Massage addiction

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

I'm from northern China, born in the mid-80s. I'm not particularly tall, and my frame isn't large either. Some people say I'm petite and delicate, and I
just laugh—I admit I'm petite, but with my looks, I would never dare to call myself delicate.
Fortunately, as a qualified artsy woman, I have a certain air about me, plus I'm fair-skinned, which should cover up
some of flaws, right? Besides, I often play badminton and table tennis,
so I have a well-proportioned figure. My most confident parts are my buttocks and legs; in terms of proportion, they're quite perky and long.
Getting back to the point, about six years ago, I fell in love with massage, and I became addicted. Every two weeks, I go to
a familiar masseur for two hours to relieve physical and mental fatigue.
Now I have two regular masseurs, a man and a woman; I usually have the man massage my feet and the woman massage my body.
But every time I make an appointment, I can't help but think of Uncle Xiong. If only he were still here, I really miss
his thick, hot hands and his strong, hard, weathered penis.
Uncle Xiong was a great massage therapist; for a long time, I only went to him for massages.
Our first meeting was in the summer of 2014. One Saturday, I received a call from the massage parlor owner.
She said that Aunt Dong, whom I always booked, had to cancel due to family matters and asked if I could try someone else.
Because I was really tired, I immediately agreed, thinking that since I'd been a regular at this shop for so long, with a
constant , the other massage therapists must be quite skilled.
But when I got to the shop, I was dumbfounded—the person the owner recommended to replace Aunt Dong was a middle-aged man.
He was tall, around forty years old, with a large face, large hands, large feet, and a slightly protruding belly, but not greasy
. He had thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a broad back. He stood there, smiling憨憨地 at me. I had occasionally glimpsed him giving
foot massages to customers, but I never thought I would have any interaction with him.
The boss knew that I usually only booked female massage therapists, so she noticed my hesitation and quickly added
, "This is Master Xiong, his technique is very good. He knows you like strong massages, so having him do it is sure to be a good choice."
"Oh," I replied cautiously, neither agreeing nor refusing.
"Why don't you wait a bit? My wife's almost done with her shift, she can do it for you."
Master Xiong added, afraid I'd feel awkward—yes, he said "wife," and his accent carried a strong
Northeastern accent. I remember it vividly.
"It's okay, I'll trouble you again later, Master Xiong!"
Of course, I wouldn't be ungrateful; some non-essential matters don't need insistence. I'd only ever booked female
massage , simply because I'm a bit reserved and embarrassed to ask for a man. So this time, I was a little
excited, firstly because I'd long wanted to try a male massage therapist's techniques, and secondly because I'm attracted to older men,
especially tall, chubby, and strong ones—they completely seduce me.
Master Xiong gave a crisp but firm "hmm" and led me into room number 2, which I usually used.
Room number 2 was the innermost room, tucked away in a corner; it wasn't too big or too small, but it was private enough.
When , I would always strip naked for her oil massage. Although the city government required a small window to be left in the door,
no one would pass through this room, so I was happy to be comfortable and at ease.
"Then get ready, I'll come in in a bit,"
Master Xiong said considerately, avoiding any awkwardness by telling me to get ready rather than undress. Being a bit reserved,
I wasn't bold enough to strip naked upon meeting him, so I remained in my underwear, lay down on the bed, and
haphazardly covered myself with the sheet.
About five minutes later, Master Xiong politely knocked on the door and then entered the room. He first
tucked the sheet back in, then asked me where I wanted him to focus.
"Hmm, my back and waist, they're sore," I whispered. "Give me a good rub on my butt!" I couldn't
bring myself to say that.
"Okay."
He gently pulled the sheet down to my waist, then I heard him rubbing his hands together, and immediately a pair of large
, hot hands covered my back.
"So comfortable!" That was my only thought at the time.
Master Xiong's technique was quite skilled; he could always find my sore spots immediately, then press his thumb all the way
down, a tingling, numb sensation that was incredibly satisfying.
"Is this pressure okay?"
"Mmm." "Your back is very sore." After saying that, he used his large thumb to gently massage the two erector spinae muscles
along my spine . "Mmm." I could only say "Mmm" in comfort. Master Xiong is a very honest man. He massaged me vigorously with his thumb for ten minutes straight without stopping . I knew it was tiring and put a lot of pressure on my thumb, which could injure it in the long run. "Um, Master Xiong, please don't use your thumb so much. It's too tiring and you'll hurt yourself." "It's okay, that's what I do. As long as you're comfortable." It was indeed comfortable, but after my repeated insistence, he switched to using his elbow instead of his thumb for the massage. The moment his hairy elbow touched my body, I immediately shuddered, feeling like I was being brushed with a small brush , and I couldn't help but groan. "Did I hurt you?" "It's okay, it's bearable," I said, blushing. "Then I'll be gentler. Tell me if it hurts." And so, without getting angry or upset, half an hour passed. I felt lucky to have met a massage therapist like Master Xiong; I wish it were also a stroke of luck in love—I was lost in thought. "Would you like an oil massage?" Master Xiong asked tentatively. The main event was finally here. Anyone who enjoys massage knows that while dry pressure relaxes muscles, an oil massage is pure enjoyment. "Yes!" This time I didn't say "um," not wanting him to think I was being coy, and also afraid he was just asking casually. "Then should you take off your underwear—the owner said you always take them off when you come for an oil massage, and she specifically told me, so don't worry." He quickly added, afraid I'd be embarrassed or misunderstand. And Master Xiong didn't say "underwear" but "breasts," which made me feel he was really considerate. "Hmm." After a brief silence, I asked, mustering my courage but barely a whisper, "Could you please help me take these off?" My face was as red as the morning sun. But the only response was the sound of him closing the door and leaving. I wondered if he had heard my last sentence. I breathed a sigh of relief, tinged with disappointment. I hoped he hadn't heard me. About two minutes later, Master Xiong knocked on the door again and came in. This time he didn't speak, he just folded...

