VO.TANTRA Heterosexual SPA that took me to heaven

page views:1 Publication date:2018-02-26

It's another weekend, and my husband's away on a business trip to Chengdu, leaving me alone at home, which is incredibly boring.
Looking at the quiet house, I feel a bit depressed. I want to find someone to go shopping and eat with, but after scrolling through my contacts for ages, I still don't know who to call. My heart is sinking.
I want to cry, I want something to fill my heart.
Then, I stumbled upon something on Weibo called "Opposite-Sex SPA," and a sudden urge struck me.
Not for any other reason than that I'd always heard my girlfriends talk about it—how comfortable, how enjoyable, it sounded like a high-class, novel experience. Having been here for so long, I desperately want to recapture that peak feeling of my first time.
On a whim, I contacted a Tantric aromatherapist named "Teacher Apple." In a brief conversation, we exchanged basic information and he suggested a special SPA that really intrigued me—something called Tantric SPA, I don't really understand the details, but it sounded pretty mysterious!
I decided to give it a try, since it wasn't too expensive, only around three or four thousand yuan. They said they were offering a free pectin buttock treatment if I
went. Sure, why even hesitate?
We arrived quickly, and a man was waiting for me at the entrance. After a quick conversation, I realized he was the "Apple Teacher" I'd contacted on WeChat. He was rather handsome, though quite thin and tall, like a bamboo pole. Wearing a waiter's uniform, he looked
very elegant. He led me up to the third floor, where there were about ten spacious private hotel rooms, and two steam rooms. From the outside, they looked like saunas, but once inside, I realized they were quite different. Unlike the typical wooden saunas, the decor was Mediterranean—not ostentatious or boring, but a balanced style that I liked.
I quickly emerged from the steam room, wearing only my underwear and a robe.
The robe was made of silk, with a superb feel to the touch and incredibly comfortable to wear, so light it felt almost weightless; I almost thought I wasn't wearing any clothes at all.
Following the waitress into the private room, I was immediately struck by how different the decor was from the sauna. This room had a classical, antique feel, with a captivating and lingering charm. The ambiance was so sophisticated that I almost hesitated to go in, afraid my vulgarity would taint the refined atmosphere.
Soft music played in the room—the gentle and serene "Rain's Impression," I remember it was written by Li Min oppa. I love piano music like that! The service here was truly delightful.
Without a doubt, just for the ambiance and the personalized service, even if the massage technique were terrible, I wouldn't complain!
The spa bed was very spacious; I had barely lain down when Apple, the masseuse who greeted me at the door, came in carrying a large tray. Three kinds of essential oils were laid out on the plate. He poured them all into a basin, stirred them by hand until they turned milky white, and the aroma was very strong, even making one's mouth water.
Soon, Teacher Apple finished the preparations. He chuckled and told me to lie down, then gently lifted my robe from behind and said I should wash myself.
Wash again?
I just came from the steam room…
But it was clear I had misunderstood the teacher. He ignored my small protest, somewhat forcefully pulling off my silk robe, folding it slightly and placing it on the corner of the bed. Then he picked up the showerhead, tested the temperature, and gently rinsed me, while lightly stroking my back, seemingly massaging some acupoints. At least my tense body quickly relaxed, and my heart gradually loosened as well, beginning to feel his warm, soft hands stroking my back. It felt so good.
After a quick, simple rinse, his hand grabbed the corner of my remaining underwear, and I quickly reached out to pull it away. He didn't argue with me. He leaned down and whispered a few words in my ear. To be honest, I didn't hear what he said clearly, but the cool warmth of his breath slowly entering my ear made me gradually drift into a daze. Unconsciously, I relaxed my grip, and when I came to my senses, the steaming hot water was already washing over my private parts.
I quickly buried my face in the luxurious silk pillow, too ashamed to look at his face.
Mr. Apple probably noticed my distraction and chuckled softly. He carefully rinsed my private parts with hot water, even gently pinching and straightening the folds of my labia, rinsing them repeatedly with hot water and stroking them with his hands. This feeling was really strange, but so comfortable. I instantly succumbed to this absolute pleasure.
After rinsing, Teacher Apple applied body wash to my skin, meticulously massaging every inch from head to toe. The sensation of her nimble, snake-like hands caressing me was incredibly pleasurable. I felt I had never experienced such gentle service, even with my husband.
Teacher Apple's movements were gentle yet swift. Just as a slight sense of regret began to rise within me, I suddenly realized her hand had lingered on my private parts.
I shyly looked up and saw a dreamy smile on Teacher Apple's face. She picked up a bottle of special aromatic essential oil from beside her with two fingers and told me it was specially formulated for cleansing the private parts, possessing remarkable medicinal effects and excellent health benefits. It was non-irritating yet effectively enhanced the sensitivity of the private area.
Teacher Apple carefully rubbed my private parts back and forth. It was the first time I had ever felt treated with such care, because I had never been so meticulous when bathing myself.
Then, she switched to a brush, somewhat like a toothbrush but very soft, and gradually inserted it into my private parts, gently rubbing back and forth.
