Massage Parlour Delights

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His mouth was dry and his pulse had quickened as he walked past the door for a second time. He had read about these places in magazines and decided to give one a try but now the actuality seemed rather different from what his imagination had led him to believe would happen.

Eventually his curiosity overcame his nerves and he pulled the front door open and walked into the foyer. A small window at the side contained the head of a rather attractive lady who smiled at him and said.

“How can I help?”

“Mmmm,” he stammered. “Er, um how much is it?”

“Sauna and a half hour massage is £20, you can spend as long as you like in the sauna. Have you been for a massage before?”

“No.” He managed to splutter and although he was no virgin he was very sexually inexperienced, but this was nineteen seventy five and the birth of he massage parlour, so he was hopeful.

“Well, I can get one of the girls to show you round if you like.”

He paid the £20 and a security door to the corridor buzzed open.

“Jacki, would you show the gentleman round please?” Jacki turned out to be a statuesque brunette, with improbably long legs only just covered by a rather too short mini skirt. Her high heels only added to the impression that her legs went on for ever and her breasts were desperately trying to escape their cotton prison.

“What’s your name?” she asked, and for some reason he felt he had to lie.

“Rob.” He said, almost without a pause.

“Well Rob, welcome,” she said throwing him a glorious smile. “Come with me.” Was that an accidental choice of phrase? He hoped not, he so hoped not. After a few paces she turned left into a sort of locker room.

“You can get undressed here. You’ll find a towel in your locker, then you can take a shower through there. The sauna is through here, ” she said leading the way forwards and indicating a cabin with a glass panel in the door that seemed to contain several men.

“You can spend as long as you like in there and when you’ve had enough just come through to the lounge and we’ll get you a massage. Have you got all that?” She asked with another winning smile.

He returned to the changing room and rather self consciously got undressed. He tok his towel, wrapped it securely round his waist and headed for the shower. It was dimly lit and in need of some TLC but at least it was clean. Showered, he headed for the sauna, opened the door and was surprised by the blast of heat that hit him in the face. Two guys in their forties looked up from their magazines, said “Hi” and went back to reading. Not being used to saunas, he sat on the lowest shelf and picked up a magazine.

The first one he grabbed was Men Only so, fearful of the effect it might have on him, changed it for another, this time Mayfair!

“My God,” he thought, “it’s all porn.” With that, one of the other men stood up and left, the effect of what he had been reading clearly visible under his towel.

“Off for my massage.” He announced.

Rob stayed in the sauna for as long as he could, trying not to let the magazines excite him too much, then left for a cooling shower before going in to the lounge. There was only the reception lady there, sat on a large settee in front of some banal game show on the TV.

“Alright Rob?” She asked, “All the girls are busy at the moment but you can have a cold drink while you wait, Coke or Fanta?” He settled for a Fanta and started to take stock.

Were these magazine articles right? All the signs were good. Good looking masseuses in skimpy outfits. Porn in the sauna. Yes it must be true. The other sign he had read to look out for was a box of Kleenex in the massage room. He hoped that it would be there and that he would not be too nervous to notice. The only other pressing question was how to establish if there were “extras” available. He assumed it would be offered if there were and the key phrase he had picked up was ‘hand relief’. What a delight to have a pretty young girl give you an oily hand job!

He heard footsteps in the corridor, the front door open and close and some muffled words. Jacki reappeared and sat down by the TV, shot him a glance and said,

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take you through for your massage”. He sipped his drink and as soon as he had finished Jacki stood up. “OK, ready now Rob?”

He followed her to the massage room which contained a massage table and a side table holding some oils and powders. He was looking for the kleenex when his heart sank, there was a sign on the table, ‘No sexual services’.

“Oh bugger,” he thought, “a wasted afternoon.” She told him to lie on his stomach, took his towel away and covered his bum with another then started work on his shoulders. The massage was lovely, very relaxing, but his disappointment was shattering. After ten minutes or so she moved her attention to his legs, first the ankles, then the calves and the the thighs. Slowly it became more erotic. Her hands massaged each thigh individually and as they reached the Bursa Escort crease of his bum, her fingertips just touched the hairs on his balls. Was this accidental? What about the sign?

