Malay Meeting Massage

In my 20s and early 30s I was an avid traveler, and I spent a lot of time working my way through South East Asia and the surrounding pacific islands. About a decade ago I was doing some software work for a company in Malaysia and I was supposed to attend a series of meetings followed by a conference in Kuala Lumpur.

The flight from my hometown to Narita and over to KL left me exhausted. I'm unfortunately unable to sleep on flights so I was awake during the entire 15 hour ordeal with only a few winks of un-restful sleep to hold me over.

I was picked up directly from the airport and in a complete blur, I met my contact; Hans, and was ferried directly to the office in the heart of the city. The first meeting which was already underway with my new work associates was a hellish affair, I could barely keep my eyes open and I'm sure they noticed. They understood that I was horribly jet lagged, but my performance was underwhelming at best.

"Hey man, it's okay, " Hans said, with his thick German accent. "You get some sleep and we'll see you in the morning."

He dropped me off downtown in the heart of chinatown where I booked a cheap hotel for myself a week before. I said goodbye and as Hans drove off, I checked my phone. 2pm local time. Hell. I'd be at least 5 hours before I could legitimately go to sleep and not completely screw myself over. I shook my head and popped open my maps app to figure out where my hotel was.

I walked down a crowded street. Covered stalls almost completely filled the road. They sold everything from fruit to watches. The buildings that lined the streets also boasted a battery of shops on either side and my brain reeled with the sheer amount of information being displayed to me. I made my way down the gauntlet of commerce until the dot on my phone matched my position.

My hotel entrance's only indication was a narrow concrete staircase with a small sign above it. This was it. I walked up the stairs and into a medium sized lobby. There was a rug, a table, four chairs, and a window in the wall at the far side with a woman's face behind it. Another staircase disappeared up to the next floor on the opposite side of the wall.

"Hello." I said as I approached the window. I never know what level of English to expect when I visit these types of places, but I was pleasantly surprised.

"Hi there," she replied. She was a middle aged Malay woman with typical glasses and a dark blue uniform. "Checking in?"

I gave her my info and she slid a contract to sign through a slit at the bottom of the window. After I signed it and slid it back to her, she slid a key card through the slit and told me my room number.

I walked up the staircase on the opposite side and found my room easily. My hotel accommodation consisted of a single room with a bed, a desk and a chair in it, and an adjacent room with a toilet, sink above that and showerhead above that. A drain sat in the center of the small bathroom. Some hotels in the region combined all of the bathroom functions into one small room so you could theoretically sit on the toilet while you have a shower as you're brushing your teeth. It's highly functional, but everything is unfortunately constantly wet. I dropped my bag, used the hell out of that bathroom, took a quick shower, changed into some fresh clothes and decided to head out to get something to eat. I just needed to stay awake for 4 or 5 more hours.

As I descended the stairs out into the street, a small restaurant across the road caught my eye. Winding my way through the crowds of people, I snaked over to see what kind of food they were serving. The smell of fried fish, noodles, and seasoned veggies filled my nostrils as I approached. Malay food is awesome, so I grabbed a Styrofoam container and hungrily served myself a heaping serving from the array of square metal troughs. They charged by weight so I dropped the requisite currency in the cashiers hand and found a place to sit near the entrance so I could finally take in my cacophonous surroundings.

The stalls in the street were wholly ignorable. I never found watches and trinkets compelling. Some of them were selling snacks and I made a mental note of that, but on the other side of the road, near the back something else caught my eye. A small covered area with a little white sign said "Massage."

I finished lunch, wiped my hands and made my way over. The plan I'd formulated was that I'd book an appointment for sometime the next day after all of the meetings were done. My neck was killing me from the flight and so I figured I'd be entitled to a bit of relief.

I pushed the canvas tarp to the side and ducked under the flap to reveal the massage parlor. A little desk and chair sat to the side by the entrance and a row of little rooms were created with sections of the tarp material affixed to the ceiling somehow. By moving the tarp to the side I'd inadvertently rung a door bell which was tied to a string by the doorway.

