On my way to a meeting in Chelsea, had an hour to kill, AW and agency searches delivered nothing of interest or availability so having recently read of EE stunners, blow jobs and full sex being on offer in these gaffes I parked up and went exploring, anticipating breaking my massage shop virginity.
This place looked the best of a distinctly average bunch
External Link/Members OnlyComms; Walked in, interrupted the receptionist applying her lipstick, agreed £35 for 45 minutes, she showed to a cheaply decorated partitioned treatment room featuring a sink in one corner, shower in another and a massage table in the middle. I was instructed to remove my clothes and lie face down to await my masseuse.
Girl: Don’t know name, didn’t ask, don’t care.
I bristled with anticipation and was slightly disappointed when a five foot nothing Chinese teenager/early twenties came in and removed her hoodie to reveal the establishments uniform top and trousers.
I looked up to see a plain face with the bored look of a child being forced to watch the news on TV instead of playing video games and sighed forlornly.
She asked “how you want massage?” with all the enthusiasm of a husband being dragged out shopping by the missus when the football is on, I said hard and deep. My innuendo was met with a stony silence.
She delivered a poor to middling slightly oily massage on my back and shoulders, moving down to my legs, using the towel repositioning to avoid credit card swipes until just before the turnover, even then they were shallow and disinterested, there wasn’t a hint of a reach under despite me raising my arse and hips to give her a glimpse of what lay in wait.
She whispered “you wanna turn over” which I did, with a semi and she asked if I’d been there before as she oiled my legs and my erection grew. I said no but I’d heard about the place. She said hand relief is £20, I said will you take your top off, she said that’s more so I said “take it off” which she did to reveal lovely young firm natural tits with hard nipples and a shoulder tattoo.
I said how about your trousers, she said “next time” as I unbuttoned them, slid my hand in and grabbed her firm buttocks, I negotiated her down to £40 as I groped her and she oilily tossed me off, leaning in with her tits on my belly. I had a poke around the front of her trousers but recoiled as it felt like I was stroking a young Michael Jackson’s head. An untamed bush is not attractive to me so the only glimpse of pussy I got today was the waving cat statue in the window.
She leaned over again as she worked my shaft, tickled my full bollocks and put her mouth in a position that made me think she was going to suck my cock, this tipped me over the edge and I released over a week’s worth over her hand, arm, tits , my belly and the bed, with a couple of stray spurts landing on her top and bra on the stool.
She cleaned me up, offered a hot towel, ran the shower and left me for a few minutes. I checked the time, I got my full whack but reckon the face up time was no more than 15 minutes of the 45.
My impression was that oral and full sex are probably on the menu and relatively cheap compared to an escort but to be honest, shagging a not very hot, disinterested bird in a partitioned booth on a massage table is of no interest.
This experience gets a big fat negative from me because punting is all about how you feel when it’s over, right? Despite the fact that she probably delivered what was expected of her, it lacked any semblance of warmth or engagement and I walked out feeling dissatisfied and sordid.