He pulled the sheet down, leaving only my bottom, and then skillfully applied oil to my skin.
I vaguely remember his breathing becoming heavier. I wonder if, in
the dim light, his thick eyebrows and large eyes, he saw my body, still glistening with oil, and whether he even saw my private parts—
how embarrassing! However, shame couldn't stop me from enjoying the pleasure of Master Xiong's hot, large hands caressing me. I
occasionally let out a soft moan in response to his kneading, and he tried even harder to make me feel comfortable.
Suddenly, he gently patted my bottom and asked somewhat uneasily, "Should we do something here too
?"
"Yes, thank you," I said shyly.
"Hmm." He slowly lifted the sheet covering my round bottom. I'm willing to believe that at that moment, his
blood boiling.
His large, gentle hands covered my slightly upturned buttocks, not rushing to knead them, but just holding them there for about
five seconds, before slowly pushing them towards my waist. It felt so good! I love this kind of ambiguous, slightly erotic
massage. Although I knew nothing would actually happen, my wild imagination was already running wild, and I was already wet down there.
Actually, Master Xiong's technique was similar to Aunt Dong's; this must be the result of intensive training from the boss. But
it was precisely this very routine technique that made me feel comfortable in every pore. I occasionally wiggled my
buttocks , letting out a soft moan. Master Xiong understood and moved his hands back to my buttocks, kneading them vigorously. I
could imagine my buttocks being squeezed into different shapes in his large hands, but he very carefully avoided my
sensitive areas, not even touching my inner thighs.
At the end, he carefully wiped the essential oil off my body with a hot towel. Although the towel was also hot
, I felt it was the warmth of Master Xiong's large hands that completely melted away my reserve and pride.
When it was time to pay, the owner naturally asked how I felt, and I smiled and nodded. There weren't many words exchanged,
but I left the same tip as I had for Aunt Dong.
That night, I had a dream. I dreamt of Master Xiong, with his wife standing beside him, and a
little girl about my size. I couldn't see her face clearly, but I clearly heard her call Master Xiong "Daddy."
A week later, I tried calling back to make an appointment for a massage. The owner tactfully asked if I wanted to see
Master Xiong again. I pretended to hesitate for a moment, then agreed.
~Cheng~
I arrived at the appointment on time, full of anticipation and trepidation.
"You're here." The boss still wore that sincere smile, so genuine it was impossible to doubt he was just after the money.
Master Xiong, with the same憨憨 (simple and honest) expression, nodded at me, gestured for me to come in,
and led me towards room number 2.
Walking down the long, narrow corridor, I gazed at Master Xiong's back. He must have been twice my size, looking very
solid and imposing. His back was slightly hunched, which fascinated me. I wondered,
what kind of sorrow could a man's slightly hunched back bear? Yet, he still walked with firm, unwavering steps, as steady
as a mountain, towards the future—though not clearly visible, it shone with more than a glimmer of hope.
I longed to lean on his back and try to hear his strong, powerful heartbeat.
Master Xiong opened the door and stepped aside to let me into the room.
As I entered, I gave him a thank-you look, then lowered my head discreetly,
my eyes quickly darting to his broad chest. Unlike most middle-aged, overweight men, his chest wasn't sagging; it was very firm,
with a few unruly chest hairs peeking out from his V-neck work shirt, tantalizing my senses.
I secretly sniffed; there was no sweat odor, no body odor, no shampoo or shower gel fragrance, but a
reassuring yet alluring scent—I thought, this must be the smell of a man.
"Then get ready," Master Xiong said, as always, before closing the door behind him.
I quickly stripped naked and lay on the bed, but my mood became more and more nervous. I was looking forward to his hot hands
covering my body and moving slowly but powerfully. I was also looking forward to having a closer physical contact with him,
or in other words, his body could touch me further. Based on these fantasies,
a warm feeling .
Master Xiong finally knocked on the door and came in.
I felt him hesitate suddenly, and then I remembered that I was so busy thinking about it that I forgot to
cover it with the sheet.
Master Xiong had a sharp eye and quick hands. He took out the sheet and covered me with it. He smiled and immediately asked me what I was going to focus on today.
"Legs, oh, and waist." I quickly replied in order to cover up my embarrassment. "I went to play ball this afternoon,
my legs are a little sore."
"Okay."
Actually, I didn't play ball at all this afternoon; I just stayed in bed reading, listening to music, and fantasizing about
intimate contact with Master Xiong. The reason I said this is because I'm a habitual liar—a white
lie. I wouldn't fabricate unfounded lies to hurt others. More often, my
lies tend to provide an explanation or reason. The reason is simple: I don't want others to think I'm
unreasonable.
The massage remained lukewarm, and being covered by Master Xiong's warm, large hands made me feel like crying.
It was so incredibly comfortable, especially when he slowly massaged my calves up to my thighs, then used his fingers to support my
buttocks and push down to my lower back before returning in a circular motion. It felt incredibly soothing.
During the massage, I occasionally felt a few drops of sweat trickle down, penetrating me.
This second massage still didn't bring the romantic moments I'd hoped for, but the satisfaction and disappointment were
palpable. I couldn't help but daydream about whether one day it would reach my body.
~Turn~
After the second time, there will be a third, a fifth, a tenth.
Gradually, I became familiar with Master Xiong. Although he wasn't very talkative, I learned that he was
Mongolian , but had grown up in Northeast China. He told me to call him Uncle Xiong. My aunt, his wife, came from
a wealthy family that had declined over generations. They came to America with their last remaining savings, hoping their precious
son would have a bright future.