This feeling was different from my husband's teasing; it wasn't as stimulating, but it was incredibly comfortable, a tender feeling of being cared for welling up inside me.
Teacher Apple's washing method was unusual; he used a spiral motion, going in and out gently, slowly and carefully. Then he added a few drops of shower gel, caught it with a brush, and inserted it into my vagina, scrubbing back and forth meticulously, leaving no crevice untouched.
Finally, when it came to rinsing, he took a disposable IV tube, connected it to hot water, and inserted the tube deep into my vagina, where hot water began to leak out. It felt truly magical; I arched my back, gritting my teeth and moaning softly, until the entire inside and out was rinsed.
A strange pleasure began to build up, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of self-reproach—guilt towards my husband and frustration at having felt desire rise within me.
Teacher Apple rinsed his hands under hot water, washing them very carefully, scrubbing them back and forth several times. After a long while, he finally shook off the water, applied essential oil, and rubbed his hands together until they were glistening with oil. Then he deftly sorted the oils, arranging them on either side.
Teacher Apple picked up a bottle of essential oil and gently poured it onto my lower back. There was a refreshing feeling, like jumping into a clear spring on a sweltering summer day. The intoxicating fragrance quickly filled the air, and I couldn't help but sigh deeply in bliss. For this alone, it was worth it!
The teacher's hands slowly applied the oil to my waist, moving back and forth, like drawing circles, or perhaps like practicing Tai Chi. The pressure wasn't too strong, gentle and soothing yet still providing a massage. After only a few minutes, the oil's effects kicked in, and my waist quickly became warm, like ants crawling on it, a little itchy. But when the teacher's hands moved away, the itching quickly spread to both sides, leaving only a strange, burning sensation.
I never imagined the feeling would be so overwhelming. The intense physical sensations from the depths of my being made me clench my teeth, afraid of letting out any unpleasant sounds.
However, it was clear that I was about to suffer a major setback.
Teacher Apple's technique was truly superb. She gently poured the essential oil from my neck down to my armpits, and then her hands, as hot as burning coals, gently rubbed it in. The pressure was just right, not too fast or too slow, and it didn't hurt, but my heart was quickly agitated. The burning flames within me grew stronger and stronger, and before I knew it, my whole body was heating up, and my back was breaking out in a fine sweat. When I felt the teacher's hands pass under my armpits, my whole body seemed to be electrocuted, stiffening abruptly before going limp. Over and over again, I found myself breathing heavily, not loudly, but with only soft music playing in the room, I was certain the teacher had heard me.
A powerful pleasure was gradually building up, and at the same time, I felt the teacher's hands caressing my vest. With her skillful touch, the rich essential oil quickly penetrated my skin. This feeling was truly intoxicating, so incredibly comfortable. The
teacher's hands continued to circle my vest, slowly extending to both sides, very slowly, until finally, they reached my breasts, suddenly tightening.
Zeus, this was the first time I had experienced such a joyful and pleasurable sensation. I subconsciously bit my lip, but still couldn't help letting out a deep moan.
I felt utterly humiliated this time. Unexpectedly, the teacher just smiled gently at me, but increased the speed of the massage. Her hands moved with incredible elegance, like butterflies flitting among flowers, sometimes pushing and pulling towards my waist, sometimes sliding towards my soft breasts, but never pressing directly on them. They would only touch them lightly, like a dragonfly skimming the water, then disappear without a trace, only to return again after a while, seemingly unsatisfied. My God, I finally understood what ecstasy meant! It was so beautiful, so cute, so stimulating!
Teacher Apple, who had been practicing TANTRA touch therapy, suddenly straddled me, gently sitting on my buttocks. Her hands moved more forcefully, lightly touching around my breasts. I was so weak I couldn't move a finger; I could only gasp for breath, my eyes wide open, unable to see anything. My entire being was focused on her hands—hands that, even before the main activity began, had already given me an intense, soul-stirring experience.
Teacher Apple continued to move her energy over my buttocks, applying TANTRA touch. After a while, she slid down my buttocks, onto my thighs, calves, and finally away from my ankles. Along the way, I could feel that hot thing stimulating my central nervous system. I was once again overwhelmed by the stimulation, my rare semblance of reason instantly shattered.
Teacher Apple changed the essential oils by the bedside and returned to my leg, beginning her heavenly TANTRA touch therapy. Slowly, little by little, she pushed upwards: ankle, calf, back of the knee, thigh, finally reaching the groin. Then his hands slid back down, those large, hot hands, like molten lava, slowly leaving my base and sliding back. A deep sense of loss rose in my heart. Fortunately, his hands soon slid up again, lingering around my base before leaving, scraping for a full five minutes.
During those five minutes, I experienced an unprecedented, supreme pleasure. I couldn't even speak; I could only express my feelings with desperate gasps. Even though I tried my best to suppress it, a few moans still escaped my throat unconsciously.
Hearing my sounds, Mr. Apple seemed to receive a command, becoming even more aroused, his hands moving from the outside to the inside of my thighs, but the movements were much gentler. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. This was the most sensitive area; if he continued to be so gentle, I didn't know if I could handle it.
