on a stand outside the interior entrance. I ring the bell and a cute Asian woman greets me with a smile and says I'm her first customer. Inside it's softly lit with candles and indirect lighting with flowers in vases on stands in front of lavender walls.

Standard procedure - she shows me to a massage room, takes my fee and leaves me to undress. She returns to lead me to the shower. I ask her name; in broken English it sounds like Candy, so I go with it. The table shower comes close to being a massage in itself. As I lay on my stomach Candy uses a soaped-up loofah to give me a good scrub and then her bare hands to give a nice firm rub, gliding over my back and leg muscles and making sure my asshole gets the same treatment. I turn over for more scrubbing of my chest and legs. She asks, "OK wash there?" pointing to my half-erect cock. A cop check. "Oh yes, please." She makes sure I am very clean there. My cock makes way for cleaning underneath by rising higher to involuntarily get itself out of the way so she can clean my balls. A couple quick soapy strokes to really tease me and it's time to rinse and dry off.

Back to the massage room which is really hot and steamy. No problem drying off completely. I am impressed by the massage. I ask for medium pressure and she is very thorough, spending lots of time on my backpack shoulder and on my neck and head muscles. Her foot massage is really a turn-on although her toe popping added too much levity to stay too focused on the bulging dick underneath me.

She turns the lights down and asks my permission to give me a light massage. Time for the tease. The soft music makes things very relaxing but I'm a little distracted trying to figure out where it's from. In fact, I've been wondering what nationality Candy is - she looks Chinese to me but I know most massage parlors in the area are Korean. I'm afraid to ask directly not wanting to appear to be an ugly American insensitive to the rest of the world.

The tease is wonderful. She runs her fingertips ever so lightly across my back, my ass, and my legs. That's my cue to begin some fingertip roaming of my own. She is wearing a tank top and a jeans skirt with pantyhose under it. I run my hand up her legs and reaching her pussy. I can feel her lips bulging through the hose and she makes no move to discourage me. By now she is concentrating on my ass and brushing against my balls and the tip of my cock which is getting wonderfully uncomfortable as it bulges under my own weight. I have to raise up my ass to relieve some pressure giving her more access to my private parts.

Time to flip over and she continues the light touch on my chest. I move my hand over her ass and under her top and feel the sweat on her back. She seems embarrassed and says apologetically, "Hot in here." Of course I jokingly suggest she take her shirt off, figuring that like most of the rub & tug establishments, masseuse nakedness is frowned upon. To my surprise she asks, "You give good tip?" Oh yes. Off comes the top and bra to reveal nicely shaped, smallish tits offered to my hands and to my face for a little sucking and smooshing.

"You want hand job, blow job..." I should have waited for more options just to see what services she provides but I tell her I'd like it by hand. I try to be safe, and covered blow jobs just don't do it for me like bare back. Besides, a well-oiled hand in the, well, hands of a professional can be quite exquisite. And this is no exception. She takes her time to build up the excitement as I wander off into the tactile fantasy of soft skin, perky tits, erect nipples, nylon-covered pussy lips, and the other sensual enhancements of soft music, dim lights and the scent of a woman as she focuses on my pleasure.

I explode all over. Candy brings me down with lighter stroking and squeezing and a last brush of her breasts against my face with its mouth agape and a question whispered in my ear, 'You OK?" I manage to smile and she does a minor clean-up before going out to get a hot towel to make sure all traces of my come are gone. While I am immovable, she finishes up with a facial and head massage; just enough time for me to drift back to reality and to gather my forces to stand up.

She announces that she is done and I stand groggily and look around for my clothes. She doesn't help me get dressed as some others do, but sits smiling on the massage table. I get up the nerve to ask what king of music is playing and she says Chinese realizing that I really cannot tell the difference among Asian nationalities. She laughs about it in a friendly way but underneath she is probably writing me off as a typical racially myopic American white man. As promised, I tip her well and she escorts me to the door and we hug goodbye. "Come again!" "I definitely will." At the bottom of the stairs sunlight is shining under the door and I wait as a couple of foot shadows pass by. Out into the sunlight and I resume my life; another hour lost to pampering, pleasuring and sensual delights.

