It All Started in Paradise

Surprise! It is not Nin and Anurak. Penchan and Anurak emerge from the stairway. A mother and son, mature and youth ensemble.

Ollie and Olivia wonder how this massage session is going to play out. They do know that this session has an instructional focus and objective. But, the Big Questions loom loud.

Why Penchan/Anurak, and not Anurak/Nin, notwithstanding that Penchan offers nice biodiversity?

Will it be same-sex or male-female pairing?

Will the masseuse and masseur be naked?

Will mother and son be seeing each other naked?

***

After the pleasantry socials, Penchan explains the underlying philosophy, and outlines the format for the session. Where she has challenges communicating her points, Anurak jumps in.

Penchan explains that she learned traditional massage techniques from her mother, who in turn learned it from her mother. So, this is at least four generations lineage deep. Penchan's grandma through Nin and Anurak. Nin and Anurak are still in apprenticeship, as the techniques take years to master. Hence, Penchan is running this session.

Penchan reveals that her grandmother was blind from birth. Her massage techniques were thus developed based on the set of sensory inputs that she experienced. High touch-and-feel. Zero reliance on vision. Once the massage starts, the body contact between the masseuse or masseur, and the massage subject, is never broken at anytime.

There is also absolute silence between the masseuse/masseur, and the massage subject. This forces touch-and-feel to be the only communication mode, thus heightening the experience.

This tradition is sustained till present day by the masseuse/masseur, and the massage subject, both wearing blindfolds. The blindfolded masseuse/masseur is thus compelled to stay faithful to the original massage techniques. On the flipside, the blindfolded massage subject is compelled to inhabit the same world as the masseuse/masseur. There is unity of context and purpose.

Furthermore, because effective massage necessarily requires full nudity, the blindfolds contribute to de-sexualising the process by suppressing the visual arousal input, a major source of arousal, but not so far as to de-sensualise the massage. Although difficult, if not impossible to demarcate, the objective is to achieve a level of sensuality and eroticism, but, without the lewd and lust.

The final underlying principle is symmetry. There is symmetry to every aspect of the process. For example, what applies to the left side of the body applies to the right side too. The techniques which apply to the male massage subject apply to the female subject. And so on. Whilst males and females are constructed differently, there are equivalents, for example, the female clitoris is the equivalent of the male penis.

The suite of techniques is rich and varied. In the limited time of the session, Penchan and Anurak will demonstrate a selection of their repertoire, particularly the easy-to-execute ones.

Anurak sets up the portable massage table in the living room. He then closes all the curtains, switches off all the lights, and lights up a mini parade of candles. Anurak switches on a small portable audio player. It emits soft soothing Thai instrumental music, the kind one can dream on awake. Like in the previous massage, the living room now has a boudoir-like ambience, fifty shades of grey manifesting all at once. Anurak sets up the oils.

Two chairs are placed in front of the length of the massage table. Penchan invites Ollie and Olivia to sit on these chairs, relax and wait for the massage demonstration to begin. Anurak serves them a light fragrant tea.

Penchan and Anurak excuse themselves to go to the washroom to prepare themselves.

Olivia looks quizzically at Ollie with high arched eyebrows.

What on earth is going to happen?

Who will be massaging whom?

How far will they go?

Are they mere passive student observers, or do they later have an active role?

And the lumbering elephant in the room - will the students be massaging each other after the demo?

These questions confuse, and perversely, excite them.

Ollie shrugs, "They appear to know what they're doing. They've a system. Just go with the flow. We're on this holiday to stock up new experiences. We're doing exactly that now. This whole traditional massage thing, the blindfold, the silence, the symmetry, the abstraction, the mystique, intrigues me. It may well be grist for my literary mill. This may be the inspiration I need to get my creative juices secreting."

Olivia ponders, "Hmmm..." She decides to say no more. She thinks of the possibilities for her own erotic poems and short stories creative process.

***

Meanwhile, Penchan and Anurak undress in the washroom. Penchan folds their clothes and stows them neatly in a corner.

Penchan looks at her son with a frown, "You're not in a presentable state. Come here."

Penchan kneels before her son. She rubs his perineum, that is, the area between the sac and the anus, in a methodical therapeutic way.

She softly kneads his sac for awhile.

