Massage

OK, so things happening in rapid succession.

Firecracker sent me two texts last week that I didn't answer because I was lounging on the beach and didn't want to turn on my phone. I replied last night and explained that I was away and didn't get her messages until Monday night. We are going to go for a motorcycle ride either Thursday or Friday night. I plan on ending up back at my place for a dip in the hot tub.

I got a reply back from Kay about dinner. She is out of town this weekend for a wedding, so we are going to have dinner next week at a time TBD. Actually looking forward to that.

Lastly, I'm starting to think that I give off some toxic hormone that makes chicks do weird things to and around me. Last night I decided I needed a massage. My bike ride aches and pains were compounded this weekend by hours of wake boarding. I went online yesterday afternoon and Googled massage parlors in Washington, DC. Eventually a wound up on a page called yelp.com that apparently has users review all types of services. I settled on a "spa" in Dupont on Connecticut Ave that had a ton of good reviews. I called and made an appointment for that evening with a female masseuse.

I arrived a few minutes early and took a seat in the waiting area. The place was plain, bordering on seedy, but the reviews said it wasn't fancy, but that the massages were great and reasonably priced. After about 15 minutes a small, middle-aged Asian woman came out and said she was ready for me. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, which I thought was a little unusual.

I was led into a small massage room and she said she would be back. I undressed and laid down on the massage table under a sheet. The masseuse came back about 3 minutes later and started massaging my feet. I explained that my lower back was killing me, and asked her to spend some extra time on that.

The tiny little woman worked her way over my calves and hamstrings, then climbed on the table and began using her knees to crush my muscles. She was so small that it actually worked well, but sometimes bordered on painful. She used this technique all the way up my legs, back, butt and shoulders. On several occasions I had to tell her to ease up a bit.

After about 30 minutes she climbed off me and removed the sheet that had been covering my ass. "OK, that's a bit unusual" I thought to myself. She laid the sheet on my back and resumed the pummelling. She then moved the sheet on my legs and worked them. My ass was still exposed. Then she removed the sheet completely and placed a tiny hand towel on my ass and asked me to roll over. At this point the massage ceased to be relaxing, I was now uncomfortable and not enjoying myself.

I held the towel and rolled over, placing it back on my crotch. The massage resumed at my feet. She worked her way up my legs, casually throwing the towel aside to work my upper thighs.

Now I was thinking I had inadvertently signed up for a rub-and-tug. I chuckled as I thought about the yelp.com post I was going to submit as soon as I got out of there.

The next 15 minutes were the least relaxing of any massage I have ever had. The towel was placed on my chest and the woman began pressing on my chest and heart and instructed me when to inhale and exhale. On the exhales she would put all her weight on my chest, which I thought was an ancient Thai technique for placing someone in cardiac arrest. While all this pressing and breathing was going on, her arm was continually brushing against my penis. If my blood flow wasn't being restricted by her crushing my left ventricle, I probably would have had a hard on.

The "massage" ended when she removed the towel, thanked me, and walked out of the room. I popped off the table and quickly put my clothes on. I turned up the lights and carefully checked the room for hidden cameras, certain that I was being filmed for some sort of Asian massage fetish porno.

I walked out of the room pretty-well stunned. I paid the woman at the counter the $100, plus $20 tip, and got the hell out of there. The funny thing it that while it was an uncomfortable massage, my back feels like a million bucks today. I still haven't decided if it was a rub-and-tug joint, or she was just an old-school Asian and didn't give two shits about modesty.