Day off

There are times in my old age that I still feel like a teenager. And I don't just mean that I am as randy as a teenager.I should say a teenager on curfew. It's like I go to school all day and come home for homework and family chores. Always have to account for my time. Never a deviation from the schedule without a good excuse. The longer the time away, the better the explanation has to be. And with the number of people living in my house, time alone is almost non-existent.

So when there is a good chunk of time when I can be alone with no one to wonder what I'm doing with my time, I tend to go a little wild (for me). Like the Tuesday I took off to work at home. By an act of fate I had most of the day to myself and actually only a little bit of work to do. After everyone left, I waited a reasonable amount of time and then walked off to my neighborhood massage parlor.

No one was around on a weekday morning before coffee break. I ducked in and mamasan introduced me to C who was finishing up her breakfast and lead me to the nearest room. The sauna was very hot for that time of day, but the table shower brought me to my normal body temperature. C giggled when I flipped over and showed myself at full attention. She made sure I was nice and clean.

Her massage was a little hard for me, really getting her thumbs under my shoulder blades. On the flip began the tease. It was an arch my back, throat-constricting kind of tease brought to a head by my caressing her ass and digging into her bra and rolling her nipples around. Finally the oil and the stroking and the shooting stars. She did this little trick of gently squeezing my tip making me shoot a lot farther than I usually do. The clean-up and a cuddly walk to the door and I was on my way home.

Lunch and a little work, but the empty house is too much of a temptation. Open up another screen and then yuvutu. Porn clip after porn clip. I can still work when everyone starts returning. Facials, cowgirl, car sex, voyeur clips. I can jerk off sitting right there at the computer. What a concept. Another clean-up and back to work as my time runs out.

Got a lot of work done, ran a few errands, had a little lunch, be finished soon. I'll be ready for my husbandly duty later.

Shelter from the storm

A full Saturday morning all to myself, and my car was available to boot (not the Denver kind). I knew about my windfall of time for a couple of weeks so I did some thinking about where I wanted to go but since I am a creature of habit, I went with the massage parlor I've been to a few times. It does seem to be the local benchmark establishment for the Rub & Tug crowd, including me, so I knew I would not be wasting my time. The good news is that it is predictable; the bad news is that it is predictable.

It was a stormy morning, very windy and rainy. I did have to make an excuse to some of my family, but they shrugged off my announcement that I was going shopping. I'm surprised they were not suspicious since I almost never just go shopping. I went close to their opening time thinking it would not be too crowded but I decided not to park in their parking lot in case someone I knew would recognize my car (I know people who live in the area). There were no cars parked there when I drove by, but it took me a while to find an inconspicuous parking spot and by the time I walked up to the door, there were a couple of cars in the lot. So much for being the first customer.

Mamasan let me in and quickly brought me to a room so I would avoid any contact with other men (I could hear someone in the shower room). She took the house fee and left me to undress and a few minutes later T walked in. I recognized her from a previous trip - a tall and thin Korean woman with long (artificially-colored) thin hair, and of course looking much younger than she probably is. I'm sure she didn't recognize me with so many patrons she sees, but she was friendly enough as she took me by the hand and lead me to the table shower where she warmed the table with hot water, asked me to lie face down, and soaped me up, smiling all the while.

It must have been early - T suppressed a cough as she was working on my ass - a unusual break in the routine. She asked me to flip over and made really sure my balls and cock were as clean as my well-scrubbed ass. Nothing like being so pampered - having a beautiful Asian woman giving her full attention to my body, cleaning, rinsing and drying me off as I stood there admiring her figure under her tank top and short-shorts.

Back to the room and a great massage. I don't think she missed a muscle as she worked extra on a few tight areas and stood on by back using the soles of her feet to give broad, strong strokes to really straighten me out. Another cough or two brought me back from the harem fantasy to the reality of flu season but by the time she was done with my backside, you could have poured me off the table.

She segued into the light touch massage, running her fingers over all of my body and somehow always ending near my ass and the back of my thighs. Each pass of her fingertips would graze my balls and my rising cock. Unconsciously, almost by reflex, I raised my ass to allow for more growth - I must have looked like I was presenting like a cat in heat. I certainly was in heat; I was getting to be in dire need of a release, so much so i could feel the tension in my throat.

