Field trip

A weekday holiday, everyone off on a field trip, all day with a car to use; what's the first thing to do? It was an easy answer - take my own field trip - a pilgrimage to the benchmark rub & tug place across town. It's an AMP known for good massages, younger women (look 20, are really 30), happy endings, but never any hands inside their clothes. You can't have everything. At any rate, I had been looking forward to my free time for a while.

I parked around the corner and the place looked busy with lots of cars in the lot. A greeted me and brought me into the room by the entrance. Mamasan must have been escorting or choreographing other customers so nobody saw each other. During my hour I heard at least 4 customers leave and just as many come in.

They've gotten sexier here - instead of the typical tight short shorts, tank top and padded bra, A wore a black teddy that showed off her best assets. In the shower my towel came off and she said hello to Mr. Ding-dong. I waved Mr. DD back at her in greeting. It was a good thorough shower & A made sure Mr. DD and his two pals were nice and clean. He rose to the occasion so she could reach well enough underneath.

A was very friendly with good English skills; her body looked young but her true age showed around her face. She said she used to run her own AMP in another state for 10 years but it got too tough - she just wanted to work in another shop & save up money.

It was a good massage but it was not very relaxing with all the action going on outside the room. She was on the table a lot using more than her hands to rub me down. She straddled me while working on my back, grinding her mound into my ass with the rhythm of her strokes. It felt like she was trying to get herself off on my tail bone. She made sure her tits encased my head when she worked on my shoulders. She almost humped my leg as she kneaded my ass cheeks.

Eventually came the light touch massage, the one where her fingertips circle closer and closer to my ass and balls. The kind that tingles the skin and gives rise to Mr. DD who is already forcing my ass to stick up in the air. The kind that makes my erection feel like it has its roots in my throat.

We both know when it's time. I have to turn over to give Mr. DD his freedom. A turned down the light and brought over supplies. After getting me all prepared with a handful of lotion, she got back on the table in a 69 position, her teddy-clad crotch in my face and her hands working away at the other end. She smelled sweet and there was a wet spot probably from rubbing her cooch on me earlier. It was a sexy way for a happy ending, but it preserved the house rules about roaming - I couldn't get near her tits with my hands, nor could I get into the bottom of her teddy for that matter. I had to settle for the sweet smell of pussy and my hands following the line of her lower back and perfect ass.

I got as much face time with her crotch as I could until I couldn't hold out any longer. It was a hot, tingly and very happy ending capped off by the outside door slamming.

I couldn't move during the time A went out to get stuff for cleanup. A quick head massage helped me recover to the point where I could dress myself - with A's help. We hugged and she checked the hallway before I went to the door, said goodbye to Mamasan and left. I did my perv walk to the car and picked up my day where I left off.

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.

Go west, old man

I couldn't wait to leave for my four days of house sitting for a relative in another state. Four days of being by myself with only cats to feed and plants to water. What an opportunity to get down to business without having to look over my shoulder wondering who would see me skulk into a strip club or into a massage parlor. I could even go outside of my comfort zone to try something a little more daring than I'm used to. It could be a few days of total decadence.

Even before I left on my trip I started looking for escorts, amps, casual encounters and other online opportunities. Of course, online sex searching is isn't always all it's cracked up to be. I tried searching escort sites for someone who would catch my fancy, but in a state with a lot of CL busts, I knew I couldn't really trust the ads. Even on my favorite internet forum, escorts want referrals from members - they don't trust us either.

I know that craigslist casual encounters has a lot of scam artists, although in the past I have corresponded with real people, but nothing ever came of it. I tried one ad after I arrived. It sounded great, didn't care about age, seemed legitimate, even mentioned a local cafe to meet in. Received a response tight away, but of course it was a link to her webcam business.

Even that web site for married people having affairs - I looked for women that had anything goes or one-night stands listed in their preferences. I sent messages to two who lived nearby but never heard back - one probably hadn't logged in in months and the other had to have seen my message, but decided not to respond.

I knew the local strip clubs are pretty lame so I didn't even try, but I knew a little about the local AMP scene. I had been to one south of where i was staying a couple of years ago but I wanted something different. Besides they had been busted at least once after I had been there. The one west of where I was staying sounded promising, although it was a full service joint (like the southern one). The R&T scene is too spread out for me & they mostly are suspicious of new customers according to all reports.

So I figured I would go west. On the map the place looked easy to find - right off Main Street in the small city. My stay coincided with a holiday - a parade holiday (not a candy, drinking, or Hallmark card kind of holiday) and I figured I could be discreet and pay a visit on parade day when the police are occupied by marching or providing security. I'd go mid morning when the place is just opening and everything (& everyone) is getting a fresh start for the day. Luckily, I checked the local online newspaper; the parade was scheduled to proceed down Main Street just as I would have been drive through town. I was only a little disappointed to postpone my trip for a day. I had to make due with porn and Wesson oil.

