I mentioned yesterday that I had my first ever massage in Jamaica.
I had not had a massage before, mostly because the thought of a stranger touching me made me a bit nervous.
The Chief and my mother conspired and pressured me into a massage on our first day in Jamaica. My mother even paid for it. “It will be sooooo good for you,” they said in full hivemind action. “You need a massage.” I reluctantly caved in. The women in my life are relentless. I agreed to relax.
As my appointment grew closer, I began to wonder what to wear. Everyone said that a swimsuit would be sufficient. I sweated my way to the spa (as is my genetic decree, I sweated my way everywhere in Jamaica). I was given a refreshing glass of water and ushered into a locker room. Once my robe and flip flops had been provided, I stepped into the shower room and changed. My masseuse introduced herself when I walked out.
We made our way to the room. Enya was playing in a dimly lit chamber with two tables. I was told to disrobe and get under the sheet. Once the masseuse left, I flopped on the table and clumsily made my way under the covers. It felt like I was at the doctor’s office. The masseuse walked back in after knocking and immediately told me to take off my swim trunks. Panic kind of set in then.
She left the room; I dropped trou and then paced the room naked with my shorts in hand. Another knock on the door made the decision easy: drop the shorts and get covered. I threw them in the air and slid under the sheet again more easily this time since I had less resistance. I was naked.
She picked up my shorts with two fingers and tossed them on the other table. It was about that time that I realized that I was naked in room with an attractive female. Since I was lying on my stomach though I figured any involuntary actions from my body would be well hidden. Then the rubbing began.
It was pretty relaxing. My only complaint was my face being shoved into that headrest hole deal. It made me want to drool. By the time I realized that she had her hands on my ass I had pretty much gotten over being naked. I was reminded of gym class, where nudity was required to get clean in the showers. A massage was just a piece of business that required you to be naked. And apparently a part of that business was to make sure my ass was relaxed.
Then panic set in again when I heard a gentle voice telling me to flip over. That is when I realized that the sheet was off of me and my bare ass was pointed at the ceiling. She had the sheet held up high much like a changing screen. I flipped over and then the thought of involuntary boner action really crept in to my head. My legs were positioned in such a way that I couldn’t really get any tuck action either. It was definitely moment of truth time. Mind over penis, which when you break it down is similar to the Washington Generals versus the Harlem Globetrotters.
Once the sheet was back on me, I was back in control. My arms and chest were getting worked over, and my eyes were covered after my face was massaged. Then I realized that nothing was being massaged. It was time for the legs. The far end of the sheet came snapping up and I thought it was game over. Bonjour, mademoiselle! C’est moi, Max’s junk. However, with the sheet snap came a quick low roll, and I realized then there had been no exposure. Then the next thought came: she’d been really thorough, and she’d want to move up my thigh pretty high. How will there not be junk touching? It was then that the rolled sheet was cupped and tucked into my crotch like a diaper.
Oh, I thought, that is how I will not be touched. For a brief second I thought it was time for a “happy ending,” and I was really weirded out because I would know that my mom had paid for it. That thought alone was enough to keep any spontaneous sexual mishaps from occurring.
So, in recap, Penis: 1,000,000,000. Mind: 1. Thanks, Mom.
Afterwards, I sat in the steam room with a towel that reminded me of gym class further (you know how they are too small, and how you wrap it around your ass first and close the gap realizing that you now have a nice inverted V-shaped window to your balls). A cold shower later and I was out the door.
I don’t know if I would get another massage again, but it was definitely an experience.
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