Finally she asked me to flip over, just in the nick of time. My cock burst loose and pointed at the ceiling, throbbing its purple head and looking like I might pop a vein. T knew very well what ailed me and came up with a handful of oil from under the table and went right to it. She didn't object to my stroking her tight little ass and thighs, and reaching into her tank top and even into her bra to caress her size A tits. The whole hour was a one-way trip to nirvana and except for the minor distraction of a few coughs, I reached it on schedule and came all over her hands and my loins.

The pampering continued. She cleaned me off with a hot towel and left me in reverie while she left for a few minutes. She came back to cuddle and to slowly bring me back to reality. As a final bit of customer service, she helped me put my clothes on. At that point I needed help because I was so totally relaxed I wasn't sure I could use my legs to stand and walk. I tipped her and she took me by the hand again, checking quickly for other patrons, and lead me to the door. I told mamasan that everything was wonderful and headed out into the storm. A quick stop at a store to say I went shopping and home to resume real life.

It's a beautiful night in the neighborhood

I know a lot of people in the neighborhood so I pass by the spa all the time. It has a huge sign displayed on a busy street and I always wondered if it were legitimate or not. The internet postings about the place were not very illuminating until one day I rode by and saw the police swarming in and out and the discussion livened up. Apparently, they found only a masseuse working without a license and the spa was not shut down for sex. Which seemed ironic since some said they used this place as their benchmark on good massages.

So after a quiet couple of months with things apparently back to normal I figured I would find out for myself what kind of services I could find there. I had some time to myself one Saturday evening and since I was in the neighborhood, I figured I would stop by. I knew that people who expected me home were distracted by other events and I was hoping my friends in the area were too. I drove by at dusk on pretty deserted streets. Even the main street had light traffic. I parked around the corner and hugged the shadows as I made it to the front entrance.

There was a small foyer right inside and I said hello to a face in a sliding wooden window. The mamasan welcomed me into the spa and led me to a room at the end of a dark corridor. She collected my fee and left me to undress. The lighting was low in the room already but I was able to read a hand-written sign that said, "Tips appreciated, but do not ask for sex." Must be a concession (or a notice) to the police department.

N came in to lead me to the shower room - she's short, late 30s probably, wearing black pants and a low-cut white blouse with bulging tits, maybe from a push-up bra. Have I been here before? Well, no But I have been to others like this. Maybe she'll buy it. I don't look at all like I could be a cop.

We went back through the corridors and through what looked like a kitchen area complete with under-cabinet lighting and into the shower room. I knew the routine from other AMPs so I waited for her to wet down the table and then lay down on my stomach, there's nothing like being soaped up and scrubbed down by a lovely woman. After I flipped over she made sure she cleaned off my half-hard cock by jerking it off a few times, giggling as she did so. We didn't say much to each other - her English was not so good - but somehow I knew I would have a happy ending.

A few minutes in the sauna and back to the massage room. I lay down as N turned down the lights and adjusted the mood music and draped me with a towel. Good, no oil. I asked for medium and she did a good job over the towel, even doing handstands on my back. There was no opportunity for accidental touch for me to send a certain signal. When she was done with my back but before he flip, she asked if I were OK while caressing my ass. I grunted agreement and she left for a minute or two leaving me wondering.

I didn't have to wonder much longer. N came back and began a light touch tease all over my back paying special attention to my ass. She eventually concentrated all her teasing on my balls, inner thigh and ass with the occasional brush against the tip of my cock which was making its presence known as I adjusted myself to give it some room. She reached under the table and came up with a small bottle and dribbled oil on my balls and cock and with very gentle hands, caressed everything down there until my throat was closing up and my breathing became heavier in anticipation of a great release.

I had to flip over and offer the next muscle that needed massaging which was making no bones about it (so to speak). Oiling her hands and my cock, N began a slow stroking that made the world stop then and there. I watched her and took a mental picture of the scene of this Asian woman seemingly enjoying herself as she pleasures me. She was close enough now for me to politely run my hands over her ass and down her blouse and she offered no objection.

