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3pm on Last day
I am visiting Thailand for a business and today is my last day. I woke up early to visit the elephant sanctuary located outside the city. I had fun bathing the elephants. It is a 90 minute drive from my hotel to the sanctuary. We left at 8am and are back at the hotel at 3pm. I am tired. I have another meeting at 6pm and my colleagues to have planned to go for drinks afterwards. It’s been a week in Thailand and I am yet to experience the most-talked about thing in this country. So I am trying to squeeze in the massage before my meeting.
I have not had a massage with perks anywhere, even outside of Thailand. Being the stickler that I am, I read up on the best practices and etiquettes. I am only going to get one-shot at it before I leave, so might as well get it right.
Googling reveals a lot of blogs about erotic massages in Chiang Mai. They are chockfull of recommendations and tips. It seems Loi Kroh Road is the most popular location. The hectic work schedule for the past week meant that I had no chance to clean the pipes. The pressure is has now reached an uncontrollable level.
I take a shower and head out from the hotel. I make a quick stop at the ATM to withdraw cash. Google Maps shows a 15 min songthaew commute to the infamous road. Even if I opted-in for a 1-hour massage, I can easily make it in-time for the meeting at 6. I hail a red songthaew and off I go.
My co-passengers are local monks and a couple of ladies from New York. The ladies look like they are in their mid-40’s. We talk about the US elections. Bad traffic has a tendency to show up at inappropriate times and this happens to be one of those times. The driver makes some out of the way stops for the monks. The ladies are complaining about the delay. But they don’t dwell on it.
Time flies when you are having an interesting conversation. I wasn’t paying attention to time. As the songthaew was slowing down, I realized that it might be my stop. I glance at my watch — FUCK!
I want to go but its too late. I am pissed! Thoughts are racing. Should I make an excuse and skip the meeting? Would that look unprofessional? Should I skip drinks? Awkwardness at workplace afterwards? I am in a dilemma. Being under-pressure sometimes brings the best decisions forward. What if…?
What if I skipped drinks? Thats the best plan I have right now. With some time to kill before the meeting, I decide to test the waters…
I jog my memory to recollect the insightful tidbits from the online blogs. I create a mental checklist. And jumpstart my journey to the massage mecca of Loi Kroh Road!
Time to focus and observe, I start walking on the left side of the road because I don’t know any better. After a couple of mins, I start seeing the massage signboards on the opposite side. I hide my frustration. “Being on the other side allows me to be discreet,” I consoled myself. But the girls standing outside the massage parlors didn’t care about the distance. If you made eye contact, they would shout — “MASSAGE, MASSAGE!”
I look at the first place and run through my new shiny mental checklist —
Are the lights outside shiny?
Are there curtains outside the place?
Are the girls outside the parlor wearing revealing clothes?
Are the customers inside the parlor all in plain-sight?
Are the girls young?
“Walk, Observe, Note, Repeat” is the mantra. I walk at snail’s pace and cross off items on the checklist. I don’t know how long to keep going. I set up a timer to keep track of time and reach to the meeting’s location in time. I notice a couple of places which might fit the bill but I need a closer look…
I stroll to the end of the lane. The massage places are dwindling in numbers. I treat that as a U-turn indicator. I pull my phone out to look less suspicious when checking out the places. And put on a spontaneous performance.
Spotted! Sliding doors with curtains on one of the shops. The curtains seem to be hiding something. I keep walking. A couple of places have beautiful oriental girls standing outside. The transparent glass doors contradict bahis firmaları my assumptions.
My eyes are locked in on this super-hot girl from the place next door. I see curtains and shiny lights. My short-list has 2 places on it. I head back in peace knowing that I have at least two options to choose from. But if my terrible luck in the past was any indicator…
I reach in-time for the meeting and get distracted by small-talk. I forget the day’s events. The meeting lasts for a couple of hours. After the meeting is over, we decide to hang out at a nearby bar.
Looking at the sexy women at the bar, my mind relaxes. The cloud of amnesia subsides. Sun shines again and brings my horny thoughts into light. Time is slipping by.
I am coerced by my co-workers to hang back. I don’t want to be rude to them. I hide my disappointment and don’t move. But something gives away my real intentions.
“We are fucking with you, its fine if you have made other plans,” they say in a chorus.
I jump on this ray of hope, give everyone a hug and get ready to roll.
“But we want to know what you are doing tonight,” they proclaim.
“I am tired, want to relax with a foot massage and call it a night,” I lie to them.
After a short delay, I hear somebody from a distance. And it takes the wind out of me. It is one of my co-workers.