She forms a ring on her right hand with her thumb and index finger, encircling the root of her son's penis. She tightens the grip. Anurak winces. She slides the ring to his head in steps, increasing the tension at each stop. It is as if she is bleeding viscous air or something from a pliant tube.

She finishes up by twisting his head gently as if turning the bulbous cork head of a bottle of champagne. But, there is no fizz, nary a granule leak of moist.

A Zen quality to all this.

"There, I've bled off the tension."

Anurak now looks dignified and regal, and yet vital. The lewd and lusty look is gone. But, he manages this only just so. The unspoken charm of so many things is when they fall on just the right side edge of the line.

Gratefully, as only a son can be, "Thanks, Ma."

Mother and son don their robes. They check that their blindfolds are in their robe pockets. Penchan does one last check on her son. Her son is just about right. Team mother/son is ready.

***

Penchan nods respectfully at Oliie and Olivia. It is an implicit signal that the silence of the process has begun.

Mother and son stand facing the length of the massage table. Their backs are to their guests. A nuanced bit of socially conditioned modesty.

They wear their blindfolds. The blindfolds are of the type issued by air stewardesses in commercial flights. This implicitly marks the beginning of the visual sensory shutout.

Of the five human senses of sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell, the video and audio cables have been yanked out. It is said that humans can compensate for sensory loss, like blind people have a heightened sense of hearing and touch.

Mother and son disrobe matter-of-factly. Being blindfolded, the socially conditioned modesty seems to melt away instantly, like a switch has been flipped.

Ollie and Olivia gasp. From their first massage session experience, they have expected nudity of their hosts. But, they did not expect this to come on so soon, so nonchalantly, so dramatic, so full-on. And with the blindfolded masseuse and masseur, three-quarters of their modest squeamishness instantly fall away, because they can appreciate the nudity before them openly. No need to steal guilty surreptitious rationed glances. The remnant modesty baggage now is their being conscious of each other ogling the nudity before them, an incidental guilt that will erode away soon with habituation.

Ollie and Olivia begin to appreciate the wisdom of Penchan's point about the benevolent effects of the shutout of sight sensory input.

That said, at another level, Ollie and Olivia are processing the reality that this is a mother and son naked together right before their eyes. But, the mother and son do not see each other. Is a mother really nude if the son cannot see his mother? Does a falling tree deep in the forest make any sound if there is no one to hear? An entire service industry has been built around blind masseuses and masseurs, so, what does it say about the philosophy of our senses?

Ollie snaps back to live in the present moment before it slips away too. He ascertains Penchan. She looks her mid-to-late fifties. A fast-forward aged vintage Nin, mellowed, rounded and artfully curved. Lush. Comely, not unlike Olivia, but a more acute interpretation of Ruben's generosity of worldview.

Olivia revisits Anurak. The back of an exotic statuesque Adonis. He has the build of a competitive swimmer, but rendered subtly rather than in an eminently rippling olympian form. A soft proportionality. A delicate muscularity.

Still with their backs to their guests, Penchan oils her son. First his top, front and back. Then, she kneels before him, as if worshiping a Sun God, and oils from his feet to his midsection. Her movement becomes a bit more gentle and tender at his midsection.

Penchan gives her son a tug. It is the implicit signal that she is done.

Anurak repeats the process for his mother. He oils her lush back from neck to her waist. She has pronounced sexy sacral dimples. When he oils her sides, running his hands in one slick movement from her shoulders down to her mid-thighs, it is like he is artfully tracing the outline of a sexy voluptuous woman in the air.

Anurak then kneels before his mother as if worshiping the Earth Mother. He oils her feet, drifting up to her thighs, and then her rump. He lingers on each arse orb, oiling and tracing their curves with tender attention. Each orb has an identity in its own right, and collectively, a personality that makes a statement.

His mother's back done, Anurak does his mother's front. Penchan and Anurak still have their backs to their guests. Ollie and Olivia have thus far not seen Penchan's front. They mentally imagine her front from Anurak's oiling movements over her contours.

Ollie and Olivia are awed by their fluency of movement. It is as if they are not blindfolded. They appear to be communicating in a body language they are conversant in.

