MJM10: Repost - American Massage Story

cc: This was first posted Oct 27, 2015

I resolved to experience my first American M2M massage. A friend referred me to massagem4m.com for a listing and for reviews. I chose this guy over the others because (a) his body was just right (b) I like his facial hair (c) he has 20+ reviews, all raving about him. I sent him SMS (yeah, international roaming). But up to that time I sent the message, I had to admit that I was unsure and apprehensive. What if he turns out to be a serial killer? Or at the very least, a thief? Or he doesn't even look half as good as his pics? A part of me was wishing he wouldn't reply.

But he did, after about an hour. He asked me to come over to his place. This wasn't unusual, based on that website. A lot of these masseurs use their private residences for "work". That explains the differential "in-calls" and "out-calls" rates for each of them. But for this guy, his "place" was actually the Hilton downtown. (mas soshal pa sa akin!) He is based in NY and just traveling, it turns out. We quickly finalized the day and time. In my head, a movie massacre scene was playing out.

I arrived 5 minutes late at the hotel lobby. Without asking how I looked, he simply messaged me to meet him at the elevator lobby. A few moments, the elevator opened and he peeped out to look for me.

He looked exactly as the photos on the site. One anxiety addressed. He looked like he came from the hotel gym in workout clothes. He was pleasant but not warm. He tried some chitchat. But methinks he was thrown off by this puny Asian client. The reviews mentioned how 'friendly and accommodating' he was. He was quite straightforward with me. "You can take off your clothes and put them on that chair. Then you can lie, facedown on the bed." I did as I was told.

As I was on my belly, I sensed that he took off all his clothes and knelt beside me. He quickly rubbed cold lotion on my back and began the massage. I asked for deep tissue massage but I didn't get it. His hands were light, his fingers doing most of the work (and that couldn't put too much pressure). I would get turned on feeling his thighs brush against mine. And from time to time, the limp cock would dangle over my butt. But it wasn't intentionally erotic.

After about 30 minutes, I was made to lie on my back as he worked my chest and arms. Again, even with my cock already facing him, there was no incidental brush against it. I would open my eyes to look at him. Yeah, he is hot, almost A&F-like. And he was within reach now. But I wasn't feeling intense desire.

He popped the question "Would you like a happy ending?"

"How much?"

"It's part of the package."

"Oh. Sure."

"Why? Do others charge extra for it?"

Initially, I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to give him ideas. "I don't know."

It turned out to be a straightforward kind of hand job. No frills, no nothing. When I was done, he pointed the way to the shower for me to 'clean up'.

This was release for the sake of it.

I gave him the payment and rushed out of there. We were done in under an hour. I may have lucked out in choosing the therapist. I am not about to generalize the ho-hum experience to all those masseurs on the site. This was a super-mediocre experience but will remain immortalized in the cc archives for being the first American masseur story. No, the second will not follow anytime soon.





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad