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Random Thoughts While Getting A Massage

  • Written by Professor
  • August 13th, 2013
  • 10 min read



Getting a hot stone massage in Ho Chi Minh City, with a girl half my weight (and a third my age) contorting my body into positions a westerner was never designed to be put into…the mind wanders.

1- The first massage I remember getting was in Canada, Vancouver, of all places, by a heavy set western woman who didn’t go anywhere near my sensitive areas and required me to wear what seemed like iron clad shorts the entire time, with fluorescent lights on at full power during the entire experience. Not a good start. Followed by a massage by an even bigger woman in a game park in South Africa, in our room with my wife looking on. Nothing happy about either ending.

2- In-room massages in decent hotels are invariably disappointing. I remember once in the JW Marriott in Shanghai calling reception to have a massage in my room. Do you want a woman or a man, they asked. A woman. Old or young? Young. So a young women appeared, gave me a massage and left. Quite disappointing.

3- For example, I arrived at the Four Seasons Shanghai 9 PM one Saturday night after a bone jarring 2-hour drive from Hangzhou during which I kept my eyes firmly closed the entire ride because I was scared shitless of the way the driver was going. The only thing that kept me sane was thinking of the massage I would get at the hotel, which turned out to be given by a man. They claimed that hotels in China are required, by law, to offer male for men and female for women masseuses when the massage is given in the hotel spa.

4- On the other hand, massage parlours in less than 1st class hotels can sometimes be fun. In the best hotel in Hue, Vietnam, maybe 10 years ago, there was a dodgy parlour in the basement. I entered the cubicle, the woman asked me to strip and she stood there waiting. I looked around for the towel and, finding none, figured what the hell, and dropped trou. 30 minutes later she had me in hand, so to speak, when I heard my wife’s voice booming through the corridor saying that she was going shopping. The masseuse stopped mid stroke, waited for my wife to leave, and finished the job.

5- But thinking of blokes giving massages, it’s very common in Sri Lanka where I was done by men three times, two of whom were blind. I didn’t care for either (a bloke massaging me, or a blind person).

6- What was especially creepy was the bloke who massaged me in Kandy, the old inland capital of Ceylon. It was an ayurvedic massage, the very word to this day makes me run for the hills. I was completely naked during the entire massage, while this bloke came very close, too close, to my sensitive area. Completely naked, mind you, with the only thought in my head the entire time being the mantra “don’t get hard, don’t get hard”. The worst, before the nightmare was over, was when he finished the massage, and asked me to stand up while he knelt down in front of me with a towel to get the oil off my legs; his head being uncomfortably close to where it shouldn’t have been.

7- But that’s nothing compared to a mate of mine who was rather drunk one night coming back to his hotel from Nana Plaza and stepped into a massage parlour around 2 AM. He rather drunkenly lay down on the table, the lights were dim, and he passed out before the masseuse came in. He remembers being asked to turn over halfway thru, which he did, and he also remembers a rather splendid blow job, during which he drifted in and out of consciousness. When all was finished, the lights went on and he was quite disturbed to see that the massage (and the bj) had been administered by a bloke. Not a lady boy, mind you, a bloke, no ifs ands or buts about it. I asked my mate what he did and he said, rather embarrassingly, I tipped him and went to my hotel. What else could I do?

8- I’ve only had a few massages in India, at 5-star hotel spas by rather prim looking women. I was at one hotel the day before Bill Clinton was to check in, and I asked the masseuse if she wanted to give Clinton a massage. Of course, was the response. And would you give him something extra, I asked? I hear he likes that sort of thing. She blushed and giggled and I never got an answer.

9- I hate getting a massage in cubicles where you can hear what goes on next door. I was getting one in Phuket, and the man getting the massage just a few centimeters away from me (a thin curtain separating us) was very obviously and loudly enjoying himself. Finally my girl had to stop massaging me so we could both listen to the grand finale.

10- The only time I ever walked out of a massage was in Phnom Penh. During a massage I often let my mind drift and I like things to be quiet. My masseuse was chattering non-stop and quite loudly to the masseuse in the next cubicle, who was only grunting in reply. Finally after 15 minutes I could stand it no longer and asked her to be quiet. She was, for about a minute, and then started up again even louder than before. I got up, got dressed, and left, with a few choice words to the girl at the front desk, and did not pay.