His son attends a public university, lives on campus, and only comes home occasionally. Every time Uncle Xiong talks about his
son, his eyes are filled with hope. He and his wife both work at the massage parlor for their son's sake. Although it's tiring,
I know they are content.
Uncle Xiong also said that if he had a daughter, she would probably be about my age, so he started calling me "daughter."
He never asked my age, though. Even though I looked young, I knew Uncle Xiong and
Auntie would never have a daughter born in the 80s.
Whenever he called me "daughter," I felt a strange, sinful pleasure, but at the same time, I
didn't want him to see me as just a daughter.
Before, when Aunt Dong was alive, I went every two weeks; after meeting Uncle Xiong, I went weekly
.
Regular massages are really addictive, especially when the therapists are skilled and experienced. The boss, of course, is always happy to help
—money is always welcome! However, two or three massage therapists looked at me differently.
They knew I always stayed for a long time and gave a lot of tips, and there was probably a hint of jealousy mixed in with their sneers.
They seemed to be saying, "Oh, the little slut is trying to seduce Old Xiong again. Looks like she won't give up until she gets him!" And
I would nod and give a friendly smile, as if to say, "Yeah! I've got him!"
It was another lazy Saturday afternoon when I received a call from the massage parlor owner. Her
voice . She basically said that there was a problem with Uncle Xiong's appointment, so my evening appointment
had to be rescheduled to after 9 p.m. However, she assured me that although the shop closed at 9:30, I
could work for the full two hours as usual. Uncle Xiong would be fine, since he was usually the one closing up shop.
Having worn a cunning watch for over twenty years, I naturally had to feign hesitation at this point. But since I didn't have
to work tomorrow, it didn't matter to me what time it was—as long as it was Uncle Xiong.
Hanging up the phone, for the first time, I truly felt that something was going to happen tonight, and I felt a little
excited . Following the methods I found online, I shaved my already sparse body hair clean, then filled
a tub with bathwater, slowly lay down, relaxed, and calmed down. Enveloped in the warm water, I let my imagination run wild, a
familiar and easy fantasy. I had a strong thought at the time: if I were also wrapped in Uncle Xiong's arms, would he
feel the same warm, soft touch?
I arrived at the massage parlor at 8:30 PM, but just sat quietly in the car, watching
the customers who came out one after another, their faces beaming with satisfaction.
Finally, at 9 PM, I walked into the shop, pretending to be calm. The proprietress was still all smiles, apologizing repeatedly.
I tactfully paid first so she could settle her bill and go home.
After paying, I turned around and realized that Uncle Xiong was already standing behind me. He scratched his head, looking apologetic.
"Someone insisted on booking me today, so I squeezed in an hour. Sorry to have bothered you." Seeing that I didn't answer
but just smiled at him, he seemed a little embarrassed. "Girl, wait a minute. The guest just left. I'll go
tidy up the bed." He turned and walked inside. I didn't say anything and followed him inside.
"Uncle Xiong, I'll go say hello to Auntie first, then I'll wait for you in room number 2," I said
softly , emphasizing "wait for you." I don't know if he heard me.
"Okay," he replied.
I went straight to the staff break room and saw Auntie tidying up. Auntie was a hardworking and family-oriented woman.
Although time was cruel, you could tell she had a good foundation; she must have been pampered as a child. I have immense
respect for women like her. Although her family has fallen on hard times, she possesses a refined air cultivated since childhood. Coupled with
her kindness and hard work, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she embodies the traditional virtues of the Chinese nation. Every time
I see her, the saying "To become a Buddha or a dragon, one must first serve the common people like an ox or a horse" comes to mind.
At the same time, I genuinely believe that Uncle Xiong and Auntie are a perfect match, the kind of couple who can share joys and sorrows.
And I have absolutely no intention of interfering in their lives, so I've never asked for Uncle Xiong's personal contact
information or address, and Uncle Xiong has tacitly refrained from asking for my phone number. He only knows that I live
only . If my fantasy were to become reality—I mean, if
anything were to happen between us—it could only happen in this shop.
"You're here."
"Hello, Auntie."
"Your uncle will give you a good massage later, no rush, I'll have the manager take me home first." They
all call the boss "manager.
" "Oh." I initially thought my aunt would stay to wait for Uncle Xiong, but now it seems like heaven is on my side.
"I'll head over now." After saying hello, I eagerly headed towards room number 2.
It was the same familiar room number 2, the familiar dim lighting and the scent of essential oils, now subtly
teasing me. I took off my clothes and lay down on the bed with an almost worshipful feeling. I felt that my body
was the best offering at this moment, a sacrifice to my ethereal fantasies. I deliberately didn't cover myself with the sheet, just
lay there on the bed with my hands flat on either side of my body.
These were the second longest five minutes of my life.
Uncle Xiong finally came in.
He tacitly didn't cover me with the sheet. He had long since stopped asking me what I needed most;
I think he knew that wherever he touched was the focus.
He still warmed his hands by rubbing them together before gently placing them on my back. Although it was only for a moment, I distinctly
felt his large, hot hands tremble slightly, and I let out a soft moan in response to his warmth.
Today, he only gave me a dry massage for about fifteen minutes before starting the oil massage. The oil was heated, and it felt
incredibly . He gently spread the oil on my back and slowly covered my entire body—these
actions, which I take for granted, felt exceptionally pleasant today.
I usually think that applying oil is to make customers more comfortable, especially during vigorous massages, to prevent
skin abrasions. But today, I felt that Uncle Xiong was treating me more like a work of art, slowly applying and maintaining my skin.
This time , he even applied a thin layer to the inside of my thighs, which he usually doesn't touch. By the time he finished, I
was completely soaked.
