Author's Note.
This is my first story, and it's what I categorize as a "possibilities" story. The main premise of the story is true. I did go to Asia for a trade show, but not in Singapore. I did stay at a swanky hotel with a free happy hour. We did run into some other Americans who wanted to go to a massage place. And it was one of the best massages I've ever had. We did change in a communal changing room, which was totally unexpected to me, and I did end up suddenly seeing several strangers whip their cocks out in front of me.
But while I did wear panties on that trip, I did not wear them to the massage parlor, and none of the post massage events happened. But how glorious it would be if they did.
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It had started out like any other business trip to Asia. Two days of grueling long flights in economy class and then 12 glorious hours of sleep in a soft hotel bed, followed by another long day getting the trade show booth set up and ready to go for the big event to that would place the rest of the week. But Frank and I muscled through booth setup like seasoned pros and we wrapped up in time for happy hour.
Frank and I work in technical sales, and though the hours are long the perks are a plus. We've both been working at this same company for the last 10 years, and we're good at what we do. We're on the road 8 to 12 weeks a year. Frank's about 45 and I'm 42. Being on the road is harder on Frank. He's got a wife and two kids. I haven't settled down yet. I'm having too much fun. Speaking of fun, it's time to relax and enjoy some of the comforts that business travel in Asia affords. And Asia has a lot of comforts.
The taxi dropped us our hotel, which was a pretty nice 5 star affair in a trendy area of Singapore, and we headed up to our rooms to get changed. We were on the club level, which had a nice bar and a free happy hour setup. The plan was to change into something comfortable, grab a free cocktail and then and see what Singapore had to offer.
I shucked my sweaty t-shirt and jeans, and after a brief, but heavenly hot shower, I opened up my suitcase to grab some fresh clothes for the night. I grabbed a clean polo shirt and some cargo shorts and a pair of boxer briefs. I slipped on the shirt and started to slip on the briefs, but stopped and shook my head.
No. I was ready to relax and these would not do. I put the boxer briefs back into the suitcase and pulled a small day bag out of the suitcase. I unzipped the day bag and pulled out a black lace bra and a matching pair of panties. This was one of my favorite perks of business travel. There was always room in the suitcase for a little something special to wear and I often liked to lounge in my hotel room clad in nothing but lingerie. It was just my little secret.
I held the bra up over my shirt and admired the image in the mirror. Cute, but the bra would have to wait for later when I got back to the room. It wouldn't do having it show under my polo shirt. I stuffed the bra back into the bag.
But the panties were a go. They were a sexy bikini shape that covered my ass and didn't ride up too high. I slid them on, sighing softly as I felt the soft spandex caress my ass cheeks. Then I adjusted my semi-aroused penis into the snug, slightly scratchy lace front of the panties. I put my cargo shorts on over top of them. A quick mirror check front and back assured me that no lace was peeking out anywhere. I slipped on my sandals, grabbed my wallet and headed to the bar. And this is where things took a turn from the usual.
I arrived to the club bar to find Frank seated with half a dozen other guys, engaged in an animated conversation and gulping down a Tiger beer. With the exception of one African-American guy, the rest of Frank's newfound crew looked pretty much like me, but maybe a few years older. In other words, a bunch of middle-aged white American sales guys. At 42, I was the youngest of the group. The other guys were mostly in their 50s. Rupert was the oldest, I'd find out later. He was 59.
"They this my buddy Dan!" Frank sang out.
Frank waved me over to the table and motioned to the hostess, who swiftly showed up with a Tiger beer for me. I thanked her for the beer and grabbed a seat, nodding as Frank introduced everyone.
"Hey Dan, these guys are in town for the show too. Fellows, this is Dan."
Frank was quick to learn names and in the few minutes I had been showering, he had already learned them all. We went around quickly and I shook hands as he introduced them.
"Rupert."
"Peter."
"George."
"Sam."
"Steve."
"Ian."
We got to talking shop and did the usual chit chat about the upcoming week. The Tiger beer kept flowing and the hostess came around with complimentary appetizers, and soon our plans to go out on the town to eat evaporated. Before I knew it, it was almost 8 PM and the free booze dried up.
