I had a sexual urge and went to a male spa aromatherapist.

Once, I saw a post on a forum where a user mentioned a full-body oil massage, saying she felt so good she almost had an orgasm. I found it hard to believe because I've had a full-body oil massage before. It's a common beauty treatment; although you need to be completely naked, the masseuse doesn't touch erogenous zones like the nipples or genitals. It's comfortable, but generally doesn't provide any sexual pleasure. So, I contacted the massage therapist listed on the blog and made an appointment.

Following the therapist's directions, I found the place: an ordinary apartment. The therapist warmly invited me to the massage room (one of the rooms in the apartment). The room had a TV and a bed, a decent size. The therapist asked, "Would you like a full-body massage with oil?" I said yes, and he closed the door and had me sit on the edge of the bed. He was about 25 or 26 years old, around 183 cm tall, with a good build, fair skin, and quite handsome—my type. He had a professional smile on his face. Suddenly ,

I felt a little embarrassed because I had come with the intention of seeking "special services." However, this discomfort lasted only a second, as I told myself, "I'm a customer; what customer is afraid of a service provider?" The masseur then smiled and said, "Let me help you change." I stood up, and he unbuttoned my shirt and quickly removed it (including my bra). Feeling awkward about having him help me take off my pants, I took them off myself, leaving my underwear on. He had already arranged the pillows and laid out a towel, and had me put on a disposable massage suit and lie face down on the bed. After I was settled, he said, "Let me help you take off your underwear," and then pulled it down from behind. This was clearly to avoid the embarrassment of the customer removing this last piece of clothing. Then she asked me how the air conditioning was, adjusted it, and asked if I wanted to watch TV or listen to music. I chose soft music, and she dimmed the lights before beginning the service. Initially, she seemed very professional.

She started by massaging from my shoulders down my back with both hands. She then carefully asked if my hands were cold and if the pressure was too strong. I've had this kind of regular massage many times, so I'm quite used to it. It usually starts with the back and waist, then the buttocks, legs, and feet, then the arms, and then the client turns over—it seems to follow this order everywhere. But again, because I was now thinking about "touching," I started to think in a more sensual way, so every movement of his hands caressing my bare skin gave me a different feeling. I found that when your mind is set on that direction, it really does feel different. Even before he touched any sensitive areas, it seemed like he was starting to turn on. While he was doing this, I started chatting with him. Just casual conversation. He spoke very nicely and very carefully. I asked him if he had many female clients, and he said not many. I asked if he only offered services to women, and he said yes, they only served women. After chatting for a while, we ran out of things to say and just remained silent. His massage was indeed very comfortable; I felt myself getting slightly wet, probably because I was anticipating it. When he told me to turn over, my heart raced because I knew he was going to massage my breasts. At this point, I felt my face turn slightly red, but thankfully the lighting wasn't too bright, so he probably couldn't see it. I turned over and immediately closed my eyes. He covered my genitals with a towel and walked in front of my head...

Sure enough, at this moment he asked me, "Is there anything you don't feel comfortable massaging?" Out of curiosity, I asked, "What about other customers?" He said, "Oh, some customers don't want their nipples massaged; those are reserved for the gentlemen." After saying that, we both laughed heartily. That laughter washed away all the embarrassment. I asked, "What about most of the time?" He said, "It doesn't matter, I massage everywhere, it's quite comfortable." I said, "I don't mind either." Perhaps it was the passion of facing a stranger of the opposite sex, but the moment his hands slid over my nipples, I actually trembled slightly and made a "sizzling" sound. The feeling of his skillful hands massaging my nipples was amazing! I believe many women experience some kind of sexual pleasure at this time, and might feel embarrassed, so he confidently said, "Feels good, right? Lots of people come here, it's very effective. People are so tired from work these days, come relax after work..." I now believe what the blog says because I noticed he observes me. He noticed I really enjoyed his massage of my breasts, so he repeatedly massaged them. After a while, he used a very comfortable motion: starting from my armpits, he ran his hands over my breasts and nipples, down my ribs, all the way to the side of my buttocks, then flipped back... Then he did it in the opposite direction: starting from my neck, he pushed down, past my breasts and abdomen, until he touched my pubic hair, then pulled back from the side. Every time he pushed towards my lower body, I felt very excited, my body seemed to be anticipating him to continue downwards... I didn't say anything this time because I was a little embarrassed to answer. I felt that this time he pushed a little further towards my genitals, as if he was seducing me. Then he did something I never expected: he stopped his hands on my breasts and started rapidly rubbing my nipples with his fingers! It was a very stimulating action. He said, "Feels good, doesn't it?" My expression must have been very strange at that moment. I bit my lip and said, "Mmm." As he continued to caress my nipples, I closed my eyes and simply moaned, because I couldn't control myself. Massaging my nipples was really stimulating; I felt like my brain was working. He continued to slowly rotate and massage my breasts with the palms of his hands.

