“There is a wonderful massage parlor here,” I heard, lying on the beach, ten meters from the waves splashing on the coastal sand. “I’ve been coming here for the second year solely because of him. Go, you won't regret it.
I turned my head towards the speaker and saw two men sitting under a canopy. The speaker was about forty years old, like me, his interlocutor - much more. I myself would not refuse a good massage - the consequences of an injury received a long time ago were affecting, therefore, after waiting for my peer to go to the water, I followed him. After a couple of minutes, I already knew where to look for a massage parlor, as he dubbed it.
“Just don’t get too carried away,” he said with a grin, “otherwise I last year ...,” he didn’t finish, and I didn’t specify what he meant, following how his toned body dived into the oncoming wave.
The next day, before dinner, I went to the indicated address in the village. I forgot to say that this year I was vacationing at a recreation center in the Crimea, near the village of Shtormovoe. I barely found an unremarkable one-story building with a sun-faded banner with a red cross hanging over its front door. A hefty broad-shouldered guy with a blond curly beard was sitting at the table, lazily clicking the computer keys. Having specified what kind of massage I would like to receive, he wrote down my name in a journal, and then led me to a neighboring office and after five minutes he kneaded me, pressing his paws to the massage table. Twenty minutes later I came out of there, rejuvenated in soul and feeling vivacity in my whole body. True pleasure cost me twenty hryvnia, but it was worth it.
The next day I decided to repeat the procedure. The bearded man sat in the same place. Seeing me, he again made a note in his journal and suggested that we go to the next office. In the corridor, I ran face to face with my interlocutor yesterday. He just came out of some other office. I nodded to him as to an old acquaintance and stopped, as I was struck by his appearance. He was only wearing shorts, and that was nothing out of the ordinary, but everything else…
He was all dishevelled, red, his whole body shone with sweat, and in general, it seemed as if an armored personnel carrier had just passed over him or he had just fought with several opponents at once, but at the same time, on my face the interlocutor played a happy, I would even say stupid smile. He returned my greeting and walked past without even asking about my impression of the massage parlour. In his hand, I noticed a crumpled T-shirt and a towel.
- Do you do something else besides general massage? I asked the bearded man, taking off his shirt.
- What interests you? Specifically? - he answered the question with a question, squeezing the cream from the tube into his palm.
- Well, maybe manual or acupressure, I would not refuse.
- There is such a thing, but there is something more interesting ... - he made a significant pause, hiding a grin in his beard, - but it costs much more.
He began vigorously kneading my body without going into further details.
- Maybe it's an erotic massage? I tried to guess.
“Here, here,” the bearded man responded briskly. - If you want, I can sign you up.
- Record? I was surprised. - There, what is the queue?
- There is no queue, after all it is not a cheap pleasure, but we work by appointment, so that there are no overlaps, - the massage therapist explained.
"Why not?" I decided, relaxing under his fingers. "We can try once." I had money, and more than I could spend at this recreation center, so I decided. To my surprise, the "free window" was discovered only the next day, in the late afternoon.
- And how much per session? I asked when the bearded man wrote me down in another magazine.
- Twenty to fifty, - he said, looking inquisitively into my face - "green", of course.
It might be worth it, but...
"It's worth it, it's worth it," he interrupted me. “Nobody has complained yet.
The next day, exactly at the appointed hour, I was in a massage parlor. Leaving twenty bucks with the bearded man, I ended up in the same corridor, but almost at the very end of it. Behind the tightly closed door was exactly the same massage table as where I had been the day before. It was upholstered in soft yellow leather. In addition to the table, there were two more chairs - also leather and the same color, a small table with a bunch of bottles, jars and tubes, and a chair. There was another door hidden behind a curtain in the corner. I hesitated, as there was no one else in the office.
- Are you new? I heard a soft female voice behind me.
Turning around, I saw a short young girl who, apparently, came out from behind the curtain.
“Hello,” I mumbled, looking at my companion.
She did not look like a masseuse, in the truest sense of the word. A fragile chiseled figure, slender legs did not indicate that she did not have the strength of a massage therapist, but instead of strong muscular arms, I saw a large lush chest, literally bursting a snow-white dressing gown thrown over her shoulders. She did not fit in with the girl's thin waist and narrow, almost boyish hips. Her hair, black as a raven's wing, was hidden behind a snow-white hat, the same as a dressing gown. Only one naughty curl escaped from under her, covering a small pink ear. The swarthy skin and face indicated that the girl was a native of these places. Big, slightly slanting eyes, black eyes also spoke of this. A few hairs bristled above the plump upper sponge.
- Hello, Viktor Ivanovich, - she answered the greeting. “Take off your clothes and lie down,” she chirped, giving me a charming smile.
It seemed to me that there was nothing else under her dressing gown. A little embarrassed, I pulled off my T-shirt and shorts and, left in my swimming trunks, lay down on my stomach.
“Lie down comfortably and relax,” the girl advised, and at the same moment I felt the gentle touch of her light, thin fingers. They literally fluttered over my body, delivering inexpressible pleasure.
- What worries you? - again conveying to me her sweet voice.
“There are back pains, but not often,” I answered, raising my head slightly.
I could not see what the masseuse was doing, but her fingers disappeared and I involuntarily became worried.
“Lie down, lie down,” she prevented my attempt to get up. "I'll tell you when to turn over."
I obediently sank down on the cool bed and then felt the touch of the girl's thighs on my own. Kneeling over me, a young masseuse rested her fists on my back. I flinched under her pressure. The girl's fists began to work on my spine, but I almost did not feel their pressure. It was much more interesting to feel the touch of the smooth, delicate skin of her thighs and ass. She literally sat on my feet. At some point, I clearly felt the silky hairs of her pubis. And suddenly something else touched my back. It seemed to me that, along with the fingers, a hard nipple of a virgin breast slid over her, then again. I involuntarily tensed, feeling these touches become more frequent and more frank. Focusing my thoughts on this moment, I did not immediately hear that the girl was addressing me.
"Now you can roll over," she said, rising slightly.
Good to say. And how to do it when the petrified member tightly rested on the massage table and almost breaks through the trunks. Still, I managed to roll over, while sliding my feet along the inside of the girl's thighs. Not only did this touch not ease my tension, on the contrary. The excited member was torn out, but this did not bother my masseuse at all. She only blushed a little, either from excitement or from the effort she made to knead my body. However, I was completely taken aback. She was completely naked, except for a thin strip covering the causal place. The poured elastic chest literally stood, bristling with beads of nipples. The girl's body shone with a bronze tan, which was not reflected in the presence of a swimsuit.
Squeezing a little cream into her palm, she rubbed it into my chest with light, sliding movements and began to massage it, kneading the tensed muscles. However, one muscle was tense more than others. The girl didn't seem to notice. For several minutes she worked professionally with her hands, gradually moving her efforts down until she reached an obvious obstacle. As a matter of course, she casually pulled off my swimming trunks and moved to her feet, missing the most significant detail - a member sticking out of a stake. However, I did notice some changes. She breathed erratically, her chest began to heave more strongly, the tongue now and then licked parched lips. She didn't say a word in all that time.
Finally, when the minimum program was completed, the young masseuse returned a little back and began to massage my thighs, getting closer and closer to the member trembling with impatience. Her fingers lightly touched the trunk, moved to the scrotum, grabbed, as if weighing, the testicles and returned to the base again. The girl bowed her head, again nervously licked her lips with her tongue and, finally, as if overcoming some kind of barrier, took the head of the penis into her mouth. Her touch was tender and trembling, and I almost finished, but in time, pulling myself together, I was able to resist. The girl, meanwhile, got used to it a little and sat down on the massage table, exposing her seductive ass in my direction. Curving, she again sucked my cock into herself and earned her mouth like a professional blowjob. I couldn't stop the groan escaping from my chest and immediately put my hands into action.
The left one slid between her tanned thighs, making her way under the tight panties and groping for her wet, heat-breathing lips. The right hand landed on the elastic buttock, lustfully stroking the satin skin. The girl breathed deeper, already struggling to cope with the swollen flesh, which entered her mouth only halfway. My fingers parted the hot flesh, diving into a fabulous whirlpool and I immediately felt the oncoming movements of the hips. The girl's head shook, her fingers squeezed the barrel, making rhythmic reciprocating movements, and at the same moment I was discharged in her mouth. She froze, not letting go of his throbbing member, and suddenly, too, trembling all over, finished.
I knew it by the way a sticky, viscous liquid ran down my fingers. The girl's body went limp, but she did not let go of my cock until the last drop of sperm had flowed out of it. Only after that, she slipped from my fingers and, pursing her lips, darted behind the curtain. There was a sound of water pouring into the sink and a minute later, the young masseuse returned. Smiling embarrassedly, she threw on her dressing gown, straightened her disheveled hair. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shone, and she was all so attractive that I immediately began to wind up again.
“The session is over for today,” she said in a sweet voice, “if you want, you can sign up for tomorrow.
“Of course I do,” I blurted out involuntarily. - Who should sign up?
- At Arthur Mikhailovich's, - the girl answered. - My name is Zhenia. If tomorrow there is a free window, come.
