Successful experiences of heterosexual spa treatments

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.

I suddenly felt a little embarrassed, since I had come with the intention of seeking "special services." However, this discomfort lasted only a second, because I told myself, "I'm a customer; what customer is afraid of a service provider?" At that moment, the masseur smiled and said, "Let me help you change." I stood up, and he unbuttoned my shirt and quickly removed it (including my bra). I felt awkward having him help me take off my pants, so I took off my trousers myself, leaving my underwear on. By then, he had already arranged pillows and laid out a bath towel, had me put on a disposable massage suit, and had me 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 starting 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 logic is the same as with masturbation: many men or women masturbate either because of promiscuity, infidelity, or other reasons. These professional male massage therapists
give you the same delicate caresses on your skin every time, making your whole body relax. Psychologically, the husband is the active party, the conqueror; the male massage therapist is someone I paid for, someone who serves me. Therefore, a male massage therapist is better than having a husband.

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Successful experiences of heterosexual spa treatments

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