I once read a short story about a female customer who developed some unspoken feelings for the male masseur during a massage. That's just the novelist's romantic imagination. In reality, our relationship was purely financial; I paid, and he provided the service. I think many women would lose interest if they thought about that, because the intimacy they seek isn't just physical but also emotional. Personally, I've always enjoyed massages because I feel that whether you go for a beauty treatment or to see a doctor, it's for your health, so you should try to relax; otherwise, you're just paying money to suffer. Men and women sometimes ask, if there's a physical need, why not seek out a man? I think the reasoning is the same as with masturbation: many men and women masturbate either because their sexual partner isn't available for the time being, or because the orgasm from masturbation and the orgasm from sex are not interchangeable; each has its own merits. Although I have a husband in my daily life, he can't give me the same delicate caresses and relaxation that professional male masseuses provide with every massage. Psychologically, my husband is the active party, the conqueror; the male masseur is someone I paid for, someone who serves me. So, when a male masseur massages me, there are aspects that my husband can't match.

At this point, he didn't continue but went out. Half a minute later, he returned with a hot towel, gently wiped away the oil from my body, and had me turn over and lie face down. I wanted to ask why, but I was too embarrassed to, guessing it was probably part of the service. I later realized I was right. To ensure repeat customers, they massage for the full amount of time each time, making the customer feel it's worthwhile. He started with my back, but this time it felt different. He gently stroked and caressed my back and waist like a lover... His hands seemed to have more than twenty fingers, as if many fingers covered every nerve ending... He kept touching me, while making soft moans: "Ah... Oh..." I quickly became aroused, feeling even wetter down there, and my genitals unconsciously rubbed against the towel beneath me.

Then I heard him take off his shoes, straddle me, and kneel behind me, massaging my buttocks and waist. These are both erogenous zones for women, and of course he wouldn't miss them. His massage felt so good that I instinctively arched my back. But he didn't immediately stimulate my core. He knelt forward slightly, leaned down, and started with his hands, moving them from my buttocks, down my waist and back, then sliding to my sides, reaching forward to touch my breasts! I couldn't help myself; when he touched my nipples, I made "oh oh" sounds and inhaled deeply. He responded with a few moans, continuing to rub my nipples. I felt the nerves in my nipples were directly connected to my brain, the stimulation sending waves of sensation through me, as if my whole body was relaxing, and my lower body was secreting fluids. I unconsciously raised my upper body so he could grasp my breasts, while my body involuntarily and helplessly twisted, continuing to moan "mmm." He probably thought my moans were too loud, so he got up, turned up the music, and returned to the original position. Because his caresses of my breasts felt so good, my sensations were focused on my breasts and lower body, and I became less sensitive to my lower back. So, although he was making large circular motions (from my buttocks, waist, back to my breasts, then back across my abdomen), he mainly focused on my breasts. I must have been quite out of control at that moment: I was groaning with my buttocks raised. He then sat up and gently pressed my lower back. I understood and leaned down. He put some oil on his hands and sprinkled it between my buttocks. Oh my god, I knew he was probably going to massage my anus, but then I thought, "That can't be, right?" Before I could think any further, his fingers were already there. He was very skilled: he used both hands to alternately stroke my buttocks, and every time he passed my anus, I would get excited. With each alternating stroke, the excitement would be like a throbbing.

He then spoke: "Feels good, doesn't it?" I didn't speak, just made a soft sound. He then placed his fingers on my anus, massaging the perianal area, rotating, and gently wriggling, while his other hand pressed on my buttocks, making me feel so good! She must have known the customer was really enjoying himself, so his professional moans grew louder. At that moment, I started to feel something for him, and blushing, I said, "You're only using your hands? Can you use your body to push me?" He replied knowingly, "Push me with your body? Hmm, I'm fine with that, but you'll have to give me extra money. This kind of work is physically demanding." I thought, since we've already done it, and it feels so good, I might as well take it. So I agreed. He pressed himself against me from behind, his arms spread in front of my head…

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I had a sexual urge and went to a male spa aromatherapist.

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