Not The Guy I Think I am

So, my last many postings are about my adventures during massages. And that for me it is the perfect balance to not really cheat, as my wife also provided permission for this solution to the absence of sex in our marriage (for the ones just checking in, because of a medical condition, sex is not something she can have often anymore) as long as it is by manual stimulation.

So, yes, I am such a perfect husband. Offering up my own desires to this partial solution that will get me through the time until I am permanently limp in about two decades :)

Well, nope.

Although I love the massages, and especially the one I have described in the posting before that was something amazing that still ranks very high on my list. I made the mistake to, at one moment, look happy ending massages up online. And there were two things I saw; the grainy hidden camera work showing what I also experienced; happy endings performed by hand until the release.
And then there were the high quality 'hidden cam' work that showed these overly beautiful girls that would halfway undress themselves, and end up going from manual stimulation to vaginal stimulation. Yeah, right! Not only that; but the 'hidden cam' also was able to change position all by itself? And in positions that you saw perfectly fine the girl reverse-cowgirl-ing the guy? Not a chance in hell!

Right?

Right!

I knew this was porn-fake. I absolutely did. Not in a massage parlor. But somehow I got to a blog of a massuese who indeed provides manual stimulation to her clients, and was addressing the 'full service' parlors and how to recognize them. She mentioned that the notion of a 'table shower' or the word 'acupressure' instead of 'acupuncture' are signs that they are full-service parlors.

They were real?

Also, she mentioned how they are not parlors but more brothels.

Fuck. Now this was on my mind. No, I should not. I did so very well of just doing this with the happy ending massages. I did not need to get my mind infested with these ideas. And the good guy that I am, I would not continue any research more in this area.

So, two weeks later I called up this parlor about half an hour away from my work. I had done my research, and this one actually got great reviews. Oh, sure, all kinds of reviews that describe everything in code-words. So, with just the research that I did and the deciphering of the code words, I thought I would do well. I read about the beauty of the girls, their 'soft services' etc. So as if asking a girl out for a very first date, I called up with my heart beating in my throat. I got a woman on the phone, asking if it was my first time, and that she was happy to have me over that afternoon and one of the masseuses would help me.

So, here I was. Trying to convince myself that I was just trying to find a new masseuse now that my favorite had moved to Nevada. Why do we guys do this? Trying to convince ourselves that we don't do anything wrong, and that it is just thrown in our laps? Sigh. Sometimes I am amazed by my own stupidity and ignorance.

Anyway. I ended up at this strip mall. Actually, a quite upscale one as well. But no massage parlor.

Not even in the back. I had no idea. So I called as the ignorant fool I was, mentioning to the lady on the phone that I had no clue if I was in the right area, as she mentioned to me to go to this office and come in. I was looking amazed. There it was, hidden in plain sight. I would never expected this to be something else than a contractors office building. I walked in, had to ring a bell, and an older Asian woman opens the door, very politely, and guides me through a very clean and well maintained beautiful building and gets me into a room. She mentioned that 'she' would be with me in a moment.

And there I was. And had no clue what to do. With my regular legit massage I know to get naked, under the covers and just lay there. With my slightly less legit massage I know I have to get naked, lay on the bed and forget the covers. Here? I had no clue. So I stood there. Waiting.
After a couple of minutes in comes this beautiful woman, in a gorgeous dark green corset, high heels and beautiful long fishnets. When I say beautiful, she was more beautiful than the overly beautiful ladies I saw in the porn movies about the massages. And she was surprised why I was not undressed.

I confessed to her, I had no experience in this, and was quite nervous. She looked at me, probably with a slight hint of a red flag, who knows if I was from law enforcement. But she decided to help along. Mentioned to me to pay the house fee up front, and then while she would handle that, I would get undressed and wrap myself in the towel she pointed out. And so I did.