"Old Xiong, I'll take your wife home first. Everyone else has left. I'll lock the front door for you. You can
use the back door later when you're ready." The boss's voice came from outside the door at an inopportune moment. It wasn't loud, but I heard it clearly.
"Okay." Uncle Xiong's reply was always so simple and straightforward, but his large hands didn't stop. Instead, they rubbed
even more vigorously.
Then, his hands slowly moved to my feet, and I knew he was about to start massaging the soles of my feet. Usually,
when he massages my feet, I relax until I fall asleep, but this time, I was wide awake. I didn't want to miss
any comforting touch.
After about ten minutes of massage, which was roughly the time I usually fall asleep, Uncle Xiong finally made his
move . He first slowly spread my legs slightly apart, then held my right foot with one hand and
slowly lifted my calf with the other. Next, he knelt on the bed, bending my calf at a 90-degree angle and placing it against
his stomach, my toes just touching his chest. I could feel his strong,
powerful heartbeat against his firm chest.
I continued to pretend to be asleep, anticipating his next move. His breathing became noticeably heavier, but
his hands didn't stop, continuing to press the acupoints on my calf. I imagined he was now in a kneeling
position, holding my calf in his arms. Suddenly, I felt him gently kiss my sole,
then take my toes into his mouth, gently sucking on them, occasionally brushing his tongue between my fingers. I struggled to suppress
a moan.
Then I felt him shift slightly, pulling my other leg into his arms as well, beginning to
kiss and lick my feet in a crisscross motion. At the same time, I felt something warm and
hard . I couldn't hold back any longer and let out a soft moan.
"Comfortable?" he asked. So he knew I was pretending to be asleep all along.
"Mmm." But I think my voice was so soft that only I could hear it.
"Hmm, I know what you're thinking." He sighed, speaking slowly, as if he had made a great
decision.
After a brief silence, I heard Uncle Xiong get off the ground, but I didn't know what he would do next.
Anxiously, I squeezed my legs together and secretly peeked to the side. To my horror, I saw him standing not far from me, holding
essential oils.
Uncle Xiong's face had lost its憨憨 (simple and honest) expression, replaced by a serious and solemn look,
like robust Vajra Bodhisattva. His pants were already bulging high with masculine pride, quite a sight. *Smack!* He
slapped my buttocks, the sound crisp, accompanied by a slight tremor in my buttocks. He straddled me, but didn't
press down.
"Can you squeeze me a little? I'm not going in," he said, looking down at me, his tone both pleading and
commanding.
I didn't answer, but slowly lifted my buttocks. Seeing my acquiescence, he moved forward, picked up the sheet from
the side rolled it up, and placed it under my lower abdomen. Then I heard him pull down his pants. I desperately wanted
to see what his burning pride looked like, but I was too embarrassed to turn my head away, too
embarrassed to let him see my current expression. I just lifted my buttocks, trying to feel his heat as much as possible.
"Uncle knows you want it, but you're not ready yet. Don't worry, Uncle won't go in, but I'll make you comfortable."
My mind went blank, but I clearly remembered hearing countless people talk about men's lies
about "I won't go in." But I was willing to believe that if he said he wouldn't go in, he definitely wouldn't.
As for me, I preferred to go with the flow and let nature take its course.
Uncle Xiong poured every last drop of the still-warm essential oil onto my buttocks, threw away the bottle, and let the oil run rampant over
my lower body, watching it flow in all directions. I felt the warm liquid flowing into my anus
and the base , and unconsciously twisted my buttocks, my waist tensing up.
Another slap, and his bear paw landed on me, hot and very comfortable, and I couldn't help but
groan.
"Relax," he commanded, and then his large hands began to knead wantonly. His thumb occasionally
brushed across my anus and the base of my thighs, making me tremble with pleasure.
Then, he spread his large hands apart, letting my buttocks clamp onto his burning, proud member. Although I had never
touched , I believed that at this moment, there was a thick, red-hot iron rod being held between my buttocks,
thrusting back and forth. Listening to his increasingly heavy breathing, I felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.
After rubbing like this for more than ten minutes, Uncle Xiong leaned forward, supporting himself on the bed with his fists clenched, and then
inserted his iron rod between my tightly clenched thighs. The iron rod was absorbed by my labia, continuing
its hot slow friction.
As a literary young woman who loved to fantasize, I had once specifically studied what the Japanese called "sex work,"
which was said to be a very profound technique, one I had no chance to learn. But today, I believe Uncle Xiong is letting me experience
"bare stockings."
Thinking of this, I involuntarily squeezed my thighs together, hoping for a more profound experience for both of us. I
seized the opportunity to grab Uncle Xiong's thick forearm, rubbing the hair on his arm, involuntarily moaning softly.
Hearing my moans, Uncle Xiong seemed encouraged, rubbing faster and faster. Suddenly, I felt a chill run down
my spine , followed by a glistening spray of water that splashed onto the iron rod,
but couldn't extinguish the raging fire.
"Feeling better now?" Uncle Xiong sighed in relief, slowly stopping his movements and straightening up.
"Yes, that feels good." I didn't continue to feign indifference. "Uncle, what about you?" Uncle Xiong really didn't come in or
come out, and I felt inexplicably sorry for him.
"Hehe, as long as you're comfortable, I still have your aunt to take care of later." He answered cheerfully. "You should
lie down and rest for a bit, don't get up all at once." After saying that, a large hand supported my waist, and he pulled out the sheet so
I could lie more comfortably.
Actually, I really wanted to get up right away and see what kind of treasure had made me feel so comfortable.
However, he had already pulled up his pants and started cleaning up the battlefield.
