The story starts in a bar, where I have a night on the town with my friend Leo. Leo is a married man and lives in wisteria lane. We ended up in a bar and after some drinks, we got talking about sexual challenges. Leo confessed that he enjoyed missionary sex with his wife, but that she was not keen to experiment. Passion needs to be expressed in pitch darkness. Little variation over the years. For convenience, I'll use the "I" form, in which he recounted the story. So one day, I was on a business visit to the Middle East:
It had been a day of heavy shopping and and at around 2pm, my muscles and feet were weary and feeling the strain. Normally I would take a sauna to soak in the heat and clean the skin, but options were limited. Instead of returning to my apartment, I opted for a traditional Thai massage. The receptionist was pleasant, enquiring on any ailments of areas to be avoided. I noted I had none and was ushered to the treatment room. She asked me to undress and was given a pair of paper shorts to wear. You are not reading this to learn about Thai massage techniques, rest me to say that the masseuse was thorough. At a given point - I was on my belly, I heard a tearing sound. These came from the legs of my paper trousers, allowing the masseuse to get better access to the buttock muscles and ligaments of my upper leg. This unfortunately woke up my cock, outside my control. I tried to "will" it down, by thinking of marine engine design - to no avail. I did not dare to look and was happy, lying on my stomach...at which time she asked me to turn around.