She came back, got me out of the room and guided me, while I held on to my towel for dear life, to a spacious luxurious bathroom.  Within it was a table that she had just cleaned (with my spouse being an MD, I am very well aware that 'cleaning' would not clear off the previous guy's germs  completely ;) But then, I am a guy, so, I did not wonder about that. It looked clean: good enough!).
She had me lay down and started to shower me, turn me over, joking slightly of that I am hard and that that was not her doing... really? I mean, I know what I got myself into, but do those lines and jokes really work on people. On the other hand, I did not care, because I made likely a stupid remark as well.
I had to admit, I loved her touch. Playful, not really massaging there, but I guess you did not come here to get a good massage. And after a while she dried me off, got me back into the room and asked me to lay down on the table again. And this was clearly a real massage table like the many others, only much wider. But it was comfortable, and laying on my front, she started to massage my back. Not bad actually. I was pleasantly surprised. Also when she climbed on the bed, sat down on my buttocks, and started to massage more thoroughly. The satin of her lingerie felt so good, and her firm thighs around me as well. Fuck, I wished every massage would be like this. And when she bent over I felt her bossom press against my shoulder blades. It just felt good. I would be the happiest guy if this was just it.

The flip-over came, and of course I could not hide my arousal. And she started massaging me. My legs, my belly, chest, arms, hands... ehm? She pushed it out of the way to massage the inside of my thighs, but there was no attention for my penis.
What the fuck?

"Is there anything else you would like me to put attention to?" she asked, as it was nearing the end of the massage. Fuuuuuuuck... I am terrible at this. I hoped this would just go nicely, but here I am, laying there, and she calling my bluff about being inexperienced. Well, I was, but I think she thought I was full of it.
So, stuttering, I mentioned that I would not mind if she might perhaps put a little bit of attention to my appendix showing a certain state of arousal. Softly, like I asked her something she never heard before, she touched me, held me softly. "This?"
I nodded and I think I croaked some kind of sound that should have confirmed my agreement.
"Ok" she said and she started to jerk me off softly.

And truth be told, she did that very nicely. Here was this beautiful woman in very sexy lingerie, giving me a wonderful hand-job.

But fuck. That is what I get at my not-so-legit place as well! And there she knows me, what touches I desire. I did not come here for that. And the clock already mentioned there were only 10 minutes left. No! Please, don't let her make me cum like this! Yes, I know, I am never satisfied ;)

"Can I... could you... can... please... see you naked?".

She stopped, looked at me as if I said something so very wrong. Put her finger in front of her lips.

"Please?"

Again, more firmly now, her finger in front of her lips and looking at me more seriously. Did I say something wrong? I had no clue.

She walked out of the room.

What the hell? I was confused, and most likely certain that a gorilla of a guy would walk in to throw me out because I might have said something that would have been against some kind of rules. Shiiiiiiiit!

The woman came back. Locking the door behind her. And she stood next to me and looked at me again, pressed her finger once more against her lips to show me to be silent, and started to undress.
Wow... I can honestly say she had the most perfect body I ever had seen. Beautiful in proportion, nicely tanned but not overdone, and absolutely amazing. She held up a little packet, tore it open with her teeth and removed a condom out of it.
"Lay back" she just said, and climbed on the other side of the table and crawled between my legs. I never had a condom be put onto me this quickly and professionally. And as she had done, she took me in her mouth and started giving me a blow-job.

Now, although like every other guy around, sex with a condom has its advantages: against STD's,
against pregnancy, and on top of that, you last longer. The negative, you only feel the pressure of the condom against your cock. No wonder we last longer, because you feel absolutely less, no matter what they say. But, in this case, this woman I did not know and who was clearly a professional, I was happy altogether already. But, the blow-job, even though it looked like she did it well, was hardly something I experienced. The visual though, to see her taking me inside of her mouth, was something that definitely made up for it.

She came up, crawled next to me and told me to move over, that she wanted to lay there and that I had to come on top of her. And there she was, gorgeous, all naked in all her beauty, her legs apart, and looking at me, smiling, and telling me to put it in her softly and not all the way because it would hurt. I thought that was some kind of 'making me feel good' talk because of course I have such an enormous one. But it actually seems to be that it was a bit too much. Fuck, she was so tight and she guided me with how far I could be inside of her. Far enough to feel absolutely amazing, even with the condom. And there she was, even if I would have felt nothing through the piece of rubber, it would have been amazing. I enjoyed every moment, and although I wanted it to last forever, she at one moment squeezed me so tightly that from the feeling that I could hold on for hours, in one thrust she got me to explode in her. Wow.... never experienced that before like that.

