I am very happy. Indeed, I still grow hard as my wife of 15 years walks around in the buff or puts her thigh over mine in the predawn light. She’s told me many times that its pheromones, but I know its more. No children, we agreed early on that career, our relationship and children would force us to give a priority to each. It was not a compromise that we were willing to make. We’ve seen relationship after relationship fall away as soon as the children leave the nest, the glue. Like a house that has not been lived in for many years, some relationships can’t be fixed, just gutted or torn down. I trust her and she me, over the years we’ve grown together and always treat each other with love and respect.
I’m getting older, aches and pains in my shoulders and back bring groans as I stand or bend to pick something up. My attitude has always been to grin and bear the discomfort and pain brought with age, and hers has always been to find solutions. In our time together my wife has always enjoyed a regular massage and I’ve lost count of the number times that she’d tell me to do the same. This time she didn’t ask, she just booked it. We have moved a lot in our time together and had recently settled into a new city, so she didn’t yet have regular masseuse. On the recommendation of a friend, she choose an older Chinese woman to come out to our house and she didn’t tell me until few hours before, so I couldn’t back out.
Jen, showed up at seven and I helped her carry her portable massage table into the house. In her early 50’s, plump and barely 5 feet tall, her stern appearance and halting english, contrasted a confidence and very matter-of-fact manor. After she set up in the guest bedroom, my wife went in for her hour and half massage. During which I sat and watched TV, a bit nervous. I’ve never had a massage, and was uncomfortable with the thought.
“Your turn”
my wife said, as she walked into the room,
“Its very deep massage, I had tell her go easy a few times”.
Jen was busy as I walked into the room re-organizing and setting up the pillow and towels, not even looking up. I took off my shirt and stood there for moment, unsure, Jen glanced up
“off”
with a slight motion of her hand before going into the bathroom to wash her hands. I stripped down to my boxers and sat on the bed. Coming out of bathroom, she gave me scowl and again said
“off!”
then
“you here”
patting the table and turning around to do a few more things. Gee, here I am over 50, I’ve worked many high pressure jobs and my knees are shaking slightly as I slip off my boxers and climb on to the table face down.
Expecting to her cover me with a towel, she didn’t and instead began working the oil into may back with deep long strokes. Fingers, thumbs, forearms and elbows, it was hard for me to tell what she was doing as she found every fiber in every muscle and squeezed each like so many tubes of toothpaste. When I’d tense up slightly with pain, she would immediately change what or how she was doing and the pain would stop. The initial discomfort I had as Jen worked on my bum and legs, quickly disappeared as she found every knot in very muscle. She then took a small towel and wiped the excess oil.
“over”
No emotion in her voice. I pause, waiting for her to cover me, she didn’t.
“over”
She says again, giving my bottom and impish slap.
I roll onto my back, still expecting her to cover me. She didn’t. I felt exposed and somehow vulnerable as I lay there. After a second, I instinctively, I covered myself with my hand.
deep sigh “American”
she said as she pulled my hand to the side and covered me a with a towel.
“we’re all the same”
“like doctor, don’t care, just help you”
then she places small towel over my eyes.
Again, I relax as she works my shoulders and arms. Tracing the “energy” paths on my skin with her finger while saying something in chinese or “blocked” and “good.”
“you have chinese massage before?”
“no”
I answer, quietly
“ok to sleep”
she responds.
Massaging my with legs with heal of her hands, she pushed to the top of my thighs, before running the same line again, except this time with her fingers or forearms. With each stroke, I could feel the towel being pushed up until it was just covering my belly. Using one my hands I took the hand towel off of my eyes. I see that Jen had clearly worked up a sweat, taking zero notice of my junk hanging out. She notices me,
“ok?, hurt?”
“No”
I say, with a nervous smile, laying my head back.
She bends my right leg at the knee and massages the inside of my thigh, going very top of my leg. Using her thumb, Jen massaged the top of my thigh while using her other hand to hold my balls and cock out of the way. Feeling her warm hand, instantly I get hard. She takes no notice as she continued to massage the inside of my thigh. She removed her hand, puts my right leg down, bends my left leg at the knee and starts working on it. I pull the towel down over my boner while looking down at Jen.
“Normal”
flashing just a hint of a smile as she said it.
Working my left leg, again she is very though. Holding my balls and the base of my now throbbing cock in one hand while working the inside of my left thigh with her other hand, I’m am totally and completely lost in the moment. As she finishes my left leg. I hear
“Precum”
as she takes the towel off me and cleans her hands, my belly and cock, before setting it off to the side. As she massaged my chest and stomach, she would hold my hard cock off to side as needed even massaging my pubic bone. At one point Jen wrapped her soft hand around my cock as she traced out the paths for my “sex” energy with her finger. I thought I was going to explode right there! Before letting go and mentioning something about the rain that had just started, again.
Finishing with my scalp, she leaned over and gave me a little kiss on the forehead and whispered
“done”
Afterwards, I ask my wife about her massage. She told me about how she learned about her energy, the awkward, the inside of the thighs, pubic bone and breast parts. I told her about mine. She smiled and giggled when I told her about me trying to hide my boner and Jen’s almost clinical indifference to my embarrassment.
“I’m glad you enjoyed your massage! You’ll have to get more.”
My wife said “but, no more from Jen!”
The next day I was sore! The lymph nodes under my arms were tender and swollen and my muscles felt like I had just climbed a mountain and for the week following, I felt like a different person.
We’ve since moved and are no longer in the country where this happened, but rarely a week passes where I have not thought about that day. I have had at least a dozen massages in the two years since then, some fairly deep and others haphazard kneading. No one ever touching my bum and all always seeming to go to great lengths to preserve my modesty. None that ever made me feel sore the next day. Most of them felt mechanical, devoid of soul and I’d come away feeling as though I had imposed on the masseuse. I don’t get massages any more unless we are on vacation and even then, I feel like they are a waste of money but I do it for my wife.
This tiny, round middle-aged Chinese lady in Yangon inadvertently toppled walls that I didn’t know existed while giving me a massage that may never be matched. I’m in her debt, but also a bit angry and confused about what it means to be human. To be the same, but different.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticstories/comments/6pecq0/mild_but_true_first_massage