Either way it was delicious and causing quite a stirring in his loins. She made him turn over, took her time adjusting the towel over his cock and started on his chest. With each forward stroke she finished near his neck and the view down her blouse was magnificent.

“Is this ok for you Rob?” She breathed, her breasts straining against the sheer white material. God this was torture, did she or didn’t she do extras?

“Fantastic,” he replied.

“Good we like our customers to be fully satisfied.” This just drove him over the edge, she must be leading him.

He took his courage in both hands and asked the question,

“Do you do any extras?” The next five seconds seemed like a life time before she answered and he almost wished he hadn’t when she replied.

” I can do hand relief for a £5 tip or topless for £10,” she said, sliding her hands up to his chest giving him another glimpse of the happy valley. Fucking hell! He had hoped for ‘hand relief’. A nice oily wank from a scantily clad, good looking girl was his top hope but now she was offering to take her top off as well. Bloody result!

He agreed to ‘tip’ £10 for topless and she slid out of her blouse. Her hands reached up behind her back and she unclasped her bra then carefully removed each arm from the straps holding the cups in position. Then she leaned forwards and let her breasts fall from their hiding place. Rob felt his cock twitch as she pulled away the towel and poured a generous hand full of massage oil into her palms, rubbed them together and started on his cock.

She massaged gently at first and staring into his eyes asked, “What do you think of my boobs then Rob, it’s ok to touch you know.” His hands reached up for her pendulous breasts, stroked the nipples with his palms which hardened to his touch.

“Well there’s no use pretending I don’t like that, is there?” She lifted his cock gently off his stomach and slid his foreskin back exposing the sensitive tip. By now he was fully erect as she started a very gentle circular motion with an oily finger on his glans. The other hand slipped under his balls and massaged them gently then one finger made its way purposefully down to his bum. She sensed that he was not far away and wrapped his whole cock in one hand and moved up and down, firmly and purposefully. His balls started to contract as she pulled the foreskin right back as far as it would go.

He could hold on no longer, the feeling started in his toes and shot up his inside leg. There was a violent contraction as he shot his first jet of cum into the air. She pulled forwards and backwards again exposing as much of the head of his cock as she could. His second contraction was even more powerful than the first and a jet of semen shot out, over his shoulder towards the wall behind. She held on to his pulsing cock, rubbing back and forth all the time until he was thoroughly spent.

He didn’t ever remember coming like that, that was new.

“I think you were ready for that,” she smiled as she took the box of tissues from behind the sign on the table and wiped his already softening cock clean of his cum.

“Very ready! Don’t leave it so long next time.”

A month or so later “Rob” was feeling the need of some more action. No girlfriend yet in sight and the memory of Jacki’s fabulous tits and his earth shattering orgasm were leading him back to Jenny’s Emporium or should he try somewhere new? Would the other saunas in the small ads offer the same services? Was it worth the risk? He decided no and set off for Jenny’s.

Much less nervous this time he went through the entry procedure and sat in the sauna, there were no magazines now and no other men in the sauna either. Seems strange he thought, anyway time for a massage. He hadn’t seen Jacki as he came in but made his way to the lounge, confident that she would appear. He was offered a drink as he sat down, accepted a coke and eyed the two girls on the low settee. One was a little plump for his taste but the other was a stunner, tits a little smaller than Jacki’s and legs a little shorter but he was already contemplating a bit of hand relief while he stroked her firm little tits.

Nobody seemed to be in any hurry and, with his new found confidence, managed to start a conversation.

“I notice there are no magazines this time,” he managed to splutter. The taller of the two, the one he quite fancied, sitting opposite him, opened her knees very slightly affording him a view straight down her short skirt to a pair of white cotton panties spread tightly across her crotch. This looked like a careless gesture and he wondered if it really was.

“The trouble is, men look at the magazines and by the time they get to the massage there is nothing left for us to do.” Was he hearing right? These guys were tossing off in the sauna Bursa Bayan before their massage?

“So we have had to make a few changes and getting rid of the mags was one of them. Are you ready for your massage now?”

