Body message

I saw a post on a forum where someone mentioned a full-body oil massage, saying they felt so good they almost had an orgasm.

I found that hard to believe because I've had full-body oil massages before. It's a regular 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 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 bed.

He was about 35 years old, around 183cm tall, with a good build, fair skin, and quite handsome—my type. He had a professional smile on his face. I suddenly felt a little embarrassed because I had, after all, motives for "special services." But this discomfort only lasted a second because I told myself, I'm the customer; what customer is afraid of a service provider?

At this point, the masseuse smiled and said, "Let me help you change." I stood up, and he unbuttoned my shirt and quickly took it off (including my bra). I felt embarrassed to have him help me take off my pants, so I took off my trousers myself, leaving my underwear on.

By then, he had already arranged the pillows and laid out a bath towel, and had me put on a disposable massage suit and lie face down on the bed.

After I lay down, he said, "Let me help you take off your underwear," and then pulled my underwear down from behind and took it off. This was obviously to avoid the embarrassment of the customer taking off this last piece of clothing. Then he 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.

He dimmed the lights and then began the service, appearing very professional at first.

He started by massaging from my shoulders down my back with both hands. He carefully asked if my hands were cold, if the pressure was too heavy, etc… I've had this kind of regular massage many times, so I was quite used to it. Anyway, it started with my back and waist, then my buttocks, legs, and feet, then I could massage my arms, and then he would have me turn over; it seemed like this was the usual order everywhere.

However, because I was now thinking about "touching," and my thoughts were becoming more sensual, every time he touched my naked skin with his hands, it amplified that feeling.

I discovered that when one's mind is set in that direction, it really does feel different. Even before he touched any sensitive areas, it felt like he was already doing it.

I started chatting with him. It was just casual conversation. He spoke very pleasantly and cautiously.

I asked him if he had many female customers, and he said not many. I asked

if he only catered to female customers, and he said yes, they only served female customers.

After chatting for a while, we ran out of things to say and just remained silent.

His massage was indeed very comfortable; I felt my genitals were slightly wet, perhaps 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 that moment, I felt my face turn slightly red, but thankfully the lighting wasn't strong, so he probably couldn't see it. After turning over, I immediately closed my eyes. He covered my genitals with a towel and moved to the front of my head.

Sure enough, at that 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 their husbands." After saying that, we both laughed. That laugh washed away all the embarrassment.

I asked, "What about most people?" 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 when his hands slid over my nipples, I actually trembled slightly, and my lips made a "sss" sound.

The feeling of his skillful hands massaging my nipples was amazing! I believe many women would experience some kind of sexual pleasure at this moment, and might feel embarrassed, so he said with great experience, "Comfortable, isn't it? Many people come here, and the effect is quite good. People are so tired from work these days, they come here to relax after work!"

Now I believe what I read on blogs.

Because I noticed he was observing me, and he realized I really enjoyed his massage of my breasts, he repeatedly massaged them. After a while, he used a very soothing 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 back up… Then he did it in the opposite direction: starting from my neck, he pushed down over 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 excited, my body seemed to be anticipating him to continue…

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 enticing me.

Then he did something I didn't expect: his hands stopped on my breasts and he quickly rubbed 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 incredibly stimulating; I felt like my brain was throbbing. He continued to gently massage my breasts with both palms in a circular motion.

I once read a short story about a female customer who developed a tacit understanding with a 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 at this point, because the intimacy they seek isn't just physical but also emotional.

Personally, I've always preferred massages because I feel that whether it's going for a beauty treatment or a doctor's visit, it's for the sake of health, so of course, you should try to relax; otherwise, you're just paying to suffer. Men and women alike sometimes ask, if you have physical needs, why not go to a man? I think the principle is the same as masturbation: many men or women masturbate either because their sexual partner is not available in bed, or because the orgasm from masturbation and the orgasm from sex are not interchangeable; each has its own merits.

Although I have my husband with me in my daily life, he can't give me the same delicate caresses on my skin that these professional male masseuses give me, making my whole body relax.

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 came back with a hot towel, spread it on my body, gently wiped away the oil, and had me turn over and lie face down.

I wanted to ask why, but I was too embarrassed to, guessing that this was probably part of the service.

I later realized I was right. To keep customers coming back, they massage for the required amount of time each time, making the customer feel it's worthwhile. He started with my back, but this time it felt different. His touch was like a lover's, gently caressing and stroking my back and waist… It felt like his hands had more than twenty fingers, as if countless fingers covered every nerve ending.