After letting me rest for more than ten minutes, Uncle Xiong signaled that I could get up. I got dressed, took
the glass of warm water he handed me, and drank it down in one gulp.
"Wait for me for five minutes, I'll tidy up the bed."
"Okay." I stared at this rather sincere man, my eyes full of seductive charm.
~Hmm~
I don't remember how I said goodbye to Uncle Xiong, nor the specifics of driving home. My mind was filled with images
of Uncle Xiong's robust body, his strong arms, and the unbridled pride I had once clung to. Holding
his arm, a sense of security filled my heart. I felt that even if the sky were to fall, his broad, sturdy back
would shield me. And the thick hair extending from his belly to his waist seemed to possess
a powerful suction, drawing my ample hips into his body, making us inseparable once we were together.
But after Uncle Xiong went home, he had his aunt. What about me? Besides endless emptiness and loneliness, all I felt was...
His scent lingered on my body.
I hadn't showered; as soon as I got home, I stripped naked, jumped onto the bed, and pulled a pillow between my legs.
I tried desperately to recapture the lingering, intoxicating feeling I'd just experienced. In the end, I wasn't sure if his scent was truly lingering around
me, or if it was just my pathetic imagination, and I was mercilessly pulled into the vortex of sleep.
I slept until the afternoon on Sunday, ate something quick, and drove to the vicinity of the massage parlor.
I found a relatively secluded spot in the parking lot and stared at the entrance, hoping to
catch a glimpse of him when he came out for a smoke. I wanted to see clearly his憨憨 (simple-minded) yet not dull-witted expression and
the robust body that had so easily brought me to my climax the night before. More than anything, I wanted to make sure he was still there, or rather, that
I hadn't gotten him into any trouble after last night—at that moment, I felt like a criminal returning to a crime scene, desperately trying
to make sure I hadn't left any trace. But after waiting for over two hours, he still hadn't come out, and I
realized I'd never smelled cigarette smoke on his large hands. I could only return home, feeling anxious and disappointed.
The whole week was utterly dull, but thankfully the weekend arrived. I made a call,
and unsurprisingly, my boss answered. Hearing her usual tone, my heart eased slightly.
But the first thing she asked was if I wanted to schedule it for nine o'clock. Ha! Did she think I was stupid? Did she think her
older sister had gotten a taste of something better? You can't make the scheming bitch give in if you test her so obviously!
I didn't pretend to be hesitant, but told her categorically that two hours at nine o'clock was a bit late, so
it would be better to make an appointment in the evening. Sure enough, Uncle Xiong was really free in the evening, and I successfully got on base. Although this call was not long,
it was quite strange and contained a little more information. But at least I knew that Uncle Xiong was fine, but the boss might have
suspicions .
When I saw Uncle Xiong again, I didn't read anything unusual on his face. He was still
the same as before , naive and unwavering. He took me to Room 2, which was both familiar and unfamiliar. After what happened last time,
I feel that Room 2 has a different meaning to me. It has become a paradise with our common secrets.
"Then get ready, I'll come in in a bit." It was always the same
opening line after he escorted me to my room, but to me, it carried a different meaning.
"Get ready for what? Where are you coming in?" I asked jokingly.
He didn't say anything, just pretended not to hear, and turned to leave. Suddenly, I felt wronged; I
couldn't understand this man anymore.
In my script, his answer should have been simple and clear—"You, you," followed by stripping me naked and
carrying me to bed. But it wasn't like that at all; it seemed our relationship was still at the level of our initial,
carefree meeting. I stood there, stunned.
He returned shortly after, closing the door behind him. Seeing me standing there, still dressed, he looked surprised. The
moment our eyes met, I acted impulsively and rushed over to hug him.
He paused for a moment, then let me hold him. One minute, two minutes—I wished time could stand still so
I could smell his scent a little longer, that comforting scent—but everything eventually calmed down.
He sensed I wasn't so agitated anymore, so he gently patted my back and said softly, "Sweetie, Uncle
knows what you're thinking, but…"
"But you've given me everything you could!"
I looked up, smiling, and gave him the answer—I finally
brought back the reason I'd thrown to the winds the moment I entered this room, smelled this scent, and saw this person. I finally remembered that this was
a real world, a world governed by law, a world where the development and change of things are not subject to individual
will . What I could ask for and what he could give was confined to this room, and besides, I had already
received it all , and he had already given it to me.
Seeing the sincerity in my eyes, he stopped hesitating and gave a simple, honest smile. I didn't mince words either,
but instead stripped naked in front of him and lay down on the bed—he had seen what he wanted to see and
touched what he wanted to touch, and now that things were clear, there was no need for pretense.
Regaining my senses, all I wanted to do at that moment was enjoy the comfort of his warm, large hands—you know,
two hours of massage isn't cheap.
During this time, I fell asleep, again while Uncle Xiong was massaging my feet. But this time, I was truly asleep
; I slept soundly and relaxed. So, two hours passed by without me even realizing it. When Uncle Xiong woke me up
, I found myself covered with a sheet. He must have been worried I'd catch a cold, so he covered me up. Uncle Xiong is still
the same considerate man. He always manages to touch my heart with small gestures.
As I was leaving, on a whim, I asked him, "Uncle Xiong, do you smoke?"
He didn't answer directly, but instead patted my head and smiled, "You were here last Sunday too, weren't you?"
Ha! The burly man before me suddenly became so unfathomable, so unapproachable. He was methodical
, cautious, and neither arrogant nor servile. He saw right through me, this self-righteous, scheming woman.
I still go for my weekly massage every week because Uncle Xiong and I have finally found a balance:
I only go to him for massages on Saturday evenings.
