External Link/Members OnlyOne hour full body massage for £45 plus £30 for a happy ending.
I was going to be passing through Brentwood with a couple of hours to wait in London, so I thought that I'd shift the place where I was waiting and get something done in the meantime.
I sent a text whilst I was on the train and they asked me how they could help me and when I wanted to book an appointment. This was at half one and they were free after three so I thought might as well and asked for three, which they confirmed, then asked me for how long and I said an hour.
Bloody train arrives late so by the time I was getting close to the place it was already ten past three, and they text me reminding me about the appointment and if I was still coming.
The shop itself looks like your standard massage place from the outside, windows covered by adverts and pictures of people getting massages. It's in the middle of a row of shops. Nearly directly opposite is a pub, which I though oh bugger are there going to be a load of people sitting outside drinking, however there was nobody at all so it was alright.
I went in through the door, which reminds me a bit of a back door for a house rather than a shop door, and went in. The place had a reception desk, and behind it was stood a short Asian woman, long black hair, wearing a mask so I couldn't really judge her age but reasonably old maybe over thirty. I hate to say it, some of my nieces and nephews have bad skin and are spotty but this was something else, her forehead which was the only bit exposed had a very large red patch that looked inflamed. She asked me if I was here for a massage, then if I was the three booking.
She showed me into a side room almost directly opposite the reception desk, dimmed the lights and put the heating on. Then as she was leaving she asked me how long, I said an hour, and she asked for £45. She then left me in there. This room was clearly the one facing out into the street, there was a massive window with curtains drawn over it. A massage table in the centre, a desk with a radio/CD player on it, a shower cubicle and sink in the corner of the room. Normally I would shower before a massage but this shower cubicle was clapped, grottiness even visible in the dim light. I undressed and ceremoniously folded my clothes into a heap on the floor.
She knocked and came in, then said something incomprehensible. I took it to mean lay down, so I got on one end of the table, which promptly upended itself because the base was unstable and I've been baking too much in lockdown.
Oops.
She played some 'relaxing' music, which didn't help that much as you could hear the people in the corridor and more alarmingly the people passing in the street. Oiled my back and started rubbing it. I've lost my anatomy knowledge from the student days but it seemed to be a reasonable massage, hard and soft in places where there are big muscles etc. The occasional foray between the buttocks but not a lot.
After about half an hour she said something incomprehensible. God I'm sorry but her accent was rather thick and I just can't hear and understand, I had her repeat about three times and she was saying turn over. Rubbed my legs a bit then asked if I wanted 'special massage'. I said yes and she said something else. Eventually I worked it out and offered twenty pounds like I'd seen in previous reviews, turns out that, for me at least, the price has gone up and it's thirty.
She continued massaging my legs, moving on to my penis now and then, until the obligatiory happened and I finished. She seemed delighted. "You quick, you like young man, I like". Need to start practicing some stamina and edging it seems. She cleaned me up well with lots of paper towel, then draped another bit over me which I thought was quite sensible to soak up, then asked me if I'd like head massage. Now I've a big long head of hair at the moment and if that oil goes anywhere near it I'm going to need to use that godforsaken shower so I say no.
She then points at my chest and arm and says massage and O nod. She rubs my chest a bit and stretches out each of my arms in turn, going up and down the length of it, then cracking each of my finger joints in turn. Now I'd had my suspicions, but at this point it was confirmed, this was the same reception lady as before with the unfortunate skin condition. It had been dim and I wouldn't really have been able to confirm but she got quite close, to my abject dismay.
She's finished her massage, so she rubs me all over with some paper towel to get the oil off. I sit up on the table and she does the same on my back, then embarks on a remarkable slapping and beating campaign on my back. Oh well. Must be part of the massage technique I guess.
She turns the music off, yells something in her l, changes the paper on the table, I get dressed, hand her over the £30, she wishes me a good day, and I leave.
Bog standard massage really, can't complain, she was friendly enough and the communications were good.