He continued to touch me, while soft moans escaped his lips: "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 begin 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 down slightly, bent over, 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 of pleasure, 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 my body, as if my whole body was relaxing, and my lower body was secreting fluids. I unconsciously lifted 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 concentrated on my breasts and lower body, and I was less sensitive to my lower back. So, although he was making large circular motions (from buttocks, waist, back to breasts, then back down through the abdomen), he mainly focused on pressing my breasts. I must have been incredibly flustered: I was groaning with my buttocks sticking out.

He sat up and gently pressed my lower back. I understood and leaned over. 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 alternately to stroke my buttocks, and every time he passed my anus, I would get excited. With each alternating stroke, the excitement would be like a series of throbbing movements. I guess by then my juices had soaked into the towel.

He then spoke: "Feels good, doesn't it?" I didn't answer, just made a soft sound.

He then kept his fingers around my anus, massaging the perianal area, rotating, and gently wriggling, while his other hand pressed on my buttocks, making me feel so good! He must have known that the customer was enjoying himself, so his professional groans became louder.

By this time, I had developed some feelings for him, so I blushed and said, "You're only using your hands? Can you use your body to massage me?" He answered expertly, "You mean using your body? Hmm, I have no problem with that, but you'll have to give me an extra 1000 yuan. We expend a lot of energy doing this."

I thought, since we've already done it, and it feels so good, I might as well take it. So I agreed.

He pressed down on me from behind, his arms in front of my head. I immediately felt his penis rubbing against my back, tickling me. His professional moans were amplified; I don't know how much of it was real, but he must have felt good too. He pressed down further, massaging me with his body,

asking, "Tell me if it's too hard." I said it was okay, it was fine.

This kind of back massage felt better than his hands because the contact area was larger, and it was his sensitive area, giving a more intimate, skin-to-skin feeling. He massaged my back with his body, then gradually moved downwards, circling my buttocks… I felt a little embarrassed at this point, after all, it was genital contact between a man and a woman, but he probably didn't care and continued, teasing me with his penis between my buttocks!

I was already on the verge of orgasm, and I became bolder, so I simply said, "Could you massage my buttocks again with your hands?" I made this request because his anal massage felt so good earlier, I felt like I was about to orgasm.

He said okay, and massaged my anus like before. I felt "that" coming, so I said, "Keep doing this, don't stop." He said, "Okay, I won't stop," and he even increased the volume of his moans.

I had never orgasmed from an anal massage before, and of course, no one had ever caressed my buttocks for so long before touching my genitals, but this time I really did. My genitals were pressed tightly against the towel, and when he pressed my buttocks with his fingers, I felt my clitoris throbbing—I had orgasmed!

Afraid of making too much noise, I bit my lip to suppress my moans.

After that wave subsided, I was panting as I reached down to touch myself: the towel around my vagina and below was completely soaked!

"Sister, do you want to rest for a bit?" I said yes, and got up. Seeing that I was completely naked, and he was also completely naked, he first lifted a corner of the towel to wipe the water from my genitals. I felt embarrassed, but seeing how focused he was, I relaxed. Then he gently pulled off the wet towel and placed a clean one on top.

I put on my shirt and got out of bed. (He left for a minute, and I sat naked on the bed, watching the light shine on my oil-stained breasts, making them glisten. I laughed to myself, thinking, "I never thought I could play like this. I rarely reach orgasms, but this pretty boy made it so easy for me several times." Just thinking about it sent a tingling sensation through my body like an electric current.)

He brought me a glass of warm water. "Let's chat," I said, taking the initiative. Me

: "Have other people ever done this to me?" Him: "Rarely."

Him: "You seem to be enjoying it." Me: "Of course, it's been a long time since I've felt this good."

Him: "Are you married?" I thought for a moment and said, "Yes, I'm married, and I feel good with my husband."

Him: "Your husband doesn't do this for you?" Me: "My husband does too, but not as well as you."

He smiled smugly.

Him: "Do you want more?" Me: "What?"

Him: "There's something even more comfortable." I laughed and said, "I don't want to leave yet."

He said, "Okay, I haven't finished the whole thing yet, I didn't expect you to go first..." We rested for a while and listened to some music.

After my orgasm, I held him tightly and wouldn't let go. He whispered in my ear, "You're completely soaked, my hands are wet."

I said, "That felt so... good!" After I sat up, he used a towel to wipe away the oil. Looking at his body, I had a mischievous thought and said, "I want to eat too," and went to suck his nipple and penis. He didn't resist and let me lick it, continuing his professional moaning!

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