A Virtuoso Thai MassagebyCandleLit©
It was a warm but rainy day in Phuket, Thailand. The monsoon season had struck early, right in the middle of my two-week vacation to that beautiful country.
The first week had been a wonderful adventure, sunny tropical beaches punctuated by occasional passionate encounters with local Thai girls and Russian tourist girls. I had been working out and getting very tan, feeling great and being well received by the people I met. Life was pretty damn good.
When the rains started early it was like a giant switch had been flipped. People deserted the beaches in favor of the shops and bars. The nightlife was still fun but pouring rain put a damper on the daytime fun and walking around meant you were going to wear a plastic poncho or get soaked to the skin.
One of the wonderful things about Phuket was there were hundreds of massage salons throughout the island. Not sex parlors at all but regular massage salons where you could fall into a drowsy bliss while the experienced masseuse oiled, rubbed and relaxed you for an hour or so.
My favorite salon had a remarkably beautiful young Thai girl with raven hair, big lovely brown eyes and coffee-colored skin. One day after giving me an amazing massage she climbed up on to the table, surprised me with a long, passionate kiss and asked if she could meet me later back at my rented condo... but that is another story.
On this day I was a little bored and didn't have anything to do until a Muay-Thai boxing match later that night. The rain was coming down in a constant downpour. I had worked out until my muscles and joints were hurting and needed a break. Driving around the island I saw a sign that read, 'Center for Blind Massage'.
In Seoul, Korea I had a great experience with a blind masseuse. She had done a wonderful job in relaxing me after a 9 hour flight and afterwards I slept like a baby. Maybe another relaxing massage would be a good thing, then a nap and head out to the boxing match later that night.
I pulled into the parking lot and asked if there was an opening. Because there was no-one waiting and the lady at the desk said this masseuse was their best, I scheduled a two-hour block with her. They led me to a back room, quiet and private.
There were windows up high letting in a soft warm breeze and a radio softly playing some Thai music; the table was covered in immaculate white sheets and some nearby incense smelled like lavender. Very nice. The lady instructed me to undress and lay on the table, she would lead in my masseuse.
Most oil massages I had there were in the nude and the lady was blind, so off came all of my clothes and I settled face-down on to the padded table, placed a towel over myself, listened to the music and let my mind wander. A few moments later the lady escorted in my masseuse, introducing her as Pensri. She then left us and closed the door.
Pensri's hands glided over my back, letting me know she was there and probably professionally appraising me. She reached up to my head and down to my feet, understanding more about the person before her.
She put some oil on her hands and started the massage in earnest. As she moved around the table she never let her hands leave me; she was always keeping at least one hand touching me. She was amazing. She knew intuitively how deep to go, how hard to press, what was knotted and what just needed a soothing touch. In a few minutes I was pleasantly relaxed, in an hour I was almost asleep and hoping the massage would never end.
She spent the first half of the massage primarily on my back, shoulders and legs. All the tension from working at a computer desk and the long cross-Pacific flights was gone. Her hands were magic and I was willingly enchanted by them. She had run her hands across my back and down to my legs, across my butt so many times that the towel was in the way and she had tossed it aside.
Even blind, this woman probably knew my body better than anyone alive. Not distracted by what she was seeing, her ability to understand my body with her hands surpassed anyone I had known. If I only knew a lover who had such a touch!
At about the halfway point she stopped and motioned for me to roll over. This was the first time I got a good look at Pensri; she was probably late 30's, nice figure, her straight black hair framing a pleasant face with classic Thai features. Her eyes were closed. She was wearing a thin sleeveless cotton blouse and black Capri pants. Her arms showed remarkable definition.
"Such strong hands for a small woman," I thought. "I'll bet her arms are like steel." I had to suppress the urge to reach out to feel how muscled they were.
By touch she located the towel and draped it across my hips for my modesty. I just lay there and sighed, settled on my back and practically purring with contentment. Dripping the warm oil over my chest, she stood at the head of the table and started in on me again. The music played and I thought, "This must be what heaven is like."
Now I could smell her hair and her perfume as she bent over me. She had positioned herself so that her stomach was pressing against my head and she was reaching down across my chest and slightly lower. I could feel her warm breath. Each time she reached down low, her breasts grazed my face.
Up to this point I was just enjoying the best massage of my life. Now she had added a more sensual element and I was having a terrible time trying to keep my body from reacting.
Again and again her fingers softly traced lines across my chest, my stomach and slightly lower until they pressed on my pubic bone, then went back up again. Her fingers seemed to feel and understand everything they were touching. My mind was almost lost in her perfume and the feel of her breasts gently touching me.
The will of my body was winning. My cock began to fill and grow under the towel. When she pressed down on my pubic bone, her fingers seemed to linger there. I could feel her going under the towel covering me. Had she meant to do that? How could I think with her breast now against my lips and her hair on my chest?
With a start I realized that this woman knew exactly what she was doing. She was a master of her craft. She was exploring my body's reactions. She knew every part of me and was touching me in ways to bring out pleasure.
I was far from home, more relaxed than I had ever been with a woman and she was now subtly indicating more was to come. All I had to do was let it happen. Surrender to pleasure.
So I did. Eyes closed, I breathed deeply and let her do whatever she would. My body would respond however it would, I wouldn't fight it.