I found the place easily the next day. It's a small city, with more than one exit off the highway; Main Street is old school - small businesses, government offices, a library, and churches galore. I found the side street and the parking lot behind the building, an old converted clapboard house across from a big white church. The door next to the rear entrance was open and I said hello to mamasan as she was drying dishes in the kitchen. She ran around to let me in the official entrance and led me through a maze into a small room, the smell of burned garlic morphing onto sandalwood scent from somewhere..

A minute later in walked C, short with natural tits in a blue bikini top and black hair in a pony tail. With a hint of shyness and submissiveness she asked me the standard question, have you been here before, in squeaky, broken English. I told the truth, No, but I've been to [the AMP south of us}. She dropped her guard and said in a conspiratorial way, 'Then you know...' 'Yes,. I know.' No more pretense - we both knew why I was there. I paid the house fee and while C left me to get undressed, I left her tip on a small end table.

C took my hand and led me to the table shower where she made sure I was clean all over. Back to the room and I lay down on the massage table. Actually it was just a bed with a hard mattress stuck up against a wall-length mirror. This is definitely not a legitimate massage facility. She began a rather perfunctory massage, or really just the beginning of a massage, rubbing generally around my back and shoulders. After about only five or ten minutes of this she began the light touch teasing that was surely the signal for the main event.

Lowering the lights and removing her bikini, C continued to tease me with her fingertips up and down my back and legs, making sure she paid attention to my inner thighs. I was getting hard and starting to raise my ass up to give myself a little room underneath. In fact I thought it might be time to flip over, but after attempting to move, C put me back in my place. She had her own routine and I was going to follow it. I'm glad I did. With my ass still elevated, she began kissing me all over, up and down my back and legs and finally ending up at my ass. Actually, in my ass. She licked my asshole and balls until I couldn't stop squirming. I just had to release my hard on. she let me flip over and I finally got a good look at her naked body. What a beautiful woman. And she knew it. Throughout the rest of the session she watched herself in the mirror as much as I did.

After some cuddling and caressing, a little exploration of her inner self with my fingers, she knelt between my legs and gently began stroking and leaning in to kiss all around my shaft and balls. I closed my eyes and reveled in the pleasurable sensations but I was called back to reality when I felt her mouth start to cover the tip of my cock I was concerned she wasn't using protection but when I reached my hand down to stop her I realized she was putting the condom on with her mouth. It felt so real. I relaxed and went with the rhythm of her mouth and hands as she slowly worked on me. I peaked at the mirror and got a three quarter shot of C with her face in my lap, her tits swaying gently, and the curve of her back and ass undulating with with every slurp.

Between the tactile and the visual, I didn't want to climax too soon but before I went to stop her, she knelt up, clearly on her own timetable, straddled me and slowly guided my cock into her wet (lubed, I assume) pussy. She started riding me, arching her back and starting to gasp and moan in that high squeaky voice that Asian porn girls make (I heard enough of that in the last couple of days), while I got my hands full of her natural Bs. The mirror images were particularly memorable - my own porn movie on a really big screen in real time not only with sound but also smell and touch. If only video could do that.

She got off me and seemed to wait for me to decide what to do next. I had her bend over the bed with her face close to the mirror and her ass facing me entering her doggy style. I began pumping as I enjoyed the show, gazing from her apple ass rocking right below me to her contorted sex (fake?) face in the mirror, and listening to the squishing below and the exclamations (also fake, I'm sure) in front. I also saw my own sex face (not fake) and took in the whole scene as if I were starring in my own porn clip. (I don't think it would sell very well in spite of how cute and sexy C looked in this position.)

Needless to say, we never made it to the missionary part of the program. I came long and hard as I reached around to fondle her tits. She did her best to fake an orgasm. We cuddled a bit and she went to get hot towels for the clean up. As I was dressing she posed in front of the mirror checking out different angles of her breasts. 'At [the AMP south of us} they like big tits,' she said, 'but I don't want mine bigger.' I told her please leave them alone, they're beautiful the way they are. You may think men like to look at big tits, but we like to feel them more and natural is better than hardened lumps. She agreed. I hope no one talks her into enhancements.

With more hugs, she led me to the back door and back to reality. I hope my relatives need a house sitter again soon.

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.

Things change

I found myself downtown with some time on my hands (unusual these days) on a sunny Saturday afternoon. I poked around until after 2 pm when lunch time is really over and I would have less of a chance to run into people I know who work around there when I head to my old favorite strip club.

I approached from the back of the building and saw that the popular restaurant across the street from the club was packing in supplies from a huge delivery truck that blocked the view of anyone sitting at their front windows. The privacy stars were lining up as I hooked a right around the corner of the building and made a bee line for the door.

I hadn't been there in months - long before the crackdown on adult services - but things didn't seem very much different. It was still dark and thumping with dance music with an overlay of perfume and beer in the air. (Luckily the no-smoking law keeps that layer of give-away scent out of the air.) I ordered a tonic & lime at the bar as my eyes adjusted to the dark.There were a couple of dancers shooting the shit with their regulars at the bar.