11- In Phnom Penh, the best place for a massage is the Phnom Penh Hotel (but be careful, Thaksin often stays there and when he does security is tight). The PPH has a great steam room, plunge pools of varying degrees of water temperatures, and excellent massages. If you want a happy ending you can ask for a Chinese or Vietnamese girl, but I always go for the Cambodian girls who give a massage not unlike a traditional Thai massage (no oil and a lot of twisting). The problem is, unlike in Thailand, at the PPH they don’t give you shorts to wear for this type of massage, so one’s goodies keep flopping out of the towel. Once, after the fourth time I had to tuck them back in, I apologized to the masseuse, who said to me, do you know how many of those I see every day? They’re not that interesting to look at, you know.

12- In Vietnam, there are often very sexily clad girls at street level trying to get you to come in for a massage. However, I have found that these places rarely offer extras and require you to wear shorts during the entire event, even if it is an oil massage. However, I do remember one massage parlour where the girl offered oral relief but at a ridiculously high price. When I demurred, she offered that, for the same price, she would bring her girlfriend in and they would both service me. Buy one, get one free, so to speak.

13- In Vietnam, if you want action, I am told that you need to go to massage parlours on high floors, not at street level. But my understanding is that it is all very official, and you have to fill out a form and write down the amount of tip you are giving before anything out of the ordinary occurs.

14- In Myanmar massage parlours are difficult to find outside of the major hotels. I finally found one where you lie down fully clothed on a table, and they massage your back and legs through your street clothes. Not recommended.

15- But what is utterly amazing is a head and shoulder massage with shampoo that a Myanmar friend takes me to every time I go to Yangon. It is two flights up a decrepit staircase and only locals go there. You take off your shirt and lie down on a table which is just centimeters away from the next table. In total maybe 20 tables in the room. You get the most amazing head massage and then a 30 minute shampoo and ear cleaning. Meanwhile the most weird Myanmar country music is playing, kids are running around, the girls chatter non-stop (in a Chinese dialect that is not Burmese), there is a karaoke next door and the lights continually flicker on and off due to power cuts. I love it and insist on going every time.

16- There are four massage parlours near where I stay in Phuket, which I have graded on a four stage scale. The first is serious, where all the ladies have been trained and their diplomas are on the wall. Best massages I have had in Thailand and I must have had at least 50 in that one place over the years. The second place will sometimes yield a hand job, sometimes not, the third might get you a bj while in the fourth “full service” is usually on offer.

17- Speaking of the first place, they are very discrete and wrap the towel tightly around the groin so there is no mistaking what will or will not happen. In the years I have been going there there has never been a shred of indecency, which is why I sent my mate and his wife there late one afternoon, to get a massage together in one room. Afterward, my mate said to me, I thought that was a straight place. Yes, I responded. Well, he said, I came. You what? I came. I asked, with your wife lying next to you? Yes, he said a bit sheepishly. Did the masseuse touch you? I asked. Actually not, he said, but when she came close I kind of, well, you know. You’re disgusting, I said.

18- When you go to a new place, how do you know whether specials are offered or not? I find there are two clues. First, when the towel disappears rather quickly. A real massage is done with towel firmly in place, not lying in a heap on the floor. The second indication is when the girl asks your name or Where you from? A real masseuse is quiet the entire time, and isn’t interesting in your personal details. When the towel goes and you are asked to flip over exposing all your glory it’s a sure sign that something is about to happen that’s not on the original playbill.

19- But I get confused sometimes when the towel stays on but only loosely, and as the girl massages your thighs she bumps into you now and then. Is she teasing? Is she offering? If you ask will she be insulted? Ah the dilemmas of modern life.

20- The best money I ever spent was the 6000 baht I gave a girl I knew to take the course at Wat Po. She wanted the massage diploma but had no intention of ever working as a masseuse, which she thought was disgusting work and didn’t want to jack off every Tom, Dick and Jack that strolled in. But she was very happy to massage me, the guy who paid for her license. She would take off all her clothes, turn the TV to a game show, and angle my body so that she could watch the TV while she massaged me (I didn’t mind as it kept her from getting bored).

There is nothing better in this world than getting a massage in your room by a naked girl, and I am convinced that the globe would be a much happier place if our world leaders would have this done to them on a regular basis.

Take care,

Professor



Stickman 's thoughts:

Great anecdotes!



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