He knows I'm fascinated by his muscular physique, so before each massage, he gives me a big
bear hug, allowing me to shamelessly enjoy the sense of security and masculinity he exudes. At the same time, I know he enjoys watching me
wiggle my hips, letting the hot essential oil flow freely, and then he slaps me with his bear paw, which calms me down,
making me obediently let him apply the oil all over my body. This is our little game, and we never tire of it.
However, even though I was soaked to the bone and he was already fully erect, neither of us would cross the line again—
there were still many other customers in the shop in the evening, and we wouldn't risk putting
each other in an awkward situation by having customers go to the wrong room. This time was a constraint for everyone.
This subtle, coy game of give and take was irresistible, and I hoped it could continue forever.
Time flies, summer turned to autumn, but before the autumn leaves even fell to the ground, winter arrived.
On a lazy yet expectant Saturday in early 2015, I received another call from the boss.
"Your Uncle Xiong asked me to ask you if the appointment could be changed to nine o'clock. He has something to do this afternoon, so he canceled all his other appointments.
But he can come back to do it for you after he's done." The boss assured me confidently.
"Did he tell you to ask me?" I asked noncommittally.
"Yeah, look how much he favors you. He'll give you the job when everyone else refuses," the boss said jokingly.
"Oh, alright, since he said so," I replied expressionlessly, completely ignoring the boss's
teasing.
Hanging up the phone, I couldn't hide my excitement, hugging the pillow I usually tucked under me and spinning around
three times. I checked my watch; it was only 3:30. Hmm, my watch must be the slowest watch in the world.
I patiently waited until 9:15 before leisurely arriving at the store. The boss called once to urge me,
and I made up an excuse. Because I knew that the later I arrived, the fewer people there would be.
After paying, the boss was in a hurry to leave. Uncle Xiong wasn't wearing his uniform today; perhaps he had just finished running
errands, and since there were no other customers in the store, he hadn't changed. He was wearing a loose
black , plain and simple, but it couldn't hide his strong, muscular physique. He wore casual
shorts and flip-flops. Since their shop required all massage therapists to wear long pants, this was the first
time I'd seen Uncle Xiong's thick calves and dense leg hair, and I was momentarily stunned. Although California isn't cold, wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops
in winter usually something only strong, muscular young men do.
"Uncle, aren't you cold?" I asked, knowing the answer already.
"No, it's cold in the Northeast."
"Oh. So what are you doing this afternoon?" I especially liked imitating his Northeastern accent.
"Just tidying up at home, recharging."
I thought he was joking, but his expression was very serious.
After entering the room, he casually closed the door and suddenly picked me up from behind—a princess carry—catching me
off guard. His large face lolled close, and he sniffed my hair intensely, saying, "Smells so good." I
blushed and didn't say anything, only playfully punching his broad chest. He smiled sheepishly and put me
down.
"So, what brings you here at this hour?" I went straight to the point.
He tugged at his collar slightly awkwardly, saying, "My dear…" before changing his words to my name.
"Uncle just wanted you to know that I'm not a blockhead."
"Yes, I know—I know you know what I'm thinking." I looked into his eyes.
"Your aunt went back to visit relatives earlier, she's spending the New Year at her hometown." He seemed to be trying to change the subject.
"Yeah, you said it before, and she's been back for over a month already," I persisted.
"I... I'm going back too," he said slowly.
I stared at his honest face, stunned, speechless for a moment, but ultimately didn't say the silly question, "When are you
coming back?" He deliberately chose this time and place, wanting to tell me something, or
perhaps to end something.
"Have you bought the plane ticket?" I asked, trying to make conversation to hide my dejection.
"Yeah, the day after tomorrow," he said firmly.
"So what are you planning to do when you get back?" I hadn't expected it to be so sudden.
"I've saved up some money over the years, I'll go back and start a small business," he replied. "Your aunt and I aren't good at English,
and there's no point in staying here. While we can still make a living, we'll go back and give him a piece of our minds." He added.
"What about your son?"
"He'll graduate first."
"Oh." I didn't know how to continue the conversation because I was already in tears.
Uncle Xiong was silent for a moment, then pulled me into his arms. "Thank goodness I met you, you give me something to
look forward to every week." He stroked my trembling back and said gently, "Actually, I was going to go back
with , but I couldn't bear to leave."
Speechless, I could only continue to wet his warm chest with my tears. If today is the end, then
I hope my tears can remain in his heart. I think this is what they call love that grows over time.
He wiped away my tears and said gently but firmly, "Well, Uncle wants to give you everything today!"
"You finally want me?"
"Yes, I think about you every day, especially after you leave. Uncle has to go back and mess with your aunt a few times, but my mind
is full of you." This must be the most unpleasant yet most beautiful love confession I've ever heard in my life, so true.
"I've been yours for a long time." I mustered my courage and said softly. Yes, from the
moment Uncle Xiong's hot hands first covered my body, I was burned and branded by him.
Hearing my words, he hugged me tighter, and at the same time, his hard penis pressed against my lower
abdomen . I let out a soft moan, a surge of heat rising in my lower abdomen, almost bringing me to my climax.
I lifted my head, stroking his broad face, my eyes misty with desire. He bent slightly,
lifting me up by my bottom. I kissed his broad forehead, looking at his憨憨 (simple and honest) smiling face, and pressed my lips to his. I
clung tightly to his waist, his large hands kneading my buttocks incessantly. Our tongues intertwined, demanding and
vying for dominance . We both swallowed each other's saliva, as if it were the most delicious nectar in the world,
not wanting to waste a single drop.
He carried me slowly to the bedside and placed me on it. He looked down at me tenderly
. In that instant, I saw that imposing Vajra Bodhisattva again. I gazed up at this Vajra Bodhisattva who was about to convert me
, and felt a deep sense of awe. As the saying goes, "Until hell is empty, I vow not to become a Buddha."