She built up her intensity and I had to let out some very appreciative moans as I climaxed. She had just the right touch after I came, leaving my very sensitive head to itself as she stroked my shaft to drain me completely. I would have followed her anywhere except I'm not sure I could have stood up at the moment.

N had a wet hot towel to clean me up and to my surprise, she lay down next to me and nuzzled up to me. We cuddled for a few minutes while I regained my wits. It was a nice finish to the nice finish.

The streets were dark and still pretty deserted as I left. No one at hope noticed the extra hour I was gone. I'll have to wait to see if any of my neighborhood friends will say they saw me.

It was escalation, I know

I was visiting relatives in another state for a few days and of course I read up on the pleasures afforded there. Stories of streetwalkers were abundant but out of the question for me, and the massage parlor scene suffered a severe blow not long ago as a legal crackdown closed most of the ones nearby. However there are two still open within a half hour drive and I was hoping for a block of time I could just disappear for a while.

For me, the trouble with reading the forums is that a lot of the postings describe full services from the providers, not just oiled-up hand jobs. All out sex in multiple positions with a young Asian woman is a great fantasy and it doesn't take much (other than the right amount of money) to make that happen. I generally settle for the happy endings by hand but I just had to try something different after reading all the detailed accounts of FS encounters. It may be an escalation in my mongering, but my little head did my thinking for me on this trip.

My chance came the first morning there. I had a three hour window but I wanted to use some of that time to stop at a state park to set up my alibi - to give myself something to talk about when I returned. I borrowed a relative's car hoping no one would recognize it parked in an unusual place, but since it was about a half hour's drive away, I thought it would be safe. With the help of the internet forum and Google maps I found the place pretty easily and parked on a shady side street. Luckily there weren't many customers at the donut shop as I walked by and rang the bell on the small white building that sat between the shop and an auto repair business.

An older mamasan let me into a small room, took my massage fee, left me to undress, and a minute later K walked in - a tall thin Asian woman all smiles and giggles with a-cups and wide hips in a blue bikini. She led me to the shower room. There's nothing like lying on a table and getting soaped up and scrubbed down by a young woman aiming to please. K gave extra special attention to my asshole when I was on my stomach and even more to my cock and balls after I turned over. I was definitely clean.

K left me alone for a few minutes bask in the massage room and according to local custom, I left her tip in advance on a small table. It was enough to tell her I was interested in full service. I'm sure she got the message as she slipped out of her bikini when she came back to begin the massage. I thought I saw a little glistening below her neatly trimmed mons. The massage was pretty good; she found and worked on a few tight places on my back while she maneuvered herself on the table with me.

Sooner than I expected K began the tease. I suppose she wanted to save time for sex. She ran her fingers very lightly over my back and along my legs, again giving some attention to my ass. Soon her long thin hair ran along the same tracks as her fingers followed by a few passes with her lips. By now I was raising my hips to give my cock some room to grow, in effect presenting my ass to K's caresses. With her hair draping over my cheeks, she leaned in, spread them and began licking, darting her tongue in my asshole every few licks. I usually don't like any intrusion up my butt, but this was pretty exhilarating I have to admit. My hard on pushed my ass up even further into K's face.

By the time K asked me to flip over, I was ready for the main event. She pulled out a condom from somewhere and put it on me with her mouth, beginning a soft and slow blow job. She paused to lie next to me and cuddled, complete with (fake) cooing and nibbling around my neck. Her tits were so small I had to push all the flesh I could find together to feel as though I had a handful of mammary even though her nipples seemed to be full sized and fully erect.

She climbed on top, straddling me and lowering herself on my unit. I was right - she had pre-lubed herself so we began a slow and juicy fuck. Cooing turned to moaning and caressing her breasts became a two-handed affair. I was off on a coital reverie.

After a bit K climbed off and invited me to get on top. We got into missionary position and rocked in rhythm with more fake moaning and girlfriend-like cuddling and nibbling. I can usually go a long time but the novelty of a liaison with a young Asian, the excitement of anal rimming, and the overall teasing combined to pull the trigger as I pumped away. I had hoped for a little doggie style but i was too late (too early).