An attractive dark skinned Malay woman poked her head out of the first room. I opened my mouth to speak but she excitedly ran out of the room and, giggling, she grabbed my arm and began pulling me back into the first room.

Another woman poked her head out of one of the rooms to respond to the bell and she smiled and blushed when we met eyes. She was tiny and pale. I smiled back at her.

"Eighty." She said pointing at her palm.

I fiddled in my pocket for whatever cash I had. I had a hundred on me so I handed it to her and shrugged. At the time it was around $20 where I came from. I figured I could spare the expense.

A dim lamp sat on a small table in the corner of the room and struggled to illuminate the space. A massage table rested at a little lower than waist height in the center of the room. A small box of tissues sat on the table next to a small bottle of massage oil.

My masseuse wore a pair of jeans and a brown short sleeved scrub top with a little name tag whose characters I couldn't read. She was quite buxom for a Malay woman, and I could see that she had large breasts under her top and curvy hips. Her skin was a bit darker than usual. Her exposed arms were taught and her wrists were strong. No doubt from doing massage work all day. She wore little sandals and had a cute little toe ring with a sparkly pink gem on it. She had long straight black hair, big pretty eyes, and wore dark red lipstick.

She made a flourish with her hands down my body and then turned around. I figured she wanted me to undress. I pulled off my shorts and tank top and stepped out of my sandals. I put my hand on the band of my underwear and stopped for a moment - I was either going to pull my underwear off or ask her if I should keep them on.

She spun around and locked eyes with my underwear. They were black and white striped and they were "hip style" underwear. Hip style means that they kind of look like women's panties. They are high thigh style underwear. I used to wear them because I thought they looked funny and I derived some strange satisfaction from women laughing at me when I took my pants off. It lightened the mood. At the very least I had some control over when they'd laugh.

They had their desired effect. The masseuse reached forward and snapped the band of my undies as she let out a loud "Ha". With a smirk she motioned towards the massage bed and I hopped up and laid down face first with my head in the cradle. I looked down at the floor, which was just a rug that I imagine was laid on top of the sidewalk. Such a janky setup for a massage parlor. Since I felt a little awkward, I didn't adjust my penis before I laid down on the bed. It laid flaccid in my underwear, pointing down towards my feet.

It was strangely quiet in this little makeshift space. I couldn't hear any of the other clients and the street noise was cut down to a minimum. Before I could think about the ambiance anymore, I felt strong hands on my back. She started working my shoulders which immediately began to reduce the tension I felt in my neck. I breathed a sigh of relief. With my stomach full and her nice soft fingers on my back I began to drift off.

I awoke a few moments later with a snort. Something had grazed the bottom of my ball sack. My reality slowly came back into perspective. I was in a massage parlor. I was almost naked. I lifted my head out of the cradle and glanced around. Sleep deprivation had briefly affected my short term memory. As I raised and turned my head out of the cradle, my face came directly into contact with a large pair of breasts behind a brown scrub top.

She instinctively moved backwards and we locked eyes. Raising a hand to her breast she coyly fluttered her eyelashes. I think I startled her. Maybe gave her the impression that I wanted to rest my head on her boobs. She walked to the entrance of the room and poked her head out of the tarp for a moment. We waited. Then to my surprise she secured the tarp, turned around and stripped off her top.

Her big meaty breasts sat hungrily in their slings. Her bra was comically undersized so delicious breast meat bulged over the tops and bottoms. She returned to the massage table and made a circular motion with her fingers instructing me to turn over.

My mouth hung open at the sight of her juicy breasts. My penis began to harden underneath me. I became very aware that my underwear, despite being hilarious, did a shitty job of hiding erections. I slowly turned over giving my dick time to calm down. It did not.

