It was a warm but rainy day in Phuket, Thailand. The monsoon season had struck early, right in the middle of my two-week vacation to that beautiful country.
The first week had been a wonderful adventure, sunny tropical beaches punctuated by occasional passionate encounters with local Thai girls and Russian tourist girls. I had been working out and getting very tan, feeling great and being well received by the people I met. Life was pretty damn good.
When the rains started early it was like a giant switch had been flipped. People deserted the beaches in favor of the shops and bars. The nightlife was still fun but pouring rain put a damper on the daytime fun and walking around meant you were going to wear a plastic poncho or get soaked to the skin.
One of the wonderful things about Phuket was there were hundreds of massage salons throughout the island. Not sex parlors at all but regular massage salons where you could fall into a drowsy bliss while the experienced masseuse oiled, rubbed and relaxed you for an hour or so.
My favorite salon had a remarkably beautiful young Thai girl with raven hair, big lovely brown eyes and coffee-colored skin. One day after giving me an amazing massage she climbed up on to the table, surprised me with a long, passionate kiss and asked if she could meet me later back at my rented condo... but that is another story.
On this day I was a little bored and didn't have anything to do until a Muay-Thai boxing match later that night. The rain was coming down in a constant downpour. I had worked out until my muscles and joints were hurting and needed a break. Driving around the island I saw a sign that read, 'Center for Blind Massage'.
In Seoul, Korea I had a great experience with a blind masseuse. She had done a wonderful job in relaxing me after a 9 hour flight and afterwards I slept like a baby. Maybe another relaxing massage would be a good thing, then a nap and head out to the boxing match later that night.
I pulled into the parking lot and asked if there was an opening. Because there was no-one waiting and the lady at the desk said this masseuse was their best, I scheduled a two-hour block with her. They led me to a back room, quiet and private.
There were windows up high letting in a soft warm breeze and a radio softly playing some Thai music; the table was covered in immaculate white sheets and some nearby incense smelled like lavender. Very nice. The lady instructed me to undress and lay on the table, she would lead in my masseuse.
Most oil massages I had there were in the nude and the lady was blind, so off came all of my clothes and I settled face-down on to the padded table, placed a towel over myself, listened to the music and let my mind wander. A few moments later the lady escorted in my masseuse, introducing her as Pensri. She then left us and closed the door.
Pensri's hands glided over my back, letting me know she was there and probably professionally appraising me. She reached up to my head and down to my feet, understanding more about the person before her.
She put some oil on her hands and started the massage in earnest. As she moved around the table she never let her hands leave me; she was always keeping at least one hand touching me. She was amazing. She knew intuitively how deep to go, how hard to press, what was knotted and what just needed a soothing touch. In a few minutes I was pleasantly relaxed, in an hour I was almost asleep and hoping the massage would never end.
She spent the first half of the massage primarily on my back, shoulders and legs. All the tension from working at a computer desk and the long cross-Pacific flights was gone. Her hands were magic and I was willingly enchanted by them. She had run her hands across my back and down to my legs, across my butt so many times that the towel was in the way and she had tossed it aside.
Even blind, this woman probably knew my body better than anyone alive. Not distracted by what she was seeing, her ability to understand my body with her hands surpassed anyone I had known. If I only knew a lover who had such a touch!
At about the halfway point she stopped and motioned for me to roll over. This was the first time I got a good look at Pensri; she was probably late 30's, nice figure, her straight black hair framing a pleasant face with classic Thai features. Her eyes were closed. She was wearing a thin sleeveless cotton blouse and black Capri pants. Her arms showed remarkable definition.
"Such strong hands for a small woman," I thought. "I'll bet her arms are like steel." I had to suppress the urge to reach out to feel how muscled they were.