Her hands on my chest felt my breath and she must have heard the sigh, feeling my body relax under her touch. She moved to the side and started rubbing my shoulders, then down my chest, then to my hip, doing gentle circles there. She added more oil and moved her hands inward under the towel but not touching my cock, only inwards just missing, then moving away.
More circles, more pressure in places only lovers touch me when they are headed for my manhood. She was avoiding all contact with my cock but every inch around it was now being rubbed, massaged, stroked with her fingers and occasionally her nails. She went up and down my thighs, back to my lower stomach, inside my thighs, then to my stomach again... it was excruciating pleasure. My cock was now full and wanting attention. I just let it go, let whatever was going to happen just happen. Her fingers brushed gently against my cock and I was positive she now knew how I was reacting, hard and ready.
She then went back to my chest and shoulders, rubbing deeply and concentrating on my muscles. Had I misread her? Was she avoiding going lower because my body was reacting to her?
She kept working on my chest and shoulders, my cock reluctantly lowering and body realizing that now might not be the time. But then after a few minutes she slowly went lower, then lower still, until again she was on my hips, again she went under the towel and inward, rubbing and stroking the skin all around my cock.
She again explored all the muscles in and around my hips, my whole abdomen, my upper thighs. Her fingers moved magically across the places just beside my cock and again my body began to respond. I grew and grew and her hand just grazed it so softly I wondered if I imagined the touch. Then she moved away, this time going to my legs and feet.
For the next hour this incredible woman kept me on the edge of the most intense desire I have ever felt. She would go slowly towards my cock, rubbing all around and everything near; my cock would grow again to its hardest, then she would move away and massage something else, letting my excitement smolder. My cock would go down slightly and my breathing must have gone regular again, then she would start all over.
When she went back and was massaging the perineum between my legs, doing circles and giving just the right amount of pressure, I let out an involuntary moan. My cock was as hard as steel and must have been dripping precum like crazy. She responded with a quiet "hmmmm..." and moved away again towards my legs.
She was a virtuoso, playing me like a tuned instrument.
After a time she pulled over a stool and seated herself by my hips. This time her hands stayed around my lower stomach and upper thighs, concentrating again so near my cock it leapt up and begged for attention. I expected her to tease again but this time something different happened; in a deliberate move her hand ran across my balls, then back again to my hip.
Her hand then lightly passed across my skin and her fingers grazed the side of my cock, drawing the length of it with a feather-light touch. I must have been breathing as though running a marathon. It had been teased so long, so well, I was silently begging her for release.
Her hand then wrapped around my shaft and she slowly pulled away the towel that had been covering me. I was softly moaning in her warm oil-covered hands and she began massaging and milking the shaft of my cock.
Her thumb found the precum on the tip and she took some time spreading it all around the head, rubbing it around and feeling the velvety skin there. She milked out some more and again spread it around, covering the whole head with slickness.
She seemed fascinated to just touch it, feel it, stroke it. I began to think perhaps she was enjoying herself having a man there to tour, to explore every part of him and his sex. She would sometimes let her fingers trace the veins, sometimes her fingers would press deeper, feeling the details of my hardness, what was underneath the skin.
My hand was near the edge of the table and her arm brushed against it several times, moving it towards and over the edge. It settled on warm firmness and I realized my palm was touching her thigh, my fingers ever so gently wrapping around the top. She made no move to put my hand back and as she milked and stroked my cock I began to explore the muscles of her thigh, enjoying the tightness and strength.
She moved closer on the chair and increased the tempo of stroking. Her hands would tighten, then relax, then tighten again. Involuntarily my hips bucked, it would not take long to pull a huge orgasm out of me. My hand raised of its own up to her firm stomach, tracing it and touching there.
She kept up the treatment on my cock, bending it downwards and then back up, her oil-slick hands pumping me. My hand moved to her breast and cupped it, firm and small and warm. I sought the nipple, found it. She giggled and I held her nipple gently in my fingers as she sped up again.
She had me completely. I was so close. Her breast felt so good. I felt it rising in me and she must have also. My whole body began to tense and my back arched as my cock swelled in her moving hands.
Like a lightning flash the orgasm hit me, and the following thunder of huge squirts of come flowing out of me with such force they splashed my chest, my shoulders, the table beside me. I must have moaned, I have no idea. I came and came in her hands.
She kept pumping, slower and slower, pulling the last of the come from me. I collapsed back on to the table. She didn't stop, milking gently every last drop from my cock.
I felt like a racehorse after a distance race. I could only lay there and breathe, my eyes not focusing on anything, in the most blissful state of afterglow imaginable.
After milking me and being satisfied there was no more, she moved and with a couple of towels, started wiping the come from my chest and shoulders. She would find it with her fingers and then clean it up.
Then she added the finale; she started massaging me again, this time a soft relaxing touch to enhance the incredible pleasure. She touched me all over, her fingers so light as though they were kissing me. This really must be what heaven is like.
After a few more minutes, she indicated that it was time to finish. She bowed and left me alone, dazed and making a few clumsy moves to get dressed again.
I went to the front desk and she was led out by the same lady as before. I paid for the massage, then gave a ridiculously large tip to Pensri. She just giggled and thanked me as I handed it to her.
I left into the rain and to my hotel. I hoped I could stay awake for the short drive. As the wipers struggled to keep up with the downpour, I realized that I just had the most intense sexual experience of my life, thanks to a virtuoso in Thailand who had played me like a musical instrument.
I slept for the next twelve hours, right through the boxing match and into the next day.