Nodding goodbye, the young diva disappeared behind the door. I looked at the clock and froze. The massage session lasted an entire hour, which flew by for me in an instant. The bearded man gave me a penetrating look, marked something in a notebook and wrote it down for tomorrow.
- Did you like it with us? A slight smile hid in his thick beard.
- All was good. But I would like...
- The desire of the client is the law for us, - Arthur Mikhailovich interrupted me. - Only any service has its price, so it all depends on you.
I silently bowed and left the hospitable abode of hidden vice. The hot air instantly dried my steamed body and I went to the beach to freshen up as quickly as possible.
The next day, at the appointed hour, I was here again. Everything happened exactly the same as yesterday. True, instead of the little black Zhenechka, the little white Sveta served me. The only difference was that she did not allow me to caress her hand, hinting that it also costs money and is not included in the amount paid. But she did a professional blowjob, a massage too, and I immediately decided that I would become a regular client of this massage parlor. The most interesting thing is that I did not meet anyone else either on the first or on the second day. It felt like I was the only customer here. However, my conjectures were immediately dispelled by the bearded Arthur. When I asked why it was not Zhenya who served me, but another girl, he said that Zhenya was busy with another client and her time was scheduled until the end of the day.
“If you want to get to her, I can sign you up for tomorrow evening,” he offered. - What, you didn't like Sveta? There was surprise in his voice.
“I liked it, of course, but I would like to see Zhenya,” I replied, slightly embarrassed. - A very good girl.
- A student, - Arthur Mikhailovich remarked philosophically. “Actually, they are all good.
We said goodbye and I went to the beach. The rest of the day dragged on unbearably slowly, and the night seemed endless to me. I slept badly, worried for some reason, like the last boy. The next evening, I decided to pay for the services of a masseuse in full.
After breakfast, I went to the beach again. Lulled by the monotonous lapping of the waves, I dozed off in the sun, catching up at night.
- Greetings! Suddenly, a loud voice rang out in his ear.
I slowly opened my eyes, looking around. I did not find anyone I knew nearby and decided that I heard it.
- How's the massage? Went? said the same voice again.
I finally recognized the man lying nearby as my recent interlocutor, from whom I learned about the massage parlor.
“I was yesterday and came today,” I replied. — Thank you for the recommendation.
We chatted with him a little, but about nothing, but he suddenly, looking at his watch, began to get ready.
- I have the last session today, I'm leaving tomorrow, - he said, winking roguishly.
Around six in the evening, I also moved towards the salon. Artur Mikhailovich was very kind and, although I arrived a little earlier, he reported that Zhenya was waiting for me in the fourth office. He didn't cheat. Crossing her slender legs, Zhenechka was really waiting for me, sitting on the massage table. Little dimples adorned her cheeks as she rose to meet me smiling. This time there were no special preludes. Laying me on the table, Zhenya conscientiously gave me a back massage, then forced me to turn over face up and threw off my dressing gown, remaining at the same time what my mother gave birth to. My cock immediately reacted as soon as she approached and began to run her hands over my chest, stomach, inadvertently stealing up to him.
My hands themselves reached for her chiseled figure, but she pushed them away, asking them not to interfere with the process. Within a couple of minutes, her crimson lips closed on the head of my penis. Diligently licking him from top to bottom, sometimes taking him into her mouth and lightly sucking, she ensured that he soon stood like a stake, waiting for further action. I also wanted to lick her there, between her legs, but she gently pulled away and, deftly pulling a condom over my hero, climbed onto the table. Hanging over me, pressing her hips to mine, Zhenya began to drive over my body with the tips of her breasts, teasing and bringing me to the highest point of frenzy. Unable to endure the sweet flour, I wrapped my arms around her waist, lifted her up and roughly lowered her cock ringing with tension. The girl's fingers immediately grabbed him, guiding him along a certain channel, and I felt how he enters a narrow hot cleft, pushing the walls of the vagina apart, penetrating into it to the full depth. It was something!
Elastic young body swayed on me, bringing to a frenzy. This time I lasted longer than usual and finished in her, putting in sixth position. Resting her hands on the edge of the massage table, Zhenechka took in my friend, shaking her delicious ass with every blow.
- Come again, - a roguish smile lit up her face when I put an extra ten bucks into her pen at parting.
Needless to say, all the days remaining until the end of the vacation I was a client of this massage parlor. I didn’t feel sorry for the money spent on “recovery” and I left in high spirits, knowing in advance that I would definitely return here next year, and maybe even earlier. Mud baths are certainly good, but if, in addition to them, you also go for a massage, your health is guaranteed. Now I know it myself.