Do they practise this often? After all, Anurak is under apprenticeship. Did Penchan not say it takes years to master the craft? How does Penchan train Nin?

***

Anurak settles face-down on the padded table.

Penchan makes an exaggerated animated movement to touch and feel her son, to mark this beginning of the massage, and that there will be no break in the body contact until the session is over.

Penchan's hands glide over her son's back. She reaches up to his head, and down to his feet, as if mentally visualising her son's form, setting him up for the massage.

Penchan starts the massage in earnest. As she moves around the table, she never allows her hands to leave her son at any time. She is always keeping at least one hand, if not her body, in contact with him.

She massages deep, presses hard. She attacks the knotted areas with vigour, then shifting gear to light soothing touches for other areas. Anurak appears pleasantly relaxed, almost asleep.

Penchan spends the first half hour using her hands, primarily on Anurak's back, shoulders and legs, bleeding off the tension.

Ollie and Olivia observe the magic wielded by Penchan's hands. They can almost feel Penchan working their bodies, vigorously then softly, as they watch her ministrations. They almost writhe their body in little movements, in unison with Anurak's movements.

Even though operating blind, Penchan appears to know her son's body better than himself, and any lover that he has and will have.

***

Just when Ollie and Olivia think that Penchan is done with her son's back, she climbs up the massage table, straddling him. Her torso is upright, her buttocks on the small of his back. It is as if she is priming herself for a ride.

Penchan leans forward, lowers her torso onto her son's back. Her breasts are mashed against his shoulder blades. She starts to glide her torso, rhythmically, back and forth, back and forth. Her buttocks scoot as far down as his calves, and then in reverse, as far up as his midback. Her torso, melding and melting onto her son's back, has replaced her hands as the massage implement.

Olivia tightens her grip on Ollie's hands. This is the most erotic thing she has ever witnessed. She is highly aroused by this sensual spectacle.

Ollie is tenting in his robe. But, he is beyond caring. Olivia is preoccupied with her own emotions anyway.

Penchan slides way up her son's back. She stops there momentarily. Each breast, sagging a little, is lodged between the top of his shoulder and his neck. Earlier, her body is the massaging implement. Now, it is her breasts.

She grinds her breasts vigorously. At first, the gyrating, swaying breasts slap his neck. It is almost comic slapstick. A light moment in what is an intense regime of activity. Settling down, her breasts grind and massage deep into her son's shoulders and neck. Anurak squirms in ecstasy.

After awhile, Penchan slides down some. Her breasts are digging deep, grinding her son's shoulder blades. Her hard sprout of nipples poke his flesh. Ollie and Olivia see one side of Penchan's breast compresses then releases, compresses then releases, against Anurak's shoulder blade.

Penchan glides down farther. Her breasts are working the small of his back. Right breast burrowing deep into the concave dip of the back. Then, left breast.

Penchan glides down still farther. Her breasts are working his buttocks. Breast orbs rubbing, grinding arse orbs. Orbs on orbs. Pliant against pliant.

Penchan glides a little downslope. She grinds her right breast at the junction of Anurak's lower arse crack and upper thighs. Then, her left breast. Anurak has sensitive upper thighs. He writhes in agony. He instinctively closes his legs a little to grip his mother.

Finally, Penchan glides way down. Her arse sticks up a little. Her breasts work the back of his thighs. Pliant flesh grinding firm muscular male meat. The traction heightens Anurak's excitement.

***

Penchan stops. She gets off the massage table. This is the signal for Anurak to roll over.

Penchan stands at the head of the table. She bends over impossibly low.

Ollie and Olivia note that this is the mother and son's first front-to-front intimate contact.

She positions herself so that her stomach is pressing against Anurak's head. She reaches down across his chest, and then, slightly lower. Anurak can feel his mother's warm breath. Each time she reaches down low, her plump breasts graze his face.

Penchan's fingers softly trace lines across Anurak's chest, his stomach, and slightly lower until they press on his pubic bone, then goes back up again. Her fingers seem to feel and understand everything they are touching. Penchan's breasts are now grinding her son's face. It is a good thing that he has his blindfold on, or her rigid nipples will poke his eyes to blindness.

Anurak's penis begins to fill and grow. When Penchan presses down on his pubic bone, her fingers linger there. One breast is against his lips, her hair on his chest.