I know K is basically a prostitute, but I think I kept myself from being too rough on her or perhaps not as hard as she's used to experiencing. How many stories have I read about men who treat anonymous massage girls, strippers and streetwalkers like dirt? Maybe it's because I didn't know her that I gave her more respect than a lot of mongers would. I wonder if I'm missing something.

K cleaned me up and dressed me. She was giggling and cuddling as she led me out to the back door. On the way back I stopped at the park for a map with hiking trails and had a story ready. All was quiet. No one was the wiser, perhaps not even I.

Entrepreneur in a back room

I was on business in the big city and as usual I had a couple of hours to kill before my train left for home. Of course I had done my homework online and in the local free paper that has all the sex ads and I was interested in a couple of massage places in Chinatown. Both had pretty good and plentiful reviews as the usual forum group was looking for a replacement for the locally famous 2-pop S who apparently retired and left the country. So I narrowed my decision down to the two and their phone numbers burned a hole in my pocket all morning.

I made the calls while walking to the train. One number was busy and a woman with a thick Chinese accent answered the second. She gave me the address as said she was in the back of a hair and nail salon, so typical in this area. I estimated my time of arrival and made an appointment. I discreetly pulled out my pocket map of the city, trying not to look too much like a tourist and saw it was a side street in an area I was sort of familiar with. But not so familiar that I wouldn't get lost. I ran late and I rushed through the neighborhood in the general direction passing by restaurants, open sidewalk markets, clothing stores, and plenty of nail salons, all with gaudy neon signs in Chinese characters. I wondered how many offered back room massages.

I went up the stairs and into the salon. I intuitively knew the massage room was in the back so I walked by the hair dryers, manicure tables and cubicles with everyone too busy to notice me, and I saw my masseuse waiting by the door to her room. She introduced herself as A. She's probably in her forties and was wearing a red pullover with brown corduroy pants - not very sexy, but very friendly in her greeting. Her room was dimly lit and very small, with enough space for the table and a chair, and a small alcove in a corner to keep her supplies. She took my money and left me to get undressed. Soft Chinese plucked string music came from a small CD player and my eyes finally adjusted to the soft, warm light as I piled my clothes on the chair.

A came back and asked me to lie face down. It was a real massage table with a hole to put my face in. She began a friendly conversation that ran through most of my visit. Of course she asked if I had had massages before and I told her I had seen S several times and luckily she knew her (S is apparently famous and well-respected). I knew I had passed the 'Are you a cop' test. As she dribbled a little oil on my back she exclaimed that I was so skinny - she even thought I might be a little cold and spread a towel over my ass.

I learned a lot about A and about China, She said she has been in the country about four years and loves being here and loves working on her own. According to her, in China people are forced to retire at age 50 to make way for younger workers. She asked about my job and my retirement and I said in spite of my age, I don't see retirement in my near future.

The conversation got a little more personal as A moved down to my legs and feet. We talked about local restaurants and whether I liked Chinese food. (Duh...) Picking up on the skinny theme she worried that I get enough to eat. "Who cooks for you, your wife?" came out of nowhere and I answered Yes without thinking. She showed no reaction and talked some more about food and health. I guess women in this business don't talk about any moral dilemma they may have about providing sexual relief for married men.

By now I realized that I was relaxing more and more under her expert hands - I was getting a great massage. Unlike the massage parlors that promote their sensual services, there was only the briefest tease, if you could call it that, as she brushed my private parts incidentally when she worked my upper thighs. No hot breath, no light fingertips on my ass, no reach under for a cock-raising massage.

A did not talk as much when I flipped over and her massage of my chest was a little more like caresses than kneading. I took the opportunity to test the waters by gently and politely copping a feel or two on her legs and ass, and up along her waist toward her tits. The corduroy pants were kind of a turn off but I knew that they and her shirt would not come off. She reacted to my exploring by loading up her hand with oil and bringing my half cocked cock up to full attention. My moan apparently told her it was alright with me and she began a steady slow stroking. I grew a little bolder and really caressed her tits, albeit through her shirt and bra. Some of her earlier massage may have been done in vain as I arched my back when she began to pump a little faster.

The release was wonderful. I wanted to ask her if hand job training was included in whatever courses she took in Shiatsu massage. Her technique was pretty straight forward, but some masseuses know how to bring a man to the brink and down again a few times before the final blow. Maybe that's part of the advanced course.