He followed little miss white panties to the massage room, noticed all the familiar stuff and lay on the table the table face down. Little miss white panties asked,

“Oil or powder?” He queried the question and she replied that some men preferred a massage with talc rather than oil. He settled for oil and the now familiar process started, complete with the ‘accidental’ tickling of his balls.

He felt he knew the score now and when asked to turn over he asked straight out.

“Any extras?” She hardly faltered in her massage as she made sure his towel slid off onto the floor.

“I do hand relief £5, topless for £10 and full strip for £15.” He was definitely not expecting that. This leggy girl was offering to strip off, right down to those white cotton panties, then take them off so he could admire her glorious pussy from close quarters while she oiled up his cock and tossed him off. He might well get to feel her tits and maybe even her rather curvaceous bum. It wasn’t a hard decision.

“Full strip please.”

She stood facing him and smiled, undid her blouse to reveal a pretty lacy bra. She shrugged off the blouse and put it on the chair then she undid her skirt and put that to one side as well. Still standing facing him, in only her bra and those wonderful white cotton panties she unhooked her bra and put it with the rest.

“Nice? You like my tits?”

He managed to gulp a, “Yes quite beautiful.”

“Now for the best bit.” She said and turned away lowering her panties to the floor while smiling over her shoulder at him. He could see her magnificent bum and unexpectedly the crack of her pussy as well. His cock shot to attention and she turned round to reveal her all.

Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed and the crack of her pussy in full view. He nearly came.

“Well,” she said, “that’s the strip, now for the fun bit.” She moved to the side of the table and grazed her naked thigh against his arm that was hanging off the table and said.

” You better hang on for the ride.” His arm came up, caressing her buttocks and settled on her waist while his other started to massage a breast, not big but firm. She took a handful of oil and started to massage his cock and balls, pulling his foreskin back to reveal the sensitive tip.

“What a nice stiff cock,” she mewed. “I so like a really stiff cock. You like having it massaged like this don’t you? Eh? Having your cock massaged while you play with my tits and look at my nicely trimmed pussy? Let me open my legs a little. Is that good?” His eyes feasted on her cunt while she rubbed his cock firmly back and forth.

” Just imagine that cock of yours sliding in and out of my nice wet pussy.” Then she cupped his balls with one hand, pulled his foreskin back as far as it would go, rubbed his shaft up and down making sure to include the head of his cock. Seconds later it was all over and as he came in violent spasms, she giggled as she watched his cock twitch and jerk and his cum jet out.

“Well, who needed that then?” She said, with a cheeky grin, and cleaned him up with tissues.

Then there was a long gap in the massage parlour visits but by the mid nineties he was becoming something of an addict. It was the sheer lack of complication, no requirement for any effort, not that performance anxiety was likely to be a factor. At his age his cock sprang to attention at the slightest hint of sexual activity. No, it was the sheer indulgence of being pampered and taken to orgasm at exactly the pace he wanted.

He had had several disappointing encounters, sure he got his orgasm but sometimes with a distinct lack of finesse or enthusiasm and these were such a let down. It was then that he found himself in an unfamiliar city with a pressing need for sex. The newspaper small adds, his usual point of reference, had a boxed ad for ‘The Palms’ and it seemed to suggest they would offer what he needed.

The usual door routine was followed, a scantily clad, twenty something, called July, with a broad Glaswegian accent, showed him round and he felt he had picked the right place. In spite of the fact that she seemed to be the only one there, he felt that this was going to be a gourmet experience, no quick rushed hand job. He knew what he wanted, or at least he thought he did. His plan was to linger in the sauna, get well and truly fired up with the inevitable soft porn mags and then ask his masseuse to take it really slowly. That was the plan.

He stripped off, wrapped a towel round his waist and headed for the showers already becoming slightly tumescent with his erotic imagination. Dripping wet, he made for the sauna and sat on a lower level, as usual. There was only one other man in there and he wanted to chat! Judging by his accent he was from somewhere near Manchester.

“Bin Escort Bursa here before pal?” He asked.

“Er no.”

“Pity, I was wondering if they do ‘extras’ here. It looks like the sorta place that should do at least an oily hand job, if not an actual shag.”

