Tag Archives: erotic massage

The fun of firsts

In the course of one mundane Monday afternoon, I managed to tot up a number of ‘firsts’ to add to my list of must-dos-before-I-die:

1. to experience a full-body orgasm

2. to be touched by a woman

3. to have paid for all of the above

The idea had sprung from conversations with Moriarty. We were discussing erotic massages and trying to find a suitable venue for him. After looking at some sites and harbouring a certain curiosity about what a tantric massage might entail, we agreed to go together, booking separate tantric massages at the same time and to swap notes over coffee afterwards. I can’t tell you how liberating it is to have someone to talk to openly about these things. The tantric massage was also going to be a first for him (though he has had plenty of erotic massages). We met outside the tube station in the early afternoon, both having dashed from various appointments to make it with minutes to spare. My day had been so busy that I had not really had time to think about what I was about to do or enjoy the full sense of anticipation that comes with trying anything for the first time.

The ‘parlour’ was in a non-descript flat a short walk from the tube stop. We were welcomed by two ladies wearing sarongs. They introduced themselves and quickly took us to their respective rooms. The air was filled with incense and I sat in an armchair opposite a young Australian masseuse. She had a very friendly and open manner and proceeded to ask me some general questions about my motivations and what I should expect. Once the money had been handed over, I had a quick shower and lay naked, face down on the massage table in the middle of the room. She began to pour hot oil over my shoulders, back and legs. She used her hands and forearms to massage my back and I felt her naked belly brush against my arm. Keeping my eyes closed I tried to block out all the distracting, day to day thoughts that tend to cloud my mind. I tried to concentrate on the sensations of her touch. Her hands circled my buttocks and would dip down, brushing past my cunt for the briefest of moments. It was a wonderfully delicate and light touch.

I lay on my stomach for the first 10-15 minutes, then she told me to roll onto my back. As I turned over I saw for the first time that she too was completely naked. I hadn’t appreciated that this was also how they massaged women. I closed my eyes again and she dripped the hot oil onto my chest, gently circling my breasts. Then more warm trickles on my stomach, legs and finally my sex. Her hands worked their way around my body, my arms, hands, legs and feet. Each time she moved up or down my body her hands would touch my cunt for the briefest of moments. When I felt relaxed and warm, her focus moved to my breasts. I have no idea how she did it, but after a few minutes of the gentlest circling and tugging, my nipples were erect and sensitised in a way I’ve never experienced before. Each time her fingers teased my nipples, I felt a jolt in my cunt. No man has ever touched my breasts in the same way, so lightly, so erotically. Gradually, her focus shifted to my stomach and thighs and finally her hands strayed to my pussy. I could feel her place two fingers either side of my clitoris, gently massaging the whole labia in a way that seemed to sensitise every fold of skin. I felt another finger slide inside me, touching me so softly, deeply. Slowly, gradually, every inch of skin became charged, I could feel my arms, hands and fingertips tingling, almost painfully, like having pins and needles. My limbs felt as if they belonged to another body, I could not control my facial expressions, my muscles spasmed, ripped me in two, only my mind floated above the scene. She masturbated me to an orgasm I will never forget. My entire being was consumed. It wasn’t just one point somewhere between my clit and my vulva, but everything, my feet, legs, arms, hands, fingers, face – all were taken over by a black wave. After climaxing for what felt like an eternity, she brought me back down gently, pressing her hand to my pussy in a calming, grounding way. I was shaking, shivering. She took each limb in turn and helped to relax the muscles back to a normal state. It didn’t feel like my body anymore.

Once I had ‘come down’, we chatted about the experience and she was incredibly open and pleased that I had enjoyed it so much.¬†She left me to shower and dress. My knees were weak and I smiled to myself as I dried and slipped back into my knickers and bra. Suddenly, the door opened and Moriarty appeared with his masseuse. I was so utterly shocked to be caught in my underwear, that I held the towel to my body and shooed him out of the room. Mistakenly, his masseuse had believed us to be a couple and thought nothing of ushering him into my room. I was mortified. He seemed very non-chalant about it, which made me feel even more awkward. The strange thing is, that although I can be open, strip naked in front of lovers, pose nude for a painter, book myself a tantric massage, I am still incredibly shy. Given our modus operandi of not being physically intimate with one another (due to the economist), I suppose Moriarty seeing me like that crossed a boundary I had mentally drawn in my mind. He now calls me a prude. Perhaps I am. But at least a prude who has three new firsts to add to my list.

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The masseur

When you least expect it….

The strangest thing happened to me yesterday. Checked into a hotel with the husband in the mountains. Both of us were exhausted after too much partying and so we planned to have an afternoon enjoying the sauna, jacuzzi and steam room of the hotel. I booked a massage to help a neck problem I’ve had for some time. The husband went ahead to the wellness area and I followed the masseur to the massage room.

He asked if I wanted just a back massage or full body. I plumped for just the back, explaining the problem in my neck. He told me to remove my top, bra and loosen my jeans. I lay down on the massage table and told him I was ready.

He came in and began rubbing his hands up and down my back. I closed my eyes and began to relax, letting go. Suddenly I felt something brush against my hand. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like his cock. I dismissed the thought and lay very still, enjoying the circular motion of his hands up and down my spine. Then he did it again. His erect cock brushed against my fingers. He kept it there as he massaged my shoulders, his tip touching my fingers.

I didn’t know what to make of it – was the guy a pervert? Or did he just have a little ‘problem’? I didn’t want to encourage or recoil, so I lay deadly still.

After about twenty minutes of his touch, he began to move his hands lower, to my arse. He pulled my jeans down and inch, exposing my bottom more and then ran his hands from my shoulders, down my spine to my bottom. His fingers slipped between my cheeks. I began to feel turned on and my mind raced at the possibilities. He yanked my jeans down again to reveal my arse and positioned himself behind my feet. He circled my cheeks and slipped his fingers between them, moving lower and lower until I felt his finger touch my cunt. I raised my head and shoulders and he asked if I liked it.
I made some quip about how this was the most unusual massage I had had. He said ‘what happens in this room stays in this room’ and I was torn with the dilemma of letting go and the thought of my husband in the room downstairs. A paranoia about hidden cameras flashed through my mind and I resolved not to risk it.

The masseur planted a kiss on my cunt and offered to give me a ‘special massage’ if I so desired. I smiled at him and said I should be getting back to my husband. As I left, I went to shake his hand and he kissed me.

Shakily, I walked to meet the husband in the jacuzzi. I wish now that I had let go and said yes to his special massage. Who knows what might have happened had I opted for the full body massage?

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