A cleaned me up and finished with a gentle head massage (my big head). She continued her polite client/masseuse conversation as she helped me get dressed. I gave her a generous tip and we hugged goodbye. As I was walking back through the salon I got a 'look' from a blonde Anglo hairdresser who I suspected did not approve too much of the back room. Maybe she felt her tips were not as big as they could be.

I tried one of the nearby Chinese restaurants recommended by A and headed back to reality aboard the 3:45.

The sanctity of massage

To resume the story of my recent trip, and to try to balance the profane with something more sacred, I saved the morning before my colleagues arrived in town for a therapeutic massage. I had scoped out the online ads and sex forums and decided to visit J, a licensed massage therapist who had gotten good reviews and seemed to know what her male clients expected.

Luckily, the mass transit system was pretty easy to figure out. One of the bus routes had a stop about a block away from my destination. I got on the bus early just to be sure, and left downtown with its offices and restaurants, rolled through the college district with academic-looking buildings and coeds with musical instruments, and dieseled into a mixed neighborhood of brick and wooden row houses, dry cleaners, and convenience stores.

It turns out I was too early so I stopped for a coffee at a local greasy spoon and then walked around a little. It seemed like a pretty safe working class neighborhood. What stood out, in addition to the blocks and blocks of row houses, were all of the churches. There was every denomination and just about every kind of architecture - cathedrals built of stone, modest cement structures, ostentatious steeples, storefronts with hand painted signs. The streets were so quiet and solemn on this weekday morning and I imagined the stained glass windows rattling from massive organ pipes or painted-over display windows shaking from the Sunday night gospel singing and dancing.

J's place was in what looked like a former brick mansion once owned by a sea captain or a captain of industry that was now divided into offices. Insurance agents, a barber shop, financial services. I met her outside after some confusion about the time. A thirty-ish black woman, she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, not what you might expect from someone about to give a sensual massage.

I followed her into what used to be a formal greeting area but now holds an empty reception desk piled with papers. On the left a former sitting room, now filled with several more desks and piles of paper. Next to the missing receptionist the grand staircase, finely appointed in dark mahogany, was still grand, and I followed J up the creaky, musty stairs that bore several generations of families and businesses.

The stairs wound around in a full circle and on the second floor landing, next to a full length mirror, tucked into a corner, was the door to J's room. A tiny space - there was just enough room for the massage table, a chair, a huge steam radiator, and space for her supplies - it was probably once a servant's room. We were both glad the radiator was working and J turned the lights down low and left the room while I undressed. The so-called closet was so small, the hangars could only fit in at an angle so I stuffed my clothes in as best I could.

J came in as I was lying face down on the table, covered my ass and legs with a towel, and put some new age guitar music on her CD player. I wondered about the towel, but she advertised not only on the legitimate therapeutic forums, but also in the erotic. I also read reviews of her services that really left no doubt about a happy ending.

The massage was very thorough - she left no muscle tense. We chatted a little. She sees 3-4 clients a day and sets her own hours. After more that four massages her hands and arms get fatigued. She talked about the neighborhood which is quite safe, but like other cities, one block can make the difference between affluence and desolation row.

After finishing my back and arms she moved the towel over one leg and worked on the other. Her brushes against my balls every now and then gave me hope and some hardening around the arteries down there. A strange sensation - almost lulled to sleep by the relaxing hand work yet stirred by anticipation of orgasm.

J asked me to flip over and she again covered one leg while she worked on the other. However, when she was at the top of my thigh, she had to move the towel a bit and it became obvious that my anticipation had overcome my sleepiness and was making itself known in no uncertain terms.

She finished with my toes, slathered more oil on her hands and carefully and sweetly wrapped her fingers around my cock and began a slow stroke. I must have sighed a little and she hesitated, then asked, Do you want me to stop? Oh, no please continue. And she did. And it was good. There's something about an oiled-up hand job, especially after being rubbed down so expertly everywhere else, that draws something primal out of me - my whole sense of being focused on those few square inches of skin and muscle engorged with blood, sending a feeling through my core and out of my throat as guttural moans.