"Well, I'm off to bed and to facetime the wife" Frank said. Ian, George, and Steve, stood up and said similar things.
"What are your plans? Still heading out on the town?" Frank asked me, stifling a yawn and stretching.
"I don't know. I'm pretty sore, actually." I said.
"I've got just the place for you then. The best massage in Singapore. I guarantee it." It was Rupert who spoke.
"You mean massageee. Wink Wink?" I said, with a grin.
Rupert laughed. "No nothing like that, though I know a place for that too. No I'm talking a legitimate Asian massage like you've never had before. I've been coming to Singapore for 30 years, and this is the best place in the whole country. A 50 year old Singaporean lady will walk on your back and make you cry like a baby. You'll feel 20 years younger, trust me."
Maybe it was the Tiger beer. Maybe it was the jet lag. Maybe it was the nagging pain between my shoulders, but the next thing you know, I am saying "That does sound pretty good, actually. Count me in."
Rupert takes out his phone and calls his driver who shows up a few minutes later. The next thing you know, Rupert, Peter, Sam and I are in a car headed somewhere into the night.
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We arrive at a nondescript building somewhere in an industrial district, far from any western hotels. There are no restaurants or bars or anything nearby that would suggest a massage parlor would be here. Rupert hands some cash to the driver. The car pulls away and suddenly we're alone on a deserted street in Singapore.
Rupert walks to an unmarked door, opens it, and we're in an unremarkable lobby. There's a small reception desk. The man behind the desk hands us each a key on a numbered lanyard, and gestures to a wall covered with what looks like post office boxes.
"Your phones and wallets will be safe in there" he says.
Glancing around at the other guys, who don't seem concerned, I follow their lead and place my wallet and keys in a lock box and slip lanyard over my neck. After we put our wallets away, a steward appears from behind the desk and guides us through a hallway and into a locker room. He hands us each a short silk kimono and gestures to the lockers. "Put your clothes in there and put this on." It's at this point that I remember I am wearing panties.
The other guys, nonplussed, take off their shirts and pull down their shorts. Frozen, like a deer in the headlights, I stare blankly as three guys bare their penises right in front of me. I notice Rupert in particular. He was solidly built, with a modestly hairy chest and bit of a belly, but not too sloppy. His crotch was shaved and a fairly thick looking circumcised cock hung down. Sizable balls hung heavily in his nut sack.
I quickly snap out of staring at his cock and decide the only thing to do is pull down my shorts and panties all in one go, hoping the shorts will hide my panties. I rip my shorts and panties off in one motion and stuff them into a locker and put on my kimono. Nobody seems to say anything, and we head off to the massage room.
What follows is what I can only describe as the most blissful massage experience I have ever had. A 50? 60? year old Singaporean lady proceeded to rip apart my muscles and put them back together like Seabees building a runway on Guadacanal. It was excruciating. It was magic. It was the best massage I have ever had.
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The ride back to the hotel is quiet. We all lay back in our seats, eyes rolling in the backs of our eye sockets, reveling in endorphins. Everyone is relaxed almost to the point of being in a coma. We ride the elevator up to the club level to head our separate ways before the morning trip to the convention center.
But as we stride down the hallway towards the guestrooms, I hear my name. It's Rupert. He has stopped in front of one of the doors. I presume it's his room.
"Dan, got a minute?" he asks.
"Sure. That was a great massage by the way. Good call. What's up?" I ask.
"Glad you liked it. I told you to trust me."
Rupert pauses for a moment before continuing.
"Back in the locker room. I couldn't help but notice you were wearing black lace panties." he says.
I quickly look around to see if anyone had heard him and is looking back our way. I see a couple others fumbling with their room keys, but no one looks our way.
"Sssh." I hiss. I am starting to flush a little bit.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Dan. I didn't mean to embarrass you." He pulls out his room card and slides into the slot, opening the door we are standing in front of. I guess it is his room after all.
"I also noticed you took a pretty long look at my cock."
I really start to flush. I open my mouth to stammer a reply, but Rupert opens the door a little wider and cuts me off.
"Maybe we should discuss this inside. Unless you'd rather keep talking about my cock in the hallway?"
