[A True Story from a Bathhouse] [Author Unknown]

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This post was last edited by Dripping Rose on 2018-02-23 22:55.

It was early 2003. I was working as a department manager at a company, but due to some business issues and strained relations, I resigned and started my own business in the same industry. That period was a dark time in my life. My family also faced a crisis; my husband of five years divorced me.

I apologize; this is my first time writing online. I'm not good at it, I just wanted a place to vent. I was hesitant—I didn't have many employees at the time, and I was working day and night. Fortunately, with the support of some existing clients, business improved significantly by October, and my life gradually stabilized. Although it was tiring, I felt fulfilled.

During that time, because I was busy with business, I didn't have much contact with my friends. Around this time, I became close to a small business owner I knew. She was six years older than me, and I always called her Sister Wang. We only had business dealings at work and our relationship was just so-so. Later, we became very close because of my business, and she also gave me a lot of help in business.

That's when it happened. One evening, after finishing up some work, I felt relaxed (business was really good then, and I was happy every day). I realized I'd just be watching TV and surfing the internet alone at home, and I was getting bored, so I called her to ask if she had any business dinners and wanted to invite her to dinner. She's very outgoing and happily replied, "My husband is away on a business trip too, and I was just about to call you!" We booked a restaurant together and met up.

I rarely drink, but that day, because I was in a good mood, I opened a bottle of red wine with her. We chatted while drinking, talking about business, the news, and family. We ate from around 6 pm until almost 10 pm, and drank nearly two bottles of red wine. She still wanted more and ordered another bottle. I said I couldn't drink anymore, but she said this was nothing. We ended up drinking three bottles of red wine in total (she drank more than me), and I don't remember when we left the restaurant. She said she wouldn't drive, so we took a taxi home.

Since we lived on the same route, and seeing she'd had quite a bit to drink, I wanted to take her home first. We were still chatting and laughing in the car when she suggested we take a shower to sober up. Thinking I'd need to shower at home anyway, I readily agreed. I said, "Let me treat you?" She replied, "Don't always treat me. You've already treated me to dinner, I can't let you treat me again." Then she had a taxi take us to a fairly large bathhouse in our area. Inside, it was quite crowded. We got our tickets, took showers, and then went to the sauna. She'd really drunk that night, speaking very loudly, and even teased me, "Hey sis, you've got a great figure!" People in the sauna next to us were all looking at me, making me feel embarrassed. I chatted and laughed with her, and we were both very happy.

After the sauna, Wang Jie and I went to the lobby to rest in our bathrobes. My head started to hurt even more, probably from the long sauna session. We lay on the sofa, drinking water and chatting, when a waiter came over and asked if we needed a foot massage. Wang Jie said, "Give us a massage, please." A little while later, two young women came and started massaging our feet. I was feeling increasingly sleepy.

I was feeling drowsy, and the young woman was still massaging my feet. Then another waitress came over and asked, "Would you two like to go to a private room for a beauty treatment and massage?" I vaguely heard Sister Wang ask me, "Sure?" Actually, I just wanted to go home as soon as possible, and I don't know if it was because I was drunk, but I replied, "Okay," or maybe I didn't want to spoil her fun.

The waitress led us to the private room area and asked if we needed two rooms. I said no, we could stay together. Sister Wang said, "Little sister, two, please." I didn't say anything, just asked how long the beauty treatment would take. The waitress said a little over an hour. I thought that wasn't too long, so I agreed. So we each had our own room.

I had just sat down on the sofa in the private room when a young woman, around 20 years old, came in and introduced herself as a beautician. She told me to lie down on the bed, and I did without saying anything. Then she took a piece of paper and wiped my face, saying, "You have oily skin, right?" I said yes. Then she introduced me to some cosmetics, and I said a simple skincare routine would be fine. She then sat on the edge of my bed and started applying a face mask.