Penchan moves to the side. She starts rubbing Anurak's shoulders, then down his chest, then to his hip, rubbing gentle circles there. She moves her hands inward from his hips, but not touching his penis, then moving away.

More circles, greater pressure. She avoids all contact with his penis, but every inch around it is being rubbed, massaged, stroked with her fingers, and occasionally, her nails, which give a raw sensation.

She goes up and down his thighs, back to his lower stomach, inside his thighs, then to his stomach again. It is excruciating pleasure for Anurak. His penis is now in full flourish, aching for attention.

Her fingers brush gently against his penis. She now knows her son's state. Hard and ripe.

She massages his perineum. Doing circles and exerting just the right pressure. Anurak emits a moan. His penis is a rock-grade hard. It is dripping precum.

She sits by his hip. Her hands stay around his lower stomach and upper thighs, concentrating again near his penis. His shaft quivers and begs for attention. Her hand runs across his sac, then back again to his hip.

Her hand wraps around his shaft. Anurak is softly moaning in her warm oil-covered hands. She begins massaging and milking her son.

Her thumb detects the precum on the tip. She spreads it round the head, rubbing it around, feeling the velvety skin. She milks some more. She again spreads the granules of fluid, covering the whole head with slickness.

She lets her fingers trace the veins. Her fingers press deeper, feeling the texture of his hardness, sensing what is underneath the skin.

Anurak's hand is near the edge of the table. Penchan's arm brushes against his hand several times, moving it towards and eventually over the edge. His hand settles on warm firmness. Anurak realises that his palm is touching his mother's thigh. Penchan makes no move to put his hand back.

As she milks and strokes his penis, Anurak begins to explore the muscles of her thigh. He enjoys the tightness and strength.

Penchan moves closer. She increases the tempo of stroking. Her hands tighten, then relax, tighten again. Anurak's hips buck. It will not be long. Anurak's hand raises up to her soft rise of belly, tracing its arc, touching it.

Penchan keeps up the treatment on his penis, bending it downwards and then back up, her oil-slick hands pumping him. Anurak's hand moves to cup her breast. Plump, pliant and warm. He fondles then kneads the swell. He seeks her nipple, and finds it. She writhes a little, emits a soft moan. He holds her nipple gently in his fingers like a precious nugget of treasure.

She speeds up again. Anurak is close. Her breast feels so good. He feels the tide rising in him, and she must have sensed it too. His whole body begins to tense. His back arches as his penis swells in her moving hands. He comes powerfully in his mother's hands.

She keeps pumping, slower and slower, drawing the last of the come from her son. He collapses back on to the table. She does not stop. She milks gently every last drop.

***

Penchan and Anurak break body contact. They remove their blindfolds, put on their robes.

Penchan breaks the silence.

"Mr Oliver and Ms Olivia, would you like to do your massage now, to apply the techniques you've observed? I'll be happy to oversee your massage. Or, do you prefer to do it on your own time?"

Olivia looks at Ollie in astonishment. As he recovers from his stupor, Anurak observes their reaction with amused interest.

Ollie the diplomat, "This has been a long session. Your demonstration is very useful. We've learned alot. You must be tired. We'll do our massage on our own time another day."

Penchan closing, "This bag is for you. It contains the oils, blindfolds and related massage things."

Penchan and Anurak leave.

Ollie teasing, "When are you up for this? These are valuable life skills. Use 'em or lose 'em."

Olivia smirks, "I'll think about it..."

***

Chapter 12

Sail

Olivia's hand hangs over the stern cutting a trail in the sea. "I think I've found my sea legs."

Ollie teases, "I find them shapely and lovely. They please and tease."

She extends her bare legs in front of him. Points her painted sisterly toes at him. She poses her legs this way and that in animated mock fashion model postures, shoe dangling off her toes, come-hither, and then ending up crossing her legs coquettishly.

Lusty wolf whistle.

"What do you remember best from our childhood sails?"

"Rainwater tea."

"What?"

"Mum's rainwater tea. That she painstakingly collected raindrops from the heavens, boiled them collectively, and brewed tea. She would ask me how it tastes. I'd say much better than regular tea. It did, you know."

"Mum has a gift for persuasion."