My story with the married foot masseuse (1)

Because I frequently travel to Dalian for business, I inevitably have to experience the local customs and culture of this romantic city.
Introduced by a client, I decided to spend a weekend relaxing at a well-known local health club.
Since it was my first time there, I approached it with a tentative mindset. After showering, I called a foot massage therapist (hereinafter referred to as L) hoping to learn more about the club through her services. What started as a foot massage, however, led to a more ambiguous relationship between us. L had a simple, unassuming appearance, the kind of woman you'd expect from a typical married woman. Her accent made me feel a sense of familiarity; she definitely wasn't a local.
After a brief chat, we surprisingly bonded even more—it turned out she was from the same hometown! I value hometown connections, especially when I'm away from home; meeting someone from my hometown feels like finding my tribe. So, without hesitation, I ordered the most expensive massage L could offer (their foot massage therapists do provide legitimate health massages), but it required a private room.
L also felt like he'd met a fellow townsman, and his service was very attentive and enthusiastic. To achieve the desired massage effect, I needed to remove my bathrobe for an oil back massage. But L suggested I take off my shorts too, saying he'd give me a full-body massage, including a leg massage. I'd originally gone there with wicked intentions, and now, wicked intentions disguised, but a proper massage.
Although I was wearing disposable underwear, you all know what that's like—what's the difference between paper underwear and not wearing anything at all?
L's technique was very skillful, and he massaged me vigorously. At first, I could manage lying face down, but when he massaged my legs, I rolled over, and I was exposed.
L laughed, jokingly saying, "Our own men are still the most presentable, aren't they!" making me blush bright red.
Since we were from the same hometown, I hadn't revealed my true nature too much during the massage, but L had given me a way out, so I figured I'd play along. Half flirting, half hometown camaraderie.
From our earlier casual conversation, I learned that L was 34 years old and had been working hard in Dalian with her husband for over eight years. Their child was already studying there, and they had finally made it through the tough times. I liked the feeling of this married woman—warm and natural. So when I asked her if she could provide me with a "service" (masturbation), she initially refused, saying they had "service personnel" available. I immediately rejected that too, saying I was only interested in her and no one else could pique my interest.
Actually, I was quite emotional when I said that, probably because we had gotten along well beforehand, and the atmosphere and emotions were focused on her, making it hard to look away. Besides, this married woman suited my taste; it was rare to have such a satisfying prey in a foreign land.
Seeing that I wasn't very happy, she didn't say anything, just continued massaging my thighs with a half-smile. The atmosphere suddenly became awkward. I had come here happy, but this little thing ruined my mood.
The leg massage was finished quickly, and she said it was time, but since I was from the same hometown, she massaged a little longer.
I wasn't giving up. Since I'd already been honest, I figured I'd try again.
"Add more time, press it again."
L was taken aback at first, then said gently, "Little brother, don't make things difficult for your sister." Actually, I felt she was a little moved too. Maybe their internal rules were too strict, or maybe her principles required her not to do such a thing, but I could sense her hesitation in her tone.
Seeing that there seemed to be a chance, I decided not to dwell too much on the outcome this time and replied directly, "Okay, I'll come back to you next time." She seemed relieved and said directly, "Okay, okay, I'll definitely make you satisfied next time. See you next time." I'm a free person in this city, and another week passed, so I let the next time come.
This time, there was no need to hesitate. I went straight into the private room and ordered L. When L saw me at the door, she was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and said, "You're quite persistent, aren't you?" "Sis, I've already come back next time, so it's up to you this time!" A detail from L told me that I had a chance this time; as she turned to close the door, she locked it behind her.
I felt a little excited, anticipating L's service. I voluntarily took off my bathrobe, but kept my paper underwear on.
L first gave me a regular massage, but her technique was noticeably lighter than last time, sometimes even just a caress. I got an erection.
L whispered to me, "Don't tell anyone, or I won't be able to continue working here. They have rules about this." I naturally promised her.
L continued to smile after hearing this and told me to close my eyes.
"Sis, the rest of my 'little brother' is up to you." A double entendre.
L's hands were incredibly soft, and with the lubrication of the essential oil, they launched a relentless assault on my penis. Sometimes I even doubted if they were fingertips; it felt like a tiny mouth 'enslaving' me, like floating on clouds—it was simply too beautiful. I started to question her role as a masseuse, but I couldn't say it aloud; enjoying myself was the most important thing.
My hands started to wander too. We were in a position facing each other; I lay there, legs spread wide, resting my legs on top of hers, so I could touch them perfectly.
L even let out soft moans, mimicking the feeling of reaching the sea of clouds with me. How could I withstand such stimulation? The combined impact of my body and hearing made me say, "It's coming," while my hands gripped her calves tightly. My pent-up essence gushed out.
Perhaps it was too much, because L chuckled again, "Brother, you're a young man after all!" I looked around; the scene was indeed quite spectacular.
"Sis, you're amazing."
After L finished cleaning me up, I sat up and kissed her from the bottom of my heart. She didn't pull away, and our tongues touched gently and sweetly.
When I reluctantly withdrew my tongue, I checked the time; the whole process had only taken less than 10 minutes. L told me to lie down, saying there was still time, and she would continue to massage my legs.
I was incredibly grateful. It seemed that L had broken through that barrier; now it was just a matter of seeing if we could have a more "deeper" "communication" in the future.

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My story with the married foot masseuse (1)

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