Soon I was once again immersed in the soft, heavenly touch of TANTRA, letting him slowly employ all his techniques—light, gentle, slow, and delicate, occasionally touching my private parts. Each touch felt like an electric shock, my body involuntarily trembling. Although it was shameful, the feeling was simply amazing. I could only cover my face with my hands, surrendering all my senses to Teacher Apple, letting him gradually take me to the clouds.
I could even feel the dreamlike sensation of his YONI technique touching my private parts more frequently, but I didn't want to expose it because I loved that electric feeling so much. Under his guidance, I even spread my legs wide, exposing my private parts completely to his burning gaze. I also knew I was wet…
many drops of fluid slid down, intentionally or unintentionally catching them with his pinky finger. Suddenly, I felt a little resentful towards Teacher Apple. Why couldn't he hurry up?
The teacher then focused his next movements on my inner thighs, repeatedly tracing my labia with his fingers. My eyes glazed over, and I began to moan, increasingly anticipating his turning me over, pressing me firmly onto the bed, and deeply penetrating me with his fingers. Was this some kind of G-spot orgasm technique?
As if to cater to my expectations, the teacher, with hot, panting breaths, gently whispered in my ear, "Can you turn over?"
I immediately nodded, following his lead, turning to lie flat on my back, legs wide open. Although my pubic hair was wet, a few strands still stubbornly stood upright, eliciting a soft chuckle from the teacher. I immediately tried to hit him, but he easily dodged.
Next came the breast spa.
The teacher first poured essential oil on my chest, then slowly spread it with his hands, gently sprinkling it over my chest and abdomen. Each movement made me tremble slightly. This couldn't be described as merely comfortable; it was pure, unadulterated stimulation, a stimulation that made me want to touch it.
My breasts immediately hardened and became engorged with blood. The two nipples, like cherries, unwittingly bulged. I knew he must have sensed it, because his movements were focused directly on the area around my breasts. His hands began to rotate around them, sometimes lightly, sometimes heavily. Waves of intense stimulation made my whole body tremble slightly. I bit my lip hard, afraid of letting out an embarrassing moan.
But what I didn't realize was that it was completely futile. In fact, I was breathing heavily, my cheeks burning like furnaces. This passionate feeling was more intense than ever before; it was truly mortifying.
According to Teacher Apple, the next step was an abdominal spa, similar to the chest massage—a gentle, itchy caress. But what followed was even more intoxicating, because I knew perfectly well that the most dangerous moment—the beautiful moment of climax drift and energy collapse—was approaching.
From the beginning, I hadn't consciously tried to close my thighs, but the excessive pleasure I had just experienced made my body act on its own, so my thighs were now closed.
The teacher showed no impatience, gently parting my thighs to reveal my entire private area. I could even feel my lower lips being completely separated, echoing my heavy breathing, my delicate opening opening and closing rhythmically.
I tightly closed my eyes, biting my lip, weakly trying to calm myself down.
At that moment, Teacher Apple's hand had already poured oil onto my lower abdomen, her right hand pushing the oil down, reaching the inside of my thighs and beginning to spread it up and down like flowing clouds. These two intensely alluring sensations made me suddenly cry out. I could no longer hide my restraint; my whole body tensed, arching my back, my entire body suspended in the air, and I groaned wantonly!
His hand finally touched my private parts. Slowly, he gently slid the tip of his finger across my lips. My clitoris had already shamelessly revealed itself, standing erect in the teacher's fingers. That was the most sensitive spot. I barely had time to catch my breath before his baby-soft fingers brought me to the clouds...
I climaxed, wave after wave, my juices spraying everywhere.
It's been so long, so incredibly long. After being stimulated for so long, I felt like I was on fire. This release was so timely; otherwise, I don't know if I would have gone completely insane.
Even so, he didn't stop. One hand kept rubbing my clitoris repeatedly, sometimes pulling back the foreskin, sometimes scratching with his nails, while the other hand teased the center of my labia. Luckily, I had applied lubricant, otherwise I would have squirted again…
My orgasm hadn't even subsided when I was taken to another level, a feeling hard to describe, an extremely unfamiliar yet incredibly stimulating pleasure!
I jolted awake, grabbed Mr. Apple's slowly accelerating fingers, and gently shook my head at him.
I knew this was the most extreme I'd ever been. I didn't know if it counted as betrayal, but I was afraid of betrayal. I love my husband, and I didn't want to carry the burden of guilt for the rest of my life.
Let's consider this a chance encounter, a lotus blossom meeting that was both inevitable and accidental. I smiled weakly at Teacher Apple, whose eyes showed concern, and turned to rinse off the remaining aromatherapy oil.
It was truly a wonderful life experience, and it's precisely because it was so wonderful that we have regrets.
My first experience with a marital spa began and ended here.
I won't come back again, but from this moment on, a deeply ingrained way of doing things, and a man named Teacher Apple, will never be erased from my memory.
I ran away as if I were doing something wrong
, afraid that I wouldn't be able to resist staying.
The wind was blowing a little bleakly; whose heart was stirring?

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VO.TANTRA Heterosexual SPA that took me to heaven

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