I took my drink to a table near the stage just as the last notes of music played for a cute white girl who smiled at me as she picked up her tips and walked off the stage. I assumed she had a Regular but she sat by herself in a cushy chair near the bar. I was surprised she didn't come over to hustle a drink or a private dance. I might have gone to her but I didn't have an idea of how 'nasty' she would be in the private dance area, Besides, my attention was drawn to the next dancer, another white woman with a few extra pounds on her.

I sat at the stage and she came over to do her thing in front of me. She seemed kind of sweet, had a great smile and showed off her legs, but kept her distance.I politely rubbed her leg and ass as she rolled around but there was no offer of exposing tits, let alone pulling her top down, for me to stuff dollar bills in. No leaning over to rub then in my face. She did show off her clean-shaven pussy lips, tightening her g-string up the middle so they bulged out. But again, no hint of a labia grabia.

That's about as hot as it got. No request for a private dance, no pressure, no twitching on the hard on meter. I sat back down at the table and looked over by the bar to see the first dancer still sitting there. Granted, it was dark and I could only see part of her, but she seemed to be sitting alone. I was beginning to realize that things have changed.

The next dancer on stage was a skinny black girl wearing the tiniest patch of a thong and a top to match. She had a very nice smile but there was more air dancing when I sat back down at the stage. Again, no hustle, nothing x-rated, not even a suggestion of a private dance. She didn't even pull her thong aside for a second dollar bill and waltzed away to slide around the pole and sidle over to other customers for more G-rated dances.

Meanwhile girl # 1 still sat in her chair, #2 wasnowhere to be found and #3 was in her own world. I was starting to pack it in to leave when I caught a glimpse of another larger white girl with an even smaller thong leading a customer, a regular I'm sure, to the privatre booths. The sight of her with those three tiny patches of fabric became of those images.that has burned itself into my memory.

One last look for #1 but she disappeared. I decided to cut my losses and go out to shop. I guess the new rules have really affected things at strip clubs, at least at this one. Maybe if I came here more often and got to know a couple of dancers and become a regular customer, I would be the one following a nearly naked woman into a booth for a little adult entertainment.

Oh well, you can't win 'em all.

Living dangerously

Living dangerously

With the so-called crackdown on prostitution still hanging over the monger community but with no real consequences yet, I decided to see if I could get in and out of a spa without any trouble. One weekday morning I was alone at home and made a spur of the moment decision to take the short walk to my neighborhood massage parlor at about the most opportune time - after work begins for the businesses on the street but before coffee break time. That way I could spend an hour there and be out before the lunch crowd starts moving about.

There was more traffic than I thought and I wandered around a little bit trying not to look too suspicious as I tried to time my entrance. I walked around the building next door and turned the corner to see only a few cars coming and a woman in a minivan inching out from a side street. I adjusted my gait so that I quickly opened the door as the soccer mom was still looking at the oncoming cars whose drivers were watching her.

Safely inside, I met S, a short Asian woman who looked vaguely familiar. When she mis-pronounced her own name, I realized it was the same woman who stretched me into a Gumby doll. I had residual good feelings about that trip so I told her I had seen here before. With the new crackdown I knew there would be less suspicion if they really knew I had been there before. Language was a bit of a barrier so I wasn't sure if she understood what I was saying, but it turns out it didn't matter.

The table shower was not very memorable but I could tell it was business as usual; S made sure my privates were nice and clean. Back to the room and to her energetic massage, once again using wrestling holds to taffy-pull all my muscles.

Pausing for a few seconds to turn down the light, S began a long tease, running her fingertips up and down my back and legs always centering he touches on my ass. She began to tease me with the rest of her body, snuggling her face into my neck, rubbing her tits against my side, reaching under for my balls. She had me raising my ass up like I was some cartoon mouse trap with my body propped up on my cock waiting to fall when the mouse reaches under for the goods.

All the teasing had me feeling my hard-on all the way up my spine and into my throat. I could hardly stand it and finally I flipped over. There was more cuddling and nibbling (her garlic & oyster sauce breath a slight distraction) gently stroking and teasing my body which was reaching some kind of nirvana.

S took a moment to oil up and came back to the task at hand, gently covering my cock and slow-stroking its length. She began an unusual technique that was very much like her stretching - gently pinching my taint where my hard-on begins with one hand while squeezing the sweet spot under the head with her other, stretching my cock from one end to the other.

With a little more cuddling (I knew enough about this place not to try groping flesh - clothes always stayed on the provider) and a little more stretching my muscle, she aimed my canon and I let go a rare shot to my chest. When my breathing calmed down, she let me go and went for hot towels.

We cuddled some more and she ran over my neck and head one more time before I reluctantly stood up to get dressed. S dressed me from head to toe - I haven't seen that in a while - and she made sure I remembered her name. She knows how to keep customers coming back.

She escorted me to the door and I caught a glimpse of a bus coming down the street. I had to jaywalk across light traffic to catch it, only a couple of homeless types within sight; business as usual in the new capitol of morality. And one more unaccounted, invisible hour in my secret life.

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.