MASSAGE PLEASE

IMG_3070I was having some pretty intense pains in my shoulders one Saturday, so when I got off of work I decided to get a massage. I never get massages, so I don’t have a therapist. I didn’t have many options, and I was desperate, so I went to the little Asian massage parlor in the Kroger shopping center in town. I’d never been to one, but how bad could it be? And I was dying! I was thinking they had one of those chairs in the front that you could see through the glass window, so my plan was to get a chair massage, and they could work on my shoulders.
I enter the shop to find two Asian women standing behind a counter. Indeed, there were two massage chairs right in the front of the shop where you could easily see out into the parking lot. The older woman asked if I wanted massage, and I indicated to her that I wanted a chair massage. She spoke very little English, so we did a lot of nodding and pointing. I straddled the chair as she instructed, and leaned forward, putting my face into the padded hole. It felt good to just sit in that position. I pointed to my shoulders to let her know where the pain was. She nodded several times.
The massage therapist came over to me then with a brown paper towel, like the ones in public bathrooms that come out of the dispenser. She wrapped the paper towel around her hand and proceeded to clumsily rub my shoulders. The paper towel made the massage awkward because she couldn’t get a good grip on my shoulder. It was also making an irritating scratching sound as she attempted to squeeze and rub back and forth. I noticed her making sounds under her breath, like sighs and little grunts, indicating she was struggling and having a hard time. I looked up at her, feeling a little confused because I had no idea why she was using the damn towel in the first place.
Oh! So she could upsell me to a full massage! Very clever, Asian lady! She blew a piece of hair that had fallen into her face and shook her head back and forth, indicating, “This is not very good massage for you.” She asked me in broken English if I’d like a full massage and motioned to the rooms down the hall. I knew what their game was, and yes, I would like a full massage. Thanks!
She led me to the hall and the first room on the left was our destination. There was no door, just a large, red curtain. She led me inside and pointed at me, at a hook on the wall, and then at the massage table, and lastly said, “you can keep panties on.” Then she left. I was standing in the dimly lit room thinking, “Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is so weird, there’s only a curtain, holy shit, but it’s kind of funny too, hee hee.” I stripped off all my clothes except my panties, with one eyeball on the curtain the whole time. I hung everything up and scurried into the bed under the sheets, pulling them up to my chin. As I’m lying there, I glance over at where my purse lay on the floor next to the wall, and I imagine a little secret door silently opening up, and a hand reaching out and carefully grabbing my purse, then quickly and quietly closing the door. I then notice that my feet are directly facing the curtain. If someone came in, they would first see the bottoms of my feet. The curtain definitely made me uneasy. Especially since I was the first room right next to the front lobby where customers came in. I had a little talk with myself to quit being a pussy, that I’m sure this is very common and I’m just not used to it. I needed to chill out and enjoy myself.
My massage therapist finally came in and we gestured and one-worded our way to what I wanted her to do. Work on my shoulders and back. Yes. Yes. Just shoulders and back. Thank you. She instructed me to turn over onto my stomach and put my head in the face hole, and she pulled the white sheet down to the bottom of my back. Then she got to work. Wow could that woman rub, knead, dig and squeeze with those strong little hands and short fingers. She even used her elbow to loosen up those muscles. It did hurt, but not so much that I made her stop. I figured it’s what my muscles needed. Not very relaxing, but I wasn’t there to relax. When she finished with my back, she rolled the sheet down further, exposing my panties. With no warning, she took my underwear and yanked it down below my butt cheeks, revealing my entire ass. Then she crawled onto the table, and straddled my body, squatting like a frog. I can’t see what she’s doing, I can only feel and hear. I’m thinking, “Is she on top of me? She’s on the table. Ok. This is ok, I think I’ve seen this on tv.” Her arms reached up and she grabbed my shoulders, then she worked on my back some more. My eyes widened and I stiffened, my only thoughts being the red curtain thinly veiling my nakedness. Then I got tickled, and the thought of me laying there, bare ass was just too funny. I reassured myself that this is how the big city people got massages, this was the real deal. She hopped off the bed and focused on my butt. She rubbed my ass cheeks like she was making biscuits, not missing a single inch of skin.
She stopped after fifteen minutes or so and with wide eyes asked if I would like the bottom half done. “Yes? Yes?” she nodded up and down eagerly. “Only ten more dollar,” she said. Well, hell, I was already practically naked.
Now the leg work. I felt the sheet lightly graze my back as she slid it up towards my neck, revealing my legs and my bottom. I felt a sense of relief as she gently pulled my panties back down over my exposed rear end. All of a sudden, her fingers slid down the sides of my underwear and two fingers expertly yanked the sides up and in, giving me a gigantic wedgie! As an additional treat, she grabbed a leg in each hand, and picked them an inch of the table, and pulled one leg to the right and one to the left. She then laid them back down about two feet apart on the table. To say I was in shock is an understatement! I didn’t know what to do! I was frozen!
I hear a little chime that signaled someone had entered the front door. The younger woman was out front and I could hear her and a gentleman talking. He was asking about a massage. A few seconds later, I could hear the swoosh of the red curtain and the other employee speak to my lady. The view from the doorway was me laying on my stomach, my underwear crammed into the crack of my ass, legs spread apart exposing skin between my legs that only my husband and my gynecologist get to see. Of course, my masseuse stops what she’s doing with me, and goes over to the doorway to speak with the girl, and then leaves the room. Unbelievably, by this point I am over being scared as I have decided to just ride it out. What’s the worst that could happen? I’m in control, the little woman isn’t going to rape me, and if someone sees my wedgie, who cares? My face is in the donut hole at the front end of the table, so it’s an anonymous ass when you think about it. If I feel a finger go where it doesn’t belong, I will shut it all down and put my clothes back on. It’s as if I’m watching a comedy, and I just have to see how it ends!
Little Hands comes back into the room and gets back to work. She starts with my feet and works her way slowly up to my naked butt cheeks. Yep, she rubs the shit out of them. Only this time, she’s getting close to the area between my legs with her hitchhiking fingers. They’d stroke up, and my whole body would stiffen. They’d dive back down, only centimeters away from private property. Each downward motion she took, I would mentally prepare myself to hop up and throw out some kung-fu action in case she crossed the line. It was probably the longest three minutes, or five minutes, or I have no idea how long it actually was, in my life. But, she never touched anything she wasn’t supposed to, and I was not violated that day. Well, not too violated anyway lol.
She finished up and I saw her grab a towel and wipe her face. She was sweating like she had run a marathon. She left me to get dressed and I noticed my purse was still there where I left it. Good thing, cause that’s where my money was so I could pay her. I thought about how sweaty she was, and really, how hard she had worked. I bet she wasn’t five feet tall, and she had the smallest hands and fingers. But if I was blindfolded and didn’t know who my masseuse was, I’d swear it was a big, strong guy. The massage lasted an hour, and she had worked her ass off! If I did it again, I think I would enjoy it more, because I would know what to expect. I think I would tell her to not only leave my underwear on, but to not yank it up my ass crack either. Or maybe, I just wouldn’t wear underwear!

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