I don't know how long the massage lasted, but my head was throbbing badly. I slept for a while, and when I woke up, the young woman said my face was done and I'd like a massage. I asked if the woman who came with me was finished, and she said she'd go check. She came back a little while later and said she'd just finished too and was about to get a massage. I said I'd wait for her. Then the young woman asked me, "Should I continue massaging you, or should I find a 'young master'?" I was stunned and asked, "What did you say?" The young woman said, "Ma'am, here, you can have a massage done by a man, or I can do it for you. It's up to you." I said, "Why is that?" I sat up, wanting to leave immediately. The young woman added, "Ma'am, we've already arranged for a 'young master.' He just asked me to arrange one for you too, so I asked him to check with you." I'd never seen anything like it. I'd always been raised with strict rules and only started dating after graduating from university. I'm very traditional about these things. Although I've heard and seen a lot in the business world, I never imagined things would be this open-minded. Without saying much, I left the private room and knocked on Sister Wang's door. A young man, about 23 or 24 years old, opened the door. A little flustered, I quickly said, "I'm looking for my friend." Sister Wang said from inside, "Let her in." After I went in, the young man left the room. I saw Sister Wang lying on the bed, her bathrobe loose. She saw me and asked, "Why aren't you getting a massage?" I said, "I have a bit of a headache, I want to go home." She smiled and said, "Are you embarrassed?" She sat up straight. I said, "No, I'm just not feeling well. Why don't I wait for you in the lobby?" She smiled again and said, "Little sister, what era are we living in? Why are you acting like a young woman? It's just a massage from a young man, why are you so scared?" I felt genuinely embarrassed; my face was burning.

Sister Wang was a very outgoing woman. Seeing my reaction, she laughed loudly and said, "I've been here a few times with clients and friends before, and I know there are young men giving massages here, but it's nothing. I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?" "As long as you feel comfortable, that's fine." She asked me again, "What are you afraid of? Are you afraid of being taken advantage of?" I said, "No, I'm just not used to this." She said, "Really, it's nothing. The masseuses here are very professional. Just try it. Anyway, I'm here, so what are you afraid of?" I said, "Then go ahead and get a massage. I'll wait for you in the lobby." She then came over and pulled me, saying, "No, let's get a massage together for a while and then go back." She opened the door and called a waiter in from outside, saying, "Find a young master to massage my sister." The waiter asked, "Does she want the same service as you?" Sister Wang said, "Okay, but don't bully my sister." I left her room with a flushed face, feeling conflicted. The lady outside led me back to the private room next door.

After returning to my room, I sat on the sofa, my heart pounding. The alcohol was probably taking effect. A moment later, there was a knock on the door. My voice trembled slightly as I said, "Come in." The door opened, and a handsome young man walked in. He was very tall, about 1.8 meters. He spoke first, saying, "Hello, you want a massage, right?" I managed a soft "hmm" through my throat. He asked if I could lie down on the bed. As if being manipulated, I lay down. I lay there, almost afraid to breathe; it was the first time I'd been alone with a man other than my husband, and in such close contact. He spoke again, asking, "Shall we begin now?" Only then did I realize how magnetic his voice was. I nodded, and he placed his hands on my head, pressing on my temples. I was incredibly nervous, afraid to breathe heavily; I could feel the strength in his hands. He asked me, "Is my hand heavy? If it is, just say so." I whispered, "It's alright." Those few minutes felt incredibly long. Although I'm not a young girl anymore, being with a strange man on a night like this, after drinking too much, made me inexplicably nervous.

It was really awkward. He seemed to want to break the silence, so he tried to make conversation, asking if I didn't come here often. I said it was my first time. He said, "Yes, many ladies come to bathe, but not many come for massages." Hearing this, my face flushed red to my ears. He seemed to realize he'd said something wrong and added, "But getting a massage isn't a big deal, it's just that some people aren't used to it." I forced a smile and said, "I'm just a little unaccustomed to it." At that moment, his hands were still pressing on my head. I felt his technique was very professional; maybe it was because I'd never had a massage before, but that's what made it seem professional. I felt much more relaxed then, and my head didn't hurt as much anymore; I guess the alcohol had sobered me up quite a bit.

I said to him, "Go check the next room..." "Is my friend done yet? Call me when he's done." He said okay and went out. A little while later, he came back and told me he'd spoken to the lady outside. My friend came out and told me.

Memories can be so vivid sometimes! Sigh.

After he came back in, I felt less tense than before; I felt very relaxed. He said, "Shall I continue massaging you?" I nodded. By then, he'd probably finished the head massage. He held my hand and massaged my arm, occasionally giving it a shake, but it felt really good. I started talking to him. I asked him how old he was, and he said, "Guess." I said, "20?" He said, "I'm 23." But I felt that was about the same age, just a little understated. :) I asked him where he was from and what school he graduated from, and he answered me. I also learned that this 23-year-old boy was from Shandong, graduated from a technical school, and had been working for several years, only starting in this line of work at the beginning of the year.

