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Introduction:

often you get what you pay for, sometimes language makes a big difference
was twenty-eight, single, and returning home from a wedding at a southeast Asian resort. I had a couple of days before my flight to return home. So I took the scenic bus tour to get back to the airport so I could then fly home. The trip was over two days, with a stopover at a provincial town.

The accommodation was fine, at a fairly cheap clean hotel, but the bus trip left me feeling a bit jaded. I had a few aches, and a tight muscle in my shoulder, along with a dull headache. I went out to get a bite to eat when I saw a massage parlor down a small side street. I thought long and hard, unsure if I should get a massage. I carried on out and had something to eat, then as I returned, I looked in again. It looked very nice. I took a small step inside just to poke my nose in, I was approached by a young lady who invited me in.

The language was difficult and was going to cause a few problems. After a few attempts, I think we sorted out that I could have an hour-long massage, with a special included, and they could do it right then and there. I paid and I was escorted to a room out the back with a massage table. There was a light fragrance of incense, and soft music playing. The young lady made some armaments placing things on a trolley. She then indicated to me to remove my dress, and for me to lie face down on the table. She also indicated that I should remove my bra. I thought for a moment or two then released the hooks and placed my bra with my dress. Then I kicked off my sandals and climbed onto the table. Once in place, she then put a small towel over my backside.

She then left the room. About a minute later the door opened and she returned with another person, an older man. I think she tried to introduce him, but again language made it too hard. She then left again.

He spoke carefully and slowly, but I had no idea what he was saying. The man started to massage my back and shoulders. He certainly knew what he was doing, quickly easing my shoulder, and I soon relaxed to his touch. I realized that he was very good.

For quite some time he worked on my back, shoulders, and then moved to my arms and legs. After that, he started to massage my feet, and I kind of turned into a puddle. It felt so amazing, and I became quite dreamy.

After a couple of minutes, I realized he was trying to ask me something, I figured out that he wanted me to roll over onto my back. I did, but it was more of a kind of a flop over. I wasn't aware that the towel had now slipped away, nor that now I had my breasts exposed. He continued with my feet for a couple more minutes, then he worked on my knees. I didn't realize that as he placed my knees back down he left a bit of a gap between them.

He then moved to the top of the table and started to massage my shoulders, neck and upper chest. As I felt his hands move over my upper chest, I slowly began to realize that my breasts were exposed, but so far he seemed to be avoiding them. He then lifted my arms up to work at my sides, but this time his hands briefly rubbed across the outer edges of my breasts.

I was still blissfully dreamy and didn't know quite what to expect next. He then moved to be at my side, and again began to massage my arms and sides up to my armpits.

He then ran his hands up and together on my chest to just below my breasts, he pushed both his hands up between my breasts, up to my shoulders and back down my sides again.

I was somewhat confused by his move, unsure what had just happened, or what to do or say. I was trying to figure out what was going on when he did it again. I felt bewildered, but I stayed quite still as his hands moved down my sides and then moved across my chest to go between my breasts for the third and fourth time. I was quite taken aback, his hands had just had rubbed against my breasts.

He then reversed his direction. Once, twice, his hands rubbed up my sides and then down between my breasts. Then, on the next circuit, I felt his hands open out as he drew them down. I gave a tiny whimper as I felt his hands descend to be fully on my breasts, skimming over my nipples and then away to my sides. I freaked inside, but I didn't move. I was still trying to figure out what was going on.

His hands pressed in and ran up my sides, then again, his hands opened out. I knew his hands were going to pass over my breasts again. His hands moved down, pressing more firmly, and began to pass over my breasts. At that moment, I had a sudden, shocking thought. Was having my breasts massaged part of what I had agreed to? His hands moved around, up, and then down over my breasts again, catching my nipples, making them quiver and bobble about as I whimpered. Was he now doing what I had actually paid for him to do?

Had I paid for him to massage my breasts? It seemed to be the awful truth. I felt his hands again, moving more firmly over my breasts and nipples. I couldn't think of any other explanation. Another round, another whimper while his hands were going firmly over my breasts, I still had no idea what I could do.

The man changed his action, and I felt his hands run up my breasts from my sides, cupping and lifting them and then gently squeezing them. He had taken hold of my breasts and he was starting to massage them. I realized in my folly that I had allowed him to carry on. He was now massaging my breasts, and I felt stupid inside for not trying to stop him, and now I felt it was going to be awkward to get him to stop.