I noticed the time, our hour was over. But she told me to lay next to her for a bit. There was no rush, and I did. She cuddled up next to me, held me close, and we layed there, talked a little bit, for about 5-10 minutes. After that, she got dressed, as did I. Not completely conform the standards there, I guess, because she mentioned that she usually dresses her clients. I tipped her, and she guided me out, gave me a hug and a kiss at the door, and there I was.

So, yes. It is actually like those videos. The problem was now, that although it was absolutely wonderful, it did not feel right. So, a beautiful woman, very sexy, does everything I wanted, ended with some fantastic sex. And it just did not feel right.
Not in some 'guilty' kind of way - which I should because there is always the thought in my mind I just have taken advantage of this woman. Although I did not have the feeling she was not into it, or that she might not do this for all the right reasons; you never knew.
But it was not even that. And it was not a guilty feeling towards my wife, which I also of course should have. But I talked that up in my mind as this being not a relationship, not an affair, it was a one time thing.
No, it was like the same thing as with a one-night-stand. Worse. I paid, she pretended to like me. I was not special. She was. Not I. It was indeed just that, a business transaction. She had a product I wanted, and I was willing to pay for it.

Wow... that is when that feeling hit me. As gorgeous as I though she was, and perfect she was to me, I was just a guy. Who would have known that that feeling would hit me. And that was really the weird thing; it was just that, like going to a regular massage, there are therapists that I like, and ones that I did not. And like with any other job, that feeling would be the same for the therapists versus their clients.

Don't get me wrong, I did not fall in some kind of depression. I love to still have her on my mind. Because next time I will tell about that following experience over there... because even though that feeling caught me by surprise... it is a memory I still have fondly in my mind.

But... there is no doubt about it, my days that I would just be happy with the happy tug at the end seemed to be over.

Or weren't they?

Did I get the hots for my Masseuse?

It has been a while. Sit down, it is so nice to see you again. Yes, I know, too much time has gone by.
Yes, I remember writing about sex, liked my advice? Or the stories?
Good. I am glad you did.

Well, I was not able to keep that going? What not? Ah, the thing of being still this honorable guy, finding ways to incorporate some level of sex in my life outside of my marriage and still do it in such a way I would not feel guilty.

I failed miserably.

Oh, the marriage is fine. Better than it always has been. The sex still is most present by its absence and as I posted in my previous postings, over a year ago, is that I found a lot of release in the massages that provided me a happy ending. Actually, I shared this also with my wife, who actually did not mind. As long as it happened by hand, she saw it very much as a solution as well.
Keep in mind, as a refresher, we both knew very well that the void that existed in our sex life for my wife's medical reasons, had to be taken care of in some way to release that stress. And these massages seemed to be a wonderful solution to the problem. And they were.

One day, at the end of last year, I ended up with a problem at work; I sprained something in my back, and it hurt like hell. It was not something massive, but my left shoulder was all but working painlessly. But my regular legit massage place had a fully booked day. But, they mentioned, they also had a chain store actually close to my work. So I called them. And they would check what they could provide, as they had someone quit her job that morning, so they had a problem in their planning. They would call me back.
Ten minutes later I got that promised call. They could not take care of it, but, the masseuse that quit also had her own side-business, and she would take care of it if I wanted to based on the credit I had with the chain itself, and they would cover the costs out of my account. The only issue, I had to drive to her place which was in downtown Philly. I got her information, called her up, and she was nice and sounded proper, and would take care of me that evening.

When I arrived at the place, I wished that I had not. That was not downtown Philly, that was down and scary Philly. She was waiting on the front-porch, to help me get in. As it seemed to be, she did not have a side-business, but needed the money and planned to move back to Nevada. And she lived in with this family that clearly had money to spend on buying dope than spend on their kids.
The girl itself was a very nice, polite, and very talkative woman, blonde, semi-attractive but against better judgment I walked in. She guided me to her room upstairs and told me to undress and lay down on the table.

As appearances could deceive, she gave an absolutely amazing massage. Firm, but not too painful, and it helped. She could not walk around the table she had set up, so she stood on other furniture to actually get to me. And she kept talking, yap yap yap, but I cannot deny, the massage was great. Period. A solid legit massage and she put my shoulder back into working condition. During which I heard her life story, not a sobbing story, but one of a woman who knew she made all the wrong decisions, and now had to deal with the consequences, and she was. I liked her. Honestly liked her. Not my type of woman, but she was a strong, honest woman not taking shit from life.