She asks, “Hey, I was also planning to go for a massage too. Can I join you?”
I am trying to think of ideas to ward her off. I make up a story on-the-spot.
“I was actually kidding. I woke up early to visit the elephant sanctuary. The total trip was 7 hours in the grueling sun. My real plan is to head to the hotel and go to bed. I did not want to sound so uncool. Can we keep this between us?”
“You got it, dude,” she winks and heads back toward the bar.
That was a close call, elephants come to the rescue! Excited and nervous, I head toward my destination.
Second pass on the same task always feels easier. I have no trouble locating the short-listed place. I notice the girl outside the parlor and feel lucky.
She is the same girl from before and has a massage rate card in her hand. I walk up to her and ask her about the massage rates. While she is showing me the rate card, I check her out. She is wearing a translucent white t-shirt. I can clearly see a tight black-colored padded bra underneath. It leaves very little to the imagination. Her hair is silky, long and well-kept. Her eyes are black and are shining under the light of the yellow bulbs. She entices me to step-in to the parlor.
“What massage?” she asks in a flirtatious voice.
“Oil,” I jumped on the answer.
“Oil massage?” she confirms in her now tender voice.
I look her in the eyes and I say, “Yes.”
“Could I take a look inside?” I asked politely.
[she slides the door open]
“Come in,” she says.
I glance around and my brain is trying to process as much information as possible. It is trying to analyze and qualify this place. The beds are set in columns one after the other. There are curtains separating the beds. This arrangement reassures my assumption. But one final item on the checklist remained unanswered.
“Who’s going to do the massage?” I ask with an air of curiosity.
“I am,” she states.
She shows me to the bed and closes the curtains around the bed on both sides. Her instructions are loud and clear, “Take off everything. I come back in 2 minutes.” I can only nod as words have failed me.
I follow her instructions and take off everything. I am chubbed up. Red towels are placed on top of the bedsheets. There is no side-table or drawer to put the pants on. She slides the curtains and steps in. I look at her and ask, “Where should I put the pants?”
She extends her hand forward and offers to take care of my pants. While I am giving the pants to her, the small towel hiding my privates slides over and falls off. She sees me completely naked. She does not finch one bit. No reaction is also a reaction. It confirms that I am in for a show tonight.
She kaçak iddaa jumps up and hangs my pants on one of the wall hooks. She sits cross-legged on the bed with her butt on her toes. She takes some oil from the bottle and rubs it on her hands. She slides her hands underneath the towel with a free flowing stroke. Her hands go past my inner thighs and land in-between my butt cheeks.
“OK?” she asks acting innocent.
She massages my legs and butt cheeks. She caresses my inner thighs and has her hand all the way up to my balls. She teases me by grabbing my balls. I breathe harder. I try to gradually slow down my breathing. She lets me loose for a couple of minutes by focusing on my hands. I relax for a little while and my breathing returns to normal.
She starts teasing me again and my penis is hard as a rock. I can feel the semen building up underneath like lava rising inside a volcano. She is relentless and I can feel the hot lava rising.
Her sensual touch. The friction against the rough towel. All this add up and make my dormant volcano tremble. I cannot control it anymore. My penis erupts and discharges semen all over the red towel. It continues ejecting semen like a pump. She does not even mention or acknowledge that I have ejaculated.
“Can I get some tissues?” I ask embarrassingly.
She goes out and hands me the box of tissues.
“Could you give me a moment?” I hesitantly ask.
Her eyebrows curl up and she blurts, “What?”
“Could you go outside for a minute?” I ask, repeating the question slowly.
“Go outside?” she confirms.
20 mins into the massage, I have ejaculated. Such an anti-climax. There is no coming back from this. There is so much semen that I have to use 5-6 tissues to clean everything up. I pile up the tissues and wrap it all up in a clean one. And then I wait…
I hear her giggling and talking in Thai with the other masseuses. In moments like these, you think the entire world revolves around you. You also think that everybody has only one job. And that job is to embarrass the shit out of you. I assume that I am the topic of their discussion and they are having a good laugh at my expense.
I don’t know if she is going to resume the massage. But I am confident that the volcano has a lot more lava left. She comes back and starts the massage again as if nothing had ever happened. I felt relaxed as I was already past the hard part.
“Could you please turn over?” she requested.
When massaging, she would lift the small towel off my penis. She would use it to wipe off the excess oil off my leg, flip it and then put it back on my penis.
While keeping it back, she gave my penis a quick look.
She giggled in her broken English, “You, UP.”
I blushed and complemented her, “You look HOT.”
She stared at me with a blank face.
I gathered that she did not understand. “You look cute,” I tried again.