It had never occurred to him that this thinly veiled cover for prostitution might actually be a brothel: surely not? Anyway a fuck was definitely not what he wanted. He just wanted to be pampered and, well let’s be honest, a really top class hand job.

“Sorry I can’t help, it’s my first visit.”

“Ah well, n’er mind. All will be revealed very soon.” And he stood up and left.

The sauna door closed behind Mr Manchester but he himself hadn’t had enough ‘warm up’ so he stayed, picked up a copy of Mayfair and turned to the True Confessions page. He knew they were all bollocks but they were well written, seriously erotic, bollocks. He also knew, from his personal collection, that there were usually three stories and he seldom finished the third without filling his hanky!

After story number two he had a stonking erection and was ready for some erotic play. He left the sauna, took a quick shower and headed for the TV room where, traditionally, one waited for a masseuse to become available.

There was no-one there so he took a seat on the rather tired settee and waited. In the words of Winnie The Poo, the more he waited, the more nothing happened! He took a look around and found a copy of Penthouse but the TV was somewhat distracting and so as not to spoil the mood, he grabbed the remote and turned it down. This was a decision that would change his life!

While reading the erotica and imagining the delights to come, he could hear various muffled sounds, coming from next door. This was a lot less subtle than a simple hand job. After some mumblings and and girly giggling there was a quiet spell followed by a totally unmistakable sound. There was a rhythmic squeaking sound, like the noise you get in a cheap hotel on Friday nights.

He picked up the remote again and put the TV on mute. Was it really what he thought it was? There was the evenly spaced squeak, presumably from the massage table. Yes it must be! Bloody hell! They were fucking! Mr Manchester was fucking July: he was getting a shag right next door, through that thin partition!

He listened intently and discovered that the sound of two people fucking was one of the most erotic sound he’d ever heard. His cock slowly came from the half mast position, occasioned by masturbating to Penthouse, to fully erect. In fact he had to stop himself stroking it to orgasm. What a waste that would be.

Squeak, squeak, squeak. There was a seriously intense shag going on right next door and he was revelling in the experience. He couldn’t help imagining her on her back, on a massage table, with her legs high in the air taking the full length of Mr Manchester’s cock deep inside her.

“He’s up to his bollocks in her tight little pussy.” He thought. “She’s on her back, pussy open to the world, Mr Manchester is stroking his dick in and out of her and by the sound of it, they are both getting short of breath. Squeak, squeak.

He knew that if he touched his cock he would come: shoot his cum into his towel so he forbade himself to touch it. Squeak, squeak, the rhythm continued. How the fuck can he be so measured? How can he last so long between those gorgeous thighs? How does he not cum? Squeak, squeak.

They must have been fucking for a full five minutes! And the more he listened the more he felt he was about to cum. Fuck, this was erotic. Listening to two people fucking was the best. Little did he know it was soon to become his top erotic fantasy and something he tried very hard to experience again and again.

Gradually the pace from next door speeded up, accompanied by deep male guttural sounds, then silence. He’d cum! Fuck that was erotic, he’d bloody cum deep inside that willing pussy. Not blowing his load into his towel was all he could manage.

Doors opened, doors closed, footsteps approached so he hastily grabbed the remote and turned up the sound. Just in time as it turned out because the door to the TV room opened and July came in.

There was no way you could tell she’d just been fucked. She was as cool as a cucumber. Not glowing, not out of breath: no sign at all but, as the only woman here there was no mistake. This woman had just been fucked. The thought almost tipped him over the edge.

“Ready now Rob?”

Fuck was he ever ready? He followed her to the massage room. It was next door.

“This is the room, it has to be.” He thought. “The room where this girl, July, just got fucked by Mr Manchester.” He couldn’t believe the effect this had on him. His cock stirred under his towel.

‘Oh I’m so looking forward to this.’ He thought.

As they entered there was the usual sign. “No Sexual Services” displayed on the side table. July was open, even brazen. After locking the door she picked up the sign, turned it around and said.

“We won’t be needing that then.”

His hopes rose faster than his cock. Anyway the massage was about to start and, emboldened by his experience and her openness he ventured, as he dropped his towel.

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