I was able to run my hands over her ass and up to her tits, but I didn't really need the extra fantasizing since she had my attention focused so well. It didn't take too long for me to release and I couldn't move a muscle. I don't know where she got it but J produced a steaming hot towel to clean me off and I thought I was going to come a second time then and there with the sensation I got. If someone asked me what year it was right then, I'd be hard pressed to answer.

She finished up my other leg, worked my chest and head a little and we were done. She left the room and I dressed myself (no subservient Asian girl help with my clothes). We hugged on my way out and she seemed genuinely grateful for my tip. I walked out of the building feeling tingly all over. I felt like I had been through a religious experience. I think I saw God in the second floor storage room of an converted mansion in an old east coast city with the help of God's angel of mercy and a bottle of oil.

Feeding the addiction

I knew I couldn't live long without another massage by a cute young Asian woman. So I jumped at the opportunity to visit the same massage parlor when I was at a meeting at the same place across town. It was a cold, windy day, and as I walked the half mile or so through a residential neighborhood I was really looking forward to a nice warm table shower and nice warm hands heating up my blood.

Everything looked quiet as I approached the building - no police cruisers, no prying neighbors, not many cars in the parking lot. I quickly walked up to the back door and rang the bell. I expected to see the same older mamasan greet me with exaggerated enthusiasm, but instead one of the younger women let me in and led me to a small room off the main hallway.

She introduced herself as L and asked if I had been there before. It felt good not to have to lie and I said yes with a knowing smile. She smiled back, asked for the massage fee and told me to get undressed. She left long enough for me to get naked and returned to bring me to the shower room.

L was very friendly but not very talkative. She poured a bucket of hot (but not too hot) water over my back as I lay face down on the vinyl covered table. She scrubbed me down with a sponge and did a very thorough job getting every nook and cranny. I got on my back and L repeated the scrub down giving some extra attention to my private parts. Which weren't very private anymore. I stood up and she rinsed all the soap off and dried me off with a white fluffy towel.

I expected her to bring me to the sauna to finish drying off, but not this time. We went right into the massage room where she made a ring out of a hand towel for my head and asked me to lie face down. Of course the massage was great. They really do it right at this place, and it's consistently good. In fact, everthing (except the lack of sauna time) was the same as my last trip - low lights and soft music, not much conversation, extreme pampering, making sure I was comfortable. I don't know if there is a dress code, but L had the same kind of black tank top and bra, and short jeans shorts as J did on my last visit. She even looked the same - small facial features, tiny tits, long, straight jet black hair. The only other differences were that L used no oil or powder and she draped a towel over places she wasn't working on. That didn't faze me since I assumed the ending would be the same in spite of the seeming modesty.

L found some tight muscles and worked on them for a while, eventually moving from my upper body down to my legs and feet. Before I knew it, she subtly started the teasing phase of the massage. I knew it was coming as she changed the force of her touch to a light, fingertip-over-the-skin movement, concentrating on my lower back, ass and thighs, and stimulating my cock with each pass. But what really drove me to distraction was her hair. She leaned over and followed her fingertips up and down with the ends of her hair. It sounds like it should tickle, but it got me hard as a rock and I had to give my cock some room.

She took that as a signal and asked me to flip over. Just like J last time, she reached under the table and came up with a handful of oil and went to work on my shaft. She really got into it, letting her hair down again to get my nerves tingling on my front side. I roamed a little with my hand, running it up under her top but only over her bra this time. (Even though she had very young looking features, the little fleshy bulge around the bottom of her bra beneath her shoulder blades made me think she was older.) I couldn't resist caressing the side of her face, it was so pretty. She leaned into the palm of my hand seeming to appreciate the more intimate touch. As I came close to coming, she started cooing in almost a whispered chant, "Oh yes, oh yes." that put me over the edge and another muscle released its tension.

L cleaned me up and helped me get dressed (something I'm still not used to). I left my tip on the table and neither of us said a word about it. We hugged and she escorted me to the exit. A cold blast of wind greeted me on the way out. I zipped up my coat and hunched my shoulders against the cold. I could feel the muscles in my shoulder and neck tighten up - I guess I will just have to carve out another visit to work the kinks out.