I am a masseur. I've had my own practice for many years now. How I got to where I am today is a tale worth telling. It's a long story - stick with me.
It started in my freshman year in college. I was hit by a car while biking, and broke a leg, bruised some ribs and sprained my wrist, as well as totaling a pretty decent bike. After I got the cast off of my leg I was prescribed two months of physical therapy. The college had a pretty big sports program as well as a physical therapy department. And since the accident happened on campus and I was initially treated at the campus med center, the therapy was scheduled to take place on campus as well.
On day one of my therapy, I was assigned to Jen, who was to be my therapist for the next two months. She was a graduate student just finishing up her Masters in Physical Therapy and was working part time in the PT department.
Jen was a great therapist. Besides teaching me the exercises and how to use certain pieces of exercise equipment, she was a good at motivating me to push myself harder. She could be tough on me when I felt like I couldn't do one more leg extension, but would share my joy when I finally was able to complete the entire set.
Part of the therapy was a massage. It ended every session. Jen primarily concentrated on my leg, massaging the muscles that had been out of commission for a while. Early on, when I mentioned that my back was bothering me, she included a back massage to the routine. She was a good masseuse, and she knew that I liked the massages, so from that point on she would sometimes motivate me in my work out by promising a back rub.
Jen and I had started talking about general life experiences in the first couple of massages, but pretty soon we were sharing more personal stories. So, over the course of the therapy sessions, we became friends. As much as I had hated the idea of therapy when I first started it, I learned to enjoy it and would look forward to each session. By the last session I was walking upright with barely a limp, and my broken leg felt almost as strong as the other one.
As Jen was massaging me for the final time, I thanked her for her help and support and told her I was going to miss these sessions. She commended me on my progress and tried to give me all of the credit. She also told me that if I was ever in the need of a massage I could call her and she'd be there. She gave me her card. She also gave me a goodbye hug.
Finally free from the forced exercise, I found myself hooked. I started to spend more and more time in the schools weight room and cardio center. While my studies were still front and center, fitness became a close second. I was becoming a gym rat.
One day I tried to dead lift a bit more weight than I should have and I felt my back give out. It was really painful for about an hour. Advil and ice packs helped to bring the pain level down, but it was bothering me for a couple of days. I decided to call Jen.
She sounded happy to hear from me and asked how I was doing. When I told her, she said that I should come over as soon as I could. I knew that she had her own massage business on the side and that she worked out of her small graduate student housing apartment. We set up an appointment for that afternoon.
I arrived on time and Jen greeted me with a hug. She looked different from how she looked while working in the PT department. Instead of the college logo polo shirt and dark pants, she had on a loose fitting T shirt and running shorts. I had always thought of her as attractive; her off duty appearance made her even more so. And, just to make myself clear on a point here, I never thought of her as anything more than a friend. The age difference was only eight years, but when you are 18, a 26 year old seems, well, much older.
She ushered me into her small second bedroom which she used as her studio. It had what I now know as the standard massage room amenities of a massage table, a side table with towels and bottles of oils and lotions, a CD player and some candles.
"So you hurt your back?" she said. "Trying to be Superman?"
"Yes I know it wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done." I said. "It really hurt at first but now it's just a persistent dull pain."
"Well, I'll see what I can do about that." She said. "But first let me tell you a little bit about this."
She told me about her massage business. She had started it four years ago and is building up a good client base. She said that unlike her job at the college where she only gives sports or therapeutic massages, she offers a wide variety of types of massages. And while some of her clients come to her with specific issues, the majority of her clients get relaxation massages; some consider it as a gift to themselves. She explained that a proper massage can relieve tension in your body as well as in your mind and spirit. And that while she does enjoy the added income, she also enjoys making people feel better.
I understood, but had to ask "So how much do you charge for a real massage?"
She smiled and replied "For you, today, there is no charge. I'd consider it an honor, my privilege, to give you your first real massage!"
Then she explained the procedure. "I'll leave the room while you undress and get under the cover sheet. We'll start with you face down".
I stripped down to my underwear and got on the table. When she came back in, Jen lit some candles, dimmed the lights and turned the CD player on.
Jen started the massage by applying oil to her hands and using her hands to spread the oil over my back. She worked at loosening some tightness in my shoulders and upper back, and then continued down my back. When she applied some pressure to my lower back I winced. She said "I'll get back to that." She put a heating pad on the area and recovered me with the sheet.
Jen moved down to my legs, totaling uncovering my right leg. She spread the oil on as she had with my back and then started massaging from my calf up to my thigh. She had touched me there before but now, outside of the school setting, it seemed very different. The heat and smoothness of the oil, the dimmed lights and the music all helped me relax. I dozed off for a minute or two.
I woke back up when Jen removed the heating pad. I apologized for falling asleep, but she said that it's not an issue. "It happens a lot." she said, "In a way it's a compliment on my ability. But the next part might not be so relaxing."
She applied more oil on my lower back and started massaging with very light pressure. It was a bit painful at first, but eventually, after applying a bit more pressure, the pain lessened.
"You had a big knot back there." she said. "Whatever you did, don't do it again."
I promised her I wouldn't.
She told me it was time to roll over. She lifted up the cover sheet so that she couldn't see me. I wasn't concerned about that; I was wearing boxer briefs that were not really any briefer than my workout shorts that I wore for the therapy sessions.
Jen covered me back up with the sheet and then folded it down to expose my upper body. She massaged my neck, shoulders and chest, avoiding my nipples. She then massaged my belly, with much gentler strokes. Her touch there seemed more personal and less technical; I assumed that was what she had referred to as a relaxation massage. This, along with the sensation of her oiled hands, was messing with my head. I didn't yet have a fully defined six-pack, but you could definitely see the results of my workout regime. Jen commented on this while tracing a finger over the muscle delineations. The center cut of my yet-to-be six-pack extended thru my belly button and down under my briefs; her finger stopped at the brief line.
Jen covered my chest, moved to my side, and completely uncovered my leg all the way up past my underwear up to my hip. She spread oil up and down my leg, and then started massaging from the calf up. Her touch on my inner thigh, along with the previous six-pack touch, was starting to get me turned on. I felt the beginnings of an erection. I was petrified that she would notice, but consoled myself that I was doubly covered by my underwear and the cover sheet. As she worked on my thigh muscles, her massage became more firm; the moment passed and I could relax.
However, once she switched legs and starting applying oil up my thigh, that feeling kicked back in. Again, being double covered, I hoped she didn't notice anything.
And shortly thereafter the massage was over. Jen took a towel from the side table and wiped up any excess oil from my legs and upper body. She told me to take my time getting off of the table, that she was going to wash up and would be back in shortly.
I had just finished dressing when she came back in.
"OK, so how do you feel?" she asked.