Finally, we could be completely honest with each other, and he finally stripped me naked with his own hands. I suddenly felt a little embarrassed
because I never turn over during massages, only my back. So, this was the first time he had
looked down at my bare breasts and flat stomach from the front.
I pressed my legs together, curled my knees, and placed my feet on his hairy belly. The fuzz
tickled , and my heart was itching even more. He grabbed my legs with one hand, stretching them out together against his
chest, his arms encircling my long, slender legs. Then, he took my toes into his mouth again, gently sucking on them. At the same time,
he leaned forward, his other hand touching the essential oil, slowly drizzling it over my body and gently applying it. Then,
he squeezed his already rock-hard penis between my wet legs, pressing it against my lower abdomen,
throbbing rhythmically.
Hot, yet comfortable.
I finally saw its true form. How could it be so big? I suddenly felt a little worried; I worried that my petite frame
couldn't bear its full weight. That thick, purple crown seemed to be proudly proclaiming its long and
battle-hardened history. At the top of the crown, there was a sparkling gem, as if formed from dew,
which would only shine when it was used in battle. A thick vein meandered down and finally disappeared into
the dense bushes.
With a sense of pilgrimage, I slowly grasped it with both hands; it was so hot. Feeling its powerful pulse,
I let out a long breath , then pressed it firmly against my lower abdomen, wishing I could just embed myself into it. Perhaps encouraged,
he wrapped his free hand around my thigh, pulling me closer to himself, leaving no gap between us,
then gently rubbed my lower abdomen and inner thighs, even inadvertently squeezing my labia. I felt so comfortable I
forgot myself , experiencing a surreal feeling, my legs involuntarily twitching slightly.
Perhaps he sensed I was close to climaxing, because he roughly parted my legs, knelt down, and kissed me
without a word .
I was startled and instinctively tried to push him away. But the moment his thick, curled tongue touched me, it began
to swirl and grind. I could only helplessly clutch his hair, moaning uncontrollably.
Before reaching my climax, I vaguely remembered reading in a book that if a bear from Northeast China licked
a person , half their face would be gone. But the bear's tongue beneath me was so gentle
and comforting; with a few flicks and hooks, it sent me to my peak.
Uncle Bear's previously restless chest hair was now damp and lay obediently against his muscular chest.
He wiped his mouth, looking at me mischievously. I knew what he wanted to ask. So I blurted out, "That feels so good!"
He nodded in satisfaction, knowing full well what I meant, "Want some more?"
"Yes, I want some!" To hell with my modesty, to hell with my pride. I knew that if
I didn't , I'd never have another chance.
He leaned down and gently kissed my forehead. I took the opportunity to hook my arms around his neck and wrap my arms around his
waist, cooing, "Hold me."
"Mmm!" Then he lifted me up with his right hand, pulling me into his embrace, and whispered, "I'll take you somewhere
."
He turned and opened the door, carrying me toward the staff break room—of course, the store was empty by then.
I clung to him, feeling the heat of his erection with every step he took, and greedily
licked his earlobe. He seemed to enjoy this little trick, occasionally giving my
butt .
The massage parlor owner was very considerate of his employees. The staff break room was furnished with large
brown leather sofas. I wasn't sure if they were real leather, but they looked incredibly comfortable. Uncle Xiong pulled me down to sit,
his hands around my waist, continuing to nuzzle my ear. I carefully lowered my body, sticking my butt out and
wiggling shyly .
"Ready?" he asked softly.
I didn't speak, but bit my lip and nodded vigorously.
"They're all yours!" he said firmly.
I easily found its position by following the heat source, then held it and slowly pressed it against me. It
throbbed , as if eager to explore the secrets hidden in this deep recess before me.
I sank deeper, a piercingly hot, full sensation filling my mind, yet also filling my heart
. I let out a soft moan, my voice trembling.
"Does it hurt?"
I nodded, then shook my head vigorously.
"It's not all the way in yet," he said with a mischievous grin.
I suddenly felt it playfully swell a few times, as if trying to expand this narrow space, to squeeze
to the deepest part, to pluck the sweetest nectar. "Once after you left, I slept with your aunt right here."
Hearing this, I felt a mix of emotions—happiness or jealousy, I didn't know. So, in a fit of
pique my teeth and sank down forcefully. A tearing sensation made me cry out.
He paused, perhaps surprised by my wildness. He patted my back gently, his voice
soft , "Relax, it's all yours today."
I tried to regulate my breathing, shifting slightly from side to side, searching for a more comfortable position. I slowly
adjusted to the burning fullness of his penis, which gradually transformed into a strange itching sensation, and I became restless
.
Uncle Xiong noticed my change and, supporting my waist, shifted his body downwards. With each inch he moved,
I was penetrated deeper. Finally, he lay on the sofa, and my deepest flower was finally
plucked. At that moment, I felt like Guanyin seated on a lotus throne, my jade hands forming a mudra, chanting seductive sounds.
I held his belly with one hand and supported myself on his chest with the other, slowly lifting my buttocks to
the highest point , then slowly sitting back down, repeating this process. Each time I reached the bottom, he groaned softly. Watching his blissful
expression, I felt a great sense of accomplishment, and unconsciously increased my speed until the sound of flowing water was incessant.
He considerately supported my buttocks, making it easier for me to sit down and lift up. But I didn't
want to save energy, because I knew that I was a prisoner of desire at this moment, and I wanted to use all my strength to wear myself
out of this prison of desire.
Then, he sent me to the peak once again.
I lay limply on top of him, my arms tightly wrapped around him, my body still occupied by the burning, full sensation.
He gently stroked my hair, then deliberately swelled it up, reminding me he wasn't quite done. I
gave in again, whispering in his ear, "Fuck me."