I laid back on my elbows, chest upright, looking down at my package. The masseuse approached the table and ran her fingers down my feet, up my calves, and up my thighs. She smiled at me. She walked around the table behind me, and I could hear her unclasp the hook on her bra. As she came back into view I watched her bra playfully fall down, revealing one heavy breast and then the other.

Despite her darker skin, her nipples were a dusty rose. They were tiny little bumps on areolas the size of quarters. The breast itself was larger than I think I'd ever seen on such a small frame. Big, natural, heavy breasts.

Her hands found their way back to me. She squeezed my thighs from the knee, working upwards towards my hips. She placed a hand on my shoulder and invited me to lay back down while she worked. She did this for a few moments and then as I gazed at the ceiling, I saw her face come into my perspective.

She looked me in the eyes and then I felt the tips of her fingers clutch the tip of my cock. Her eyebrow raised and her head titled to the side slightly. I nodded "yes" gratefully.

She ran a hand down my arm and with her oily fingers, drew my hand up in hers. She then placed my hand on one of her breasts. I gave it a squeeze and felt her erect little nipple in my palm. Her other hand hooked one of the sides of my underwear and I felt her tug it awkwardly downwards. With my hand securely on her breast she leaned forward and assisted with her other hand to free my hardening cock from it's tight little prison.

My dick lazily surveyed the room as it was finally freed from it's cotton restriction. Half erect and progressively hardening, it slowly rotated above me like a periscope as she pulled my underwear down right below my balls. "So big," she whispered with her thick accent.

She disappeared above me to apply a copious amount of oil to her hands before she returned and applied it to my shaft and the head of my cock. Her fingers felt incredible and my heart started to pound hard, filling the rest of my penis with blood.

"Ahhh!" She asserted, feeling me grow quickly in her hands. Her initial strokes along the shaft of my cock were soft and skillful. She used the lightest touch, spreading the soft, warm oil all across my penis and over my scrotum. She used both hands and a twisting motion to get me started but for the first few minutes, focused on ball work and upward strokes as if she was pushing more and more blood into my extremity.

Those first strokes were heavenly, but it was what she did next that drew my obsession. Once I had reached peak erection, she held the shaft of my cock with one hand and instead of pulling back my foreskin to expose my glands, she pushed her thumb, index and middle finger down under the foreskin to make contact with the glans without exposing them. She gently twisted her three fingers across the head of my cock producing heat and pleasure both from her finger tips against my glans and her finger nails across the inside of my foreskin.

I moaned with pleasure. "Yes", I said out loud. She withdrew her fingers from my foreskin and placed her index finger against her lips. "Shhhh," she quietly whispered. I pursed my lips, shrugged my shoulders and glanced guiltily at the door. She giggled.

I threw my head back as her hands returned to my cock and closed my eyes to enjoy the sensations. She stopped touching me for a moment to walk around to the head of the bed where she kicked over a small step stool from behind the table. She stepped up onto it and lowered herself on top of me, grabbing my cock anew from right above me. I opened my eyes to reveal her pendulous breasts hanging just a few millimeters from my chest. I reached up over my head with my hands to grab and fondle her ass while I stared hopelessly into the underside of her tits.

She pulled my foreskin back completely now and began to focus her attention on the head of my cock. Her soft, oily fingers danced across my glans and her greasy index finger made constant contact with my frenulum. She worked both hands in concert in a masterful display of skill and coordination. I was perfectly turgid now so each artful stroke across my cock was absolute pleasure.

I pulled my hands off of her firm ass for a moment and decided to go for it and fumble with her pants. The button came undone with some effort, but the zipper was unforgiving. I struggled to pull it down but it wouldn't budge. She noticed my fumbling and let go of my cock to see what the commotion was about.

She stood above my head on the stool, her pussy just a few centimeters from the top of my head. I looked up at her. The bottom of her meaty tits obscured her face. She stood there for a moment, not moving. Then, when she finally did move, her hands went to her zipper and she deftly tugged them down, exposing her white cotton panties. She stepped down off of the stool to step out of her pant legs but then stepped right back up to expose her underwear to me.