I shut my eyes and tried to zone it out, but I couldn't. His hands were doing what his hands had already done to me in other places. I was getting and going to get, my breasts massaged. I didn't want to have my breasts massaged. But they were actually being massaged, and then I felt him squeeze my breasts quite firmly, just as if to confirm it.

He changed his action again, and it was much more vigorous. Oh my God, what was he doing? A hard squeeze and I gasped and whimpered as he gave a solid push up and then a firm pull down.

Oh God, what was he doing to me? Hands cupping me again, another hard squeeze, again I whimpered. Fingers pressing into my breasts, scraping over my skin and rubbing my nipples. This is not what I had expected, but it was happening, and I felt powerless to stop him.

He kept on going, and I started to lose myself in the intense sensations. Was this really happening? Yes! It was. He was going from firm pushing too hard squeezing when I felt his thumb and fingers take hold of my nipples. He squeezed hard and pulled my nipples up and out. I gasped as I felt the effects race through my body and down to my groin. He released my nipples only to catch them again, squeezing hard as he drew my nipples out again. Oh God, that had sent another powerful jolt to between my legs.

He cupped and squeezed again. I groaned. He pushed one side up, pulling the other side down, then he reversed. He circled and squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples with his fingers, sending more sensations to between my legs. Again he caught my nipples, repeating the hard squeeze and pulling, I whimpered and groaned. Another round of firm cupping and hard squeezing had me breathing hard.

Then one of his hands left my breasts, and I felt it descend onto my belly. I had a fairly good idea of what was going to happen next. His hand went over to my hip, and then to my upper thigh, which he then massaged, then he swapped over to my other thigh, while his other hand stayed working on my breasts.

Then he began to massage my inner thighs. I cringed and briefly tried to pull my legs together, but his hand firmly stopped me and eased my legs apart again. I could feel the arousing effect it had on me. He eased my legs a little bit wider, and I felt the back of his hand brush up against my underwear. I knew exactly what was going to happen next, and had no idea about how to stop it.

His hand made firm contact, and I gasped. He then began to massage my mound, and I somehow managed not to squirm too much. He had his hand between my legs, firmly rubbing my genitals through my underwear. I was shocked, but I was now also too aroused to be able to stop him. I just hoped that this was not going to end badly.

He kept on massaging both my breasts and my genitals, his fingers pressing firmly against me, only my underwear between him and me. And I was really getting caught up in the sensations of it all.

I felt his hand withdraw for a moment from between my legs, up onto my lower belly. He circled a couple of times, then he pushed his hand back down again, fingers hard against my skin. There was a momentary pause as his fingers encountered my underwear, and then with firm pressure, his fingers dipped down to slip underneath. His hand carried on down, under my underwear, now in direct contact with my body.

Deep in my mind, something was screaming out that this was very wrong. But I was completely helpless now, and his hand was far too involved for me to try to stop what was happening. I could feel his fingers probing and stroking me, while his palm was firmly rocking on my mound.

His fingers pressed in, easing me apart. I whimpered and groaned as his fingertips rubbed over my clit. The sensations increased. I felt his fingers rub more, then he curled his fingers, and I gasped as I felt his fingers intrude inside me.

Oh my God, his fingers were up inside me. They felt invasive, awkward and tight, he was pushing them deeper while he wriggled them. He curled his fingers and I felt the internal pressure as he began to withdraw them. Then he pushed them in again, making me whimper. He again curled them and drew them partway out, before pressing them in again.

Oh God. No! I didn't want his fingers inside me, this was too much. I groaned and whimpered as I felt my nipple being squeezed hard while he thrust his fingers firmly into me. My body clenched against his fingers then eased as he began to withdraw. It was a sign of what was happening to me, and how much he had control over me.

Breathing hard, I felt his fingers push again and again deep into me, stroking my insides, seeking and finding the right spot to drive me crazy. I gasped and whimpered, his hands both drove me completely to distraction. He kept me going and building me up. It took a couple more minutes to bring me to climax. I had a hard, strong climax and I struggled to hold back as I cried out.

Then he withdrew his hands, took the towel and placed it across me again. Smiling he said to me. "You feel much better now." He turned and left the room.

I sat up slowly on the edge of the table feeling totally bewildered. I just couldn't believe what had happened to me. I was in a