[My Story with a Married Foot Massage Therapist] (The End) Author: ghyhand

Author: ghyhand
Words: 3886

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(Part 1)

Because I often 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 visit a very famous local health club one weekend to
relax both body and mind.

Since it was my first time there, I approached it with a tentative mindset. After showering, I called a foot massage
technician (hereinafter referred to as L) hoping to learn more about the club through her services.

It was from this foot massage that I developed a rather ambiguous relationship with this technician.

L had a simple and honest appearance; at first glance, she gave off the impression of a typical married woman. Her accent made me feel
very comfortable; she was definitely not a local from Dalian.

After a brief chat, we actually became even closer—it turned out she was from the same hometown. I value
hometown ties, 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 service L could offer (their foot masseuses can provide legitimate
health massages), but it required a private room.

L felt like he'd met a fellow countryman and was very attentive and enthusiastic in his service. To achieve the desired massage effect, I
needed to take off my bathrobe for an oil back massage.

But L then said, "Take off your shorts too, and I'll give you a free full-body massage, including a leg massage." I
was for relaxation with wicked intentions, and now, wicked intentions in disguise,

but a legitimate massage. Although I was wearing disposable underwear, you all know what that means—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 down, but when
he massaged my legs, I rolled over, and I was exposed.

L laughed and jokingly said, "Our own men are still the most presentable, aren't they!" making me blush bright
red .

We were from the same hometown, so I didn't reveal my true colors too much during the massage. L then gave me a way out,
so I figured I'd play along. It was half flirting, half hometown camaraderie.

From our earlier chat, I learned L was 34, had been working hard in Dalian with her husband for over eight years, and their child was already
in school there—they'd finally made it.

I liked the feeling of this married woman; she was warm and natural. So when I asked her if she could give me a
handjob, she initially refused, saying they had "service personnel" there. I immediately
rejected that too, saying I was only interested in her and no one else.

Actually, I was quite emotional when I said that, probably because we'd gotten along well beforehand,
and the atmosphere and emotions were focused on her. Besides, this married woman
suited my taste; it was rare to have such a satisfying prey in a foreign land.

She noticed I wasn't very happy and didn't say anything, just continued massaging my thighs with a half-smile. The atmosphere
suddenly became awkward. I came here happy, but this little thing ruined my mood.

The leg massage was over quickly, and she said it was time, but since I was from the same hometown, she massaged me a little longer.

I was still unwilling to give up; since I had already been honest, I decided to try again.

"Add more time, one more time."

She was taken aback at first, then said to me gently, "Little brother, don't make things difficult for me."

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 from her tone.

Seeing that there seemed to be a chance, I decided not to dwell 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 paused 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 not to tell anyone, otherwise she wouldn't be able to continue working there; they
had rules. I naturally promised her.

L continued to smile after hearing this and told me to close my eyes.

"Sis, the rest of the '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 . 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 , 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
, "Here it comes," 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 sincerely. She didn't pull away;
our tongues touched gently and sweetly.

When I reluctantly withdrew my tongue, I checked the time—the whole process hadn't even lasted 10 minutes. L told me
to lie down , saying there was still time and she'd continue to massage my legs.

I was incredibly grateful. It seemed L had broken through that barrier; now it was just a matter of seeing if things could go even "deeper."

(II)

Since that thin layer of paper was broken, the distance between me and Sister L has naturally shortened a lot.
Whenever I am on a business trip in Dalian, I will have a "soul communication " with Sister L almost every weekend.

To be honest, Sister L's tender hands really make me feel ashamed. Basically,
I will ejaculate in no more than 3 minutes each time.

Once, I even asked Sister L to let me feel it for a while longer, but the psychological effect made me unable to
control myself. Every time, Sister L would cooperate with her simulated moans and let me get straight to the point.

Later, I simply stopped caring. Letting things happen naturally is the most wonderful. Don't force it.