I grabbed her juicy ass and tilted my head back to bury my nose, upside down, into her panty covered crotch. I inhaled deeply and smelled her moistening womanhood. No matter how many times I experience it, I'll never get tired of that smell. Every woman different, every smell just as arousing.

She leaned forward again and continued her important work on my cock. This time I noticed some of the oil had been lost. Probably smeared onto the zipper area of her pants. Her strokes across my cock were hotter now, more sensitive across the delicate skin of my cock-head. If she continued like this, I wouldn't be able to contain myself.

Keeping herself up in this position was also becoming a strain on her. I slid my hands down from her ass to the backs of her knees and pulled them up and towards me as if to tell her to climb onto the bed. She obeyed.

As she climbed up onto the bed her knees straddled my ears and I got to stare directly up between her thighs. The smell of her vagina filled my senses. I returned my hands to her ass and I allowed my fingers to tickle the insides of her thighs. I used my thumbs to pull her ass cheeks open wide, so I could see her labia peek out from behind her underwear. This was all becoming a bit too much. I spread my legs open wide to give her more access to my balls and my taint, but also to increase the blood flow to my groin.

"Sloooow, sloow...", I pleaded. I threw my hand down to hers and held them for a moment, her last stroke almost sending me over the edge. A large drop of precum had been making it's way up my cock and finally burst out the mouth of my dick.

She wriggled her hand free and continued without abating. I'd probably bought myself an extra 10 seconds. I felt her hand stroke upwards, gathering the precum and incorporating it into her already slippery fist. The increased slickness doubled my pleasure. I stared desperately into her underwear and gripped her ass hard.

Sensing my approaching arrival, she pulled my foreskin back tightly and held it back at the base. With her other hand, she twisted and stroked firmly around the corona of the glans. "Oh shit" I thought. My penis was pointing directly at her face. I wanted to warn her, but what could I do? She essentially had me pinned.

I breathed out sharply. The orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt the heat in my lips and my face. My scrotum contracted and for a moment, it felt like I was shot out of a cannon - I'd reached the apex of my trajectory and I hadn't started falling yet. Her fast, hard strokes had fallen totally silent. Orgasm deafened the ringing in my ears. The noise outside faded to darkness. A perfect moment of unblemished pleasure.

The first ejection of white hot heat. The load barreled up my urethra and out the tip, scratching every itch I'd ever had on it's way out. Her body flinched. Probably from catching most of that load on the cheek. Still, her strokes continued.

My hips contracted and then shot forward, propelling a second, larger load at my target. Her body flinched again. This one wasn't a shot, it was a lengthy squirt, draining me from ball to bottom. I squeezed my thumbs apart and stared at her beautiful labia, looking for the bright red of her glorious flower.

Her twisting strokes became sharp upward pulls, jamming her thumb and index finger just under the head, as if she was milking the jizm out of the base of my shaft.

Another payload flew out of my cock as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I smelled deeply at her crotch one more time and my hands gripped her ass as if my life depended on it.

Her strokes began to slow and as my ejaculation concluded, one last ivory teardrop made it's way out the tip of my dick, down the shaft, and onto her knuckles.

She sat up and back, burying my lucky face into her crotch and ass, then she shimmied backwards and carefully stepped down from the massage table onto the stool. After she'd completely climbed down she wiped her hands with tissues from the table.

I looked up at her. Upside down in the dim lamplight we locked eyes. Her face was covered in cum. A large drop stuck defiantly to her cheek, glistening down from her forehead. Another splash on her opposite cheek dripped, and a third load stuck like a web over her lips. She reached for more tissue, wiping and dabbing at her face.

She returned to the massage table to finish the massage, her hands on my temples, starting a brief head massage. My erection bobbed it's head, exhausted and slowly dying.

After a day's worth of jet lag, a big, glorious meal, and a white hot orgasm at the hands of a consummate professional, I was done. I passed out instantly in her hands.