She repeated this wiping procedure a couple of times and then set the towel aside. She started with long strokes up my thighs and around my balls. I was so turned on. OH FUCK! She was so good with her fingers and knew exactly when and where to stop, apply pressure and slow down. By the time she finished doing both my thighs, my cock was hard again.
She did not waste any further time. She popped the all important question I had been waiting for all my evening.
“You want a special?” she asked with a naughty smile.
“YES,” I replied before she had finished her question.
She took my penis in her hand like a samurai unsheathing his sword and pulled my foreskin back in an instant. And started pulling it back and forth. She was doing it too fast. I requested her to slow it down. And after 2-3 minutes, she was loosing interest. I was losing my hard-on.
Gathering a little bit of inspiration from porn movies, I asked her, “Would you be willing to try something extra?”
She furled her eyebrows as if she wanted to know more.
“Can you take your top off?” I gambled, not knowing what was appropriate.
She replied with a price, “1000 Baht.”
“How kaçak bahis about 800 Baht?” I tried to negotiate.
But her negotiating tactic was far more convincing.
Her negotiating tactic involved grabbing my balls, squeezing them and seducing me into paying her requested price. I was trying to be as reasonable as I can be under the circumstances.
“How about 850 Baht?” I asked.
She did not answer.
She put some more oil and started stroking my cock. It was hard to come up with any defense against her attacking strategy.
“900 Baht?” I asked in my final attempt, with my resistance faltering. At this point I was not going to take no for an answer. All I could see was her. All I wanted to do was to desperately touch and feel the goodies underneath that bra. She agreed and asked for cash upfront.
I got up from the bed naked and handed her the cash from my wallet. Laying back on the bed, I put my hands on her top. And pressed her boobs firmly. Then I moved my hands up from her waist and started to pull off her top. I could see her flat white belly. I moved my hands over her bare smooth skin.
“Too cold,” she giggled. I put my hands to her side. And pulled the tight top off to reveal her sexy black bra. I moved my hands up from the bra to her boobs. She had amazing breasts. My hands find their way towards her slender neck. I softly place my hands behind her ears. They are getting a feel of the soft skin behind her hair.
The bra hook was holding me back from my treasure. I reach back to remove the hook.
“No remove,” she requested.
“No remove bra, owner place not like,” she laid out the facts for me.
“I thought we agreed that you would let me touch your breasts.”
“Yeah! Touching ok but no open bra.”
“Fuck the owner, I don’t give a shit,” I thought to myself.
I wanted her. I wanted her really badly. I really did. But I respected her guidelines.
Sometimes when you hit a wall, you got to try harder. I placed my hand on her right shoulder and start pulling the bra strap down. She does not say anything but gives me a look which screams LOOPHOLE.
After the right one is down, I pull the left strap down enough to loosen the bra. With my hands acting like an ice-cream scoop, I scoop out her perfect round tits from the bra. Her nipples are light-brown colored, hard and sensitive. They invited me to suck them. I see stretch marks on her right breast. The marks are imperfect and beautiful. I place my lips on her stretch mark and give it a soft kiss. I glide my lips further down and unto her nipples. My tongue is making rounds around her nipples. Her nipples are hard enough to cut my tongue. She makes a noise.
I look at her and she is turned on. I use my other free hand to play with her nipple. I pinch and grope her breasts. She is now back in action and starts playing with my penis. I start to play with her breasts. My flag is now hoisting and blowing with pride.
My lips are going up and down, tongue is going around in circles. My hands are moving all over her body and she is jerking my penis with a vengeance. The action intensifies and my skin is starting to turn red. Heavy breathing is back. She starts moaning. Precum is draining from my penis again and it’s getting harder every second.
All the energy in my body is flowing into that little jewel between my legs. I hold her tighter. Her boobs are touching my chest, my hands are on her tight pants. My mouth is between the twin peaks of her breasts.
She starts jerking my cock. My body starts shaking. Her anaconda grip on my cock is now getting tighter. She has complete control over my cock. Her hand motion has gotten crazy fast. My entire body freezes. And with one final grunt, I ejaculate all over her hands. Depleted of all energy, my hands relax and I rest my face on her breasts. I climax like a boss.
She wipes her hand and leaves me with this pleasant feeling. She pulls back her bra straps, puts her top on and waits outside. I get back into my clothes and head to the door.
She is already leading her next customer to a new bed. We cross paths and she smiles. She escorts the new guy to the bed. She comes back at the door and waives me goodbye. Already on the streets, I waive back. My mind is on seventh heaven and I leave with a happy feeling. Or should I say — HAPPY ENDING!