He asked me, "Have you been drinking?" I said yes. He said, "Do you want some water? Do you want me to turn on the TV?" I said no.
Looking back now, I think I might have really drunk too much that day. I even doubted why I had that strong urge; maybe it was because we hadn't had sex in a long time. After he finished massaging my back and legs, he asked me to turn over so he could massage my front. I seemed quite willing and immediately turned over. With my eyes closed, his hands were on my shoulders, massaging my shoulders and arms. I kept thinking about making his hands move downwards. Then I suddenly remembered that I wasn't wearing a bra. I opened my eyes and saw that my collar was very low, so I subconsciously pulled it up. He noticed my movement too. I then looked at him seriously. He was the kind of boy who was very handsome, with a refined and handsome appearance. He smiled when he saw my movement.

I closed my eyes again, and suddenly I heard bursts of laughter coming from next door. I recognized it as Sister Wang's voice. Neither of us spoke; the room was quiet. After a while, I heard those intermittent moans again. My face flushed again. I wondered if it was Sister Wang, but then I thought it was impossible. Would she do that? Wasn't she afraid I'd laugh at her? He must have heard that too. He said, "Your friend comes over often, right?" I said, "Maybe." At that moment, his hand rubbed my abdomen, occasionally moving upwards, sometimes touching the edge of my breasts. Every time he touched it, my heart would race. I noticed his hand seemed a little tense too. I opened my eyes and looked at him again. He seemed very serious. Suddenly, I noticed his pants were very high. I knew what was going on, and my feelings became even more complicated.

He held my hand and flexed my knuckles, but as he did this, I could feel something hard occasionally touching my fingers. I knew what it was, but I didn't pull my hand away. My heart was beating even faster; I could hear my own heartbeat.

The laughter from the other room was still drifting over when I suddenly made a bold move. I don't know what came over me; with my eyes closed, I deliberately touched that hard thing. He probably sensed that I was touching him intentionally, and he leaned forward, holding my hand with one hand and pressing his other hand up my arm. My hand tried to pretend it was accidental as it touched him there. He probably sensed my audacity, and his other hand quickly moved to my breast, kneading it. I let out a soft "Ah!" as my hand grasped his penis.

I kept my eyes closed, afraid to open them. He boldly kneaded my breasts, and I felt a passion I hadn't felt in a long time. He was wearing athletic pants, and the thing in my hand grew harder and bigger. I pulled down his pants and grabbed his penis directly, moving it... I heard his heavy breathing. I didn't dare open my eyes. I noticed his hand moving downwards, slipping inside my shirt and rubbing my nipples, then slowly reaching inside my panties. I was desperately wanting it, and my hand moved quickly. His fingers were also moving around inside me. I only remember it being very wet. His fingers went in a little, and my whole body tensed up, feeling like I was about to have an orgasm. Suddenly, I heard him make a loud "hmm" sound. My hand felt sticky. I sat up and hugged him tightly. His fingers were all over me. I impulsively wanted him to enter me immediately... Then someone knocked on the door. I suddenly calmed down and let go of him. He quickly pulled up his pants and went to open the door. I heard someone outside say that the people next door were done. He then came in and told me my friend was done. I was very nervous, but the impulse from before was gone. I lowered my head and said, "Then I'll go too." I added one more thing: I asked him, "What's your name?" He said, "Call me Yuliang, Yu as in corn, Liang as in excellent." I said, "Do you have a phone?" He gave me his mobile phone.

I left the room, and Sister Wang was already in the lobby. When I saw her, I felt very shy, my face turning bright red, but I pretended nothing was wrong and said, "I've been waiting for you." She smiled and said, "How are you? Sober now?" I said, "Much better, let's go home."

We left the bathhouse, took a taxi, and it was already past 2:00 AM. In the car, I didn't dare look at her once, feeling like I had done something wrong, just making small talk. She arrived first, and I went home.

After returning home, I sat in the living room thinking about what had just happened, feeling a mix of regret and a desire to try again. I picked up the phone several times, wanting to dial that number, but then put it down again. It was very late, so I washed up and went to sleep.

[Complete]

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[A True Story from a Bathhouse] [Author Unknown]

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