I got dressed, she gave me a hug, and I was on my way.

And she was on my mind. Not in a sexual or romantic way. But I genuinely liked her, and with the holiday season coming up asked her that I would like to plan another massage before she would move out to Nevada, and that I would not mind paying her in advanced. She was happy, and send me her PayPal information to get her the $70 for the hour long massage.
Fuck it. She had two sons, I had seen where they lived and I had some extra left, so sent her some more and told her to spend it on some gifts for the holidays.

Two weeks later we had the massage planned, now in a hotel near my work as she stayed their until their trip a day later. She welcomed me excitedly. Told me how much I helped out and that she appreciated it so much and not ask for anything. She had me lay down on the table, and now she could walk around it, and massaged me. My back again done so perfectly. I honestly wished she still worked, because it is hard to find a masseuse that does everything right.
I turned over after I completely lost track of time, listening to her constant talking. I really liked her, her massage was perfect, but the talking. Opening my eyes I noticed that her jeans had gone and she was massaging me with her bra and panties on. I looked, but did not actually talk about it.
I heard more about the misery of her past. But again, not in a whiney way, a 'feel sorry for me' way, but literally like 'I have gone through that, I can beat anything'. A fire, and 3rd degree burns on her body.

What?
I had not seen these when I looked at her.
I told her so.

"Oh, absolutely", and she un-clipped her bra, and showed me a barely noticeable, but definitely a scar on her right breast.  Of course I had difficulties focusing on the scar. It looked almost like discolored skin than scar tissue.
"My body handles scars really well.", she said. Looking at it herself. "Touch it. You will feel it is really soft, and not thick as it usually is with people."

Fuck. She did ask it? Who am I to ignore it. And I touched her skin just above her aureola. It indeed felt like normal skin.

"Third degree?" I asked. I have seen scar tissue a lot before, and my wife being an MD had a lot of material about it as well. And never was a major scar almost so very well blended in the normal skin as it was with her.

"Don't believe me? I had both my boys with a c-section, and take a look." she said, and she pulled her panties a little bit down, not enough to see things that really started to interest me, but - well - what do you know. There was clearly the mark of a c-section, also discolored, but not the slightest bump.
I did ask softly, more because my throat dried up than anything else, if I could touch it.
"Sure", she said, got my hand and rubbed my fingertips over the scar but the panties snapped back over it.
"Wait". She pulled down her panties, stepped out of them, and placed my fingertips against it again. "See?".

By that time of course I had no interest in that piece of scar anymore. "Can I... touch it?" She looked at me with a smile, stood with her legs slightly further apart and said "Sure you can."

As I had my hands between her thighs, my fingers feeling the moist edge of her lips, it just all felt so weird. She continued massaging me, and nothing sexual about the way she touched me. Which could not be said about me. And she kept talking, even as a finger slid inside of her, and I felt how easily that insertion took place.
At one moment she stopped, looked at me, smiled and then softly touched me. Lotion was unnecessary; I have quite a lot of pre-cum. She gently played with me as my hands discovered all of her body.
Were my experiences with the other masseuse that once the soft touch starts it is ending pretty soon, this woman took her sweet time. Talked, giggled, massaged a bit regularly and then went back to her business pleasing me.

I asked her if I could maybe, please, lick her. And she told me I could not, those were services that she did not provide. I said I understood. I did, but my body did not.
It took actually an additional 30 minutes before she brought me to my climax.
She told me to keep laying down as she cleaned me up, then pointed me to the bathroom for a shower or a bath. I did, and as I came out, she came to me, still naked, hugged me, gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that she loved it that I did not push myself on her and that she enjoyed my company. If it was real or not, maybe related to the elevated pre-payment did not matter, she honestly gave me a wonderful feeling. Besides giving me an awesome massage, an incredible sexual experience, she actually made me happy.

When I walked out I noticed that she has massaged me for almost 4 hours.

Sadly enough, like said, she moved back to Nevada. I actually still email with her, and she keeps me up to date how she is doing, how life is treating her, and sometimes those emails are very happy, sometimes heart breaking, but they still feel very honest.

(No, the photos don't show my masseuse, although she looked like her. I thank teentugs very much for letting me - eh - borrow - the photos :) )