He seemed like a soldier finally given the order to charge; he sat up, growled, picked me up, and
headed towards the initial battlefield—Room 2, the place where it all began and would end.
Back in Room 2, he slowly placed me on the bed.
The moment he withdrew, my heart felt empty, and my body involuntarily arched upwards, yet I wanted to
hold onto this feeling of fullness. But he was ultimately not a man I could control—not even
a part .
"Lie down, give Uncle a squeeze first," he commanded.
I felt a momentary daze, as if I were back on the day we first became intimate. I rolled over in the most
seductive and , lying face down on the bed, unconsciously sticking my buttocks up. He considerately
placed a sheet under my lower abdomen as usual, then took the essential oil and poured it all over my full buttocks.
I squeezed my legs together, wiggling my buttocks, waiting for his favor. With a soft smack, his bear paw arrived
as expected , burning with a comfortable heat.
Then came the feeling of my inner thighs being filled; he had already made me addicted to this feeling of being on the verge of
collapse unable to extricate myself. He moved rhythmically, slowly and deliberately, but each time he made me gasp softly. When I was on my third...
During this second peak experience, as I offered my nectar, he didn't stop as he had the first time. Instead, he pressed forward
relentlessly, forcing open my trembling, tight labia and thrusting deep inside.
His thick, towering thighs, round, firm buttocks, and powerful body formed this
tireless war machine. His sole purpose was to send the owner of this delicate body to heaven once more.
He would pull out, push in all the way, pull out again, and push in all the way again, each time causing my labia to flip out and then being pushed back in,
all the while squeezing my buttocks into various shapes and leaving burning handprints.
The only feeling I had at that moment was utter despair. I prayed, hoping that one day I could fly with him.
Gradually , a beastly growl came from behind me, and then the beast increased the frequency of its ramming, making a series of thuds.
I felt it swell up, greedily draining me with unparalleled pride, until I gave up resistance and offered up
my last precious honey.
He was indeed a seasoned warrior; once he had won, he immediately withdrew. Then, with
a low growl, he pressed his ferocious, already-ready weapon against my buttocks, swirling and grinding it, finally
gushing out with a leap.
One stream, two streams, three streams, four streams, five streams, six streams, seven streams. My back was also left with one, two
, three, four, five, six, seven trails of lava flowing across it.
When emptiness overwhelmed me, I cried. Why was it that, at the peak of passion, I was
prepared to bear everything for him, yet he could remain rational and withdraw? I couldn't understand. I don't understand men, especially
this calculating, cautious, and dignified man. But I only know that I am a
woman worthy of his efforts and the frequent climaxes he brought me to, and I am content.
When we parted, he hugged me again. I knew this was the last time he would hug me. I didn't cry; instead, I smiled
. I was happy because I knew this wasn't a dream, but a precious life experience. I wouldn't
presume to say it was unforgettable, but at least I can't forget it. Even more wonderful is that tomorrow, I will transform back into that
reserved, proud, and self-assured literary youth, carrying the precious life experience etched into my heart, and resolutely
moving forward.
But as I opened the car door, ready to drive home, I heard his hurried footsteps.
For a fleeting moment, I thought of the ending of a soap opera. I thought this dreamlike thing had happened
to me—the male protagonist gave up everything for the female protagonist, rushed over to embrace her, kept her, and then
lived happily ever after.
As I turned around, my heart pounding with excitement but feigning calm, he stopped a meter away.
He still had that憨憨笑 (simple-minded smile), scratched his head, and said apologetically, "Girl, well, you might have to find
a different place for your massage. I know a good one
." "Why?" I was a little shocked, but more curious.
"I went back home, didn't I?" he said.
"Hmm, just because you went back doesn't mean I can't come here." I said noncommittally.
"The shop's lease expires next month, and the rent is going up." He continued.
"Hey Uncle Xiong, can you stop taking such long breaths? Just say what you want to say all at once!" I said, slightly annoyed,
mimicking his accent.
"I just took advantage of you, and I'm a little embarrassed to say it." He smiled sheepishly.
"Can you stop trying to outsmart me? Besides, I was the one begging you to fuck me!" I was really
angry , and I didn't care anymore.
"Well, the boss didn't want to do it all by herself, saying it was too tiring. So we decided not to
renew the lease—she'd already made her money back anyway."
I was stunned, hardly believing my ears.
"So, you're a boss too?" I asked, my eyes wide.
"Half a boss, I'm a partner with your aunt and her," he explained.
It turns out that the woman I prejudicially called "boss" was only responsible for appointments and payments; no wonder
everyone except Uncle Xiong called her the manager. Uncle Xiong was afraid of losing me as a repeat customer, so he had "boss"
recommend him to me. Uncle Xiong had given intensive training to the massage therapists, which is why I felt his technique was similar to Aunt Dong's.
Uncle Xiong knew the habits of all repeat customers and had already learned about my preferences through Aunt Dong, which is why he was so gentle... He
led me to room number 2 with practiced ease; Uncle Xiong turned off the lights and closed the shop every day because it was his duty as the boss, and he
always did everything himself; it was Uncle Xiong's consideration for his employees that led to the staff break room, which allowed him
to take care of my aunt there; it was because Uncle Xiong was the boss that he wasn't worried about anyone daring
to peek while he was doing my business, even if those people knew my shameful little thoughts… and so on.
Recalling all this, I was speechless for a long time. I was utterly defeated—both psychologically and physically—
and this man in front of me, I could never compare to him in my entire life. The petty cleverness of us so-called cultured people
can never surpass the great wisdom of the working people. They were forced by life, yet ultimately they triumphed
over life itself.
I feel that Uncle Xiong made me a more complete person.
So, thank you, Uncle Xiong.
[The End]

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