Because I have already tasted Sister L's tongue, every time she serves me, I will take the initiative to sit
up and taste her fragrant tongue. Her tongue is not long, but it actively sticks out.
While , I will have her help me ejaculate at the same time. The feeling is also very wonderful. However, when we are at the same time, it is not easy to control
the direction of my penis. Sometimes the scene is a bit embarrassing.

Every time I tried to touch Sister L's private parts, she either skillfully blocked me or
I ejaculated. So for about six months, besides building trust,
there wasn't much real progress between us.

I remember it was after the National Day holiday. I hadn't seen Sister L in a long time and missed her,
so on the first weekend after the holiday, I went to her shop for the first time.

Sister L was happy to see me. When she entered the private room, she gave me a passionate kiss to
welcome me.

After exchanging a few pleasantries about the holiday, Sister L got straight to the point.

Because I was quite excited, I knelt on the soft bed and kissed Sister L directly. She knelt facing me
and gently stroked my penis with one hand. I touched her breasts through her clothes with one hand, and with the other hand
, I moved down her waist to her buttocks, and then gradually moved to her private parts. There wasn't much hair,
but she was already wet.

This time, L didn't stop me, but because of my position, my hand couldn't go too deep; it just
wandered aimlessly around her pubic area.

At this moment, L's familiar moans became more rapid, as if this time it wasn't feigned.

I was incredibly excited, and I could clearly feel my hand trembling. After only a few touches, I ejaculated.
L tried to cover herself with her hand, but it didn't work. Because I was facing her directly, a lot of it got on her stomach, and a few drops
landed on her thighs.

Seeing my satisfied expression, L smiled and said, "You really broke the rules this time!"

I chuckled foolishly, "Sis, you're so tempting, I just couldn't control myself!"

After cleaning up, I deliberately smelled my fingertips, which were stained with her fluids. There was no smell at all.
It seems L is a reliable person; I can communicate with her without worry from now on.

(Final Chapter)

My relationship with L remained lukewarm. Due to the project, I spent years in
Dalian , which deepened our understanding of each other, and we even exchanged WeChat
contacts.

Knowing that her husband worked as a driver (long-distance bus driver in Northeast China) and was often away from
home for several days at a time, I constantly plotted how to invite L out to further our relationship and achieve my goal of "
deeper communication."

Finally, after careful communication, almost six months after we met, she invited me to her home to cook her hometown
meal (cornmeal dumplings), supposedly her specialty.

Whether I liked it or not, I was determined to win her over.

Monday was her day off, and I arrived at her house in the evening. After entering, I started to
harass her with various small gestures, partly to test her reaction and partly to better flirt.

After dinner, I lay on the bed, and she sat on the edge, chatting with me.

Her hands continued to caress my body, very gently, like a massage. I couldn't
resist any longer, so I pounced on her and started kissing her passionately.

She initially struggled, but gradually lowered her guard. After removing all her coverings,
I noticed her pubic hair was very sparse, and I couldn't resist licking it. All her defenses were unnecessary.
She enjoyed my tongue, but when I asked her to give me oral sex, she refused.

I didn't care anymore; I just penetrated her and did it first.

Mature women are indeed different. I felt the urge to ejaculate within three minutes. Her vagina wasn't very tight,
but the feeling of being enveloped was wonderful, making it impossible for me to control myself. Combined with psychological factors, after a few powerful thrusts, I
ejaculated deep inside her.

The most unforgettable and ecstatic moment was when, as I ejaculated, she actually put her feet on the bed and forcefully
pushed her pelvis upwards, allowing me to penetrate even deeper and ejaculate more fully, as if afraid the semen would escape.

I lay on top of her, and finally, when my penis completely went limp, I let it slide out on its own.
So far , no woman has ever responded to my movements during penetration; she's the only
one. That's the most unforgettable ejaculation I've ever experienced. That

night we only did it twice, and both times I ejaculated very quickly, unable to control the time, less than five
minutes each time.

From then on, she accepted me as her younger brother, although our sex was always short because I
was completely powerless against her. As soon as she moved her hips, I had to ejaculate.

This relationship lasted for over two years, then she went back to her hometown because her child transferred schools, and we
lost contact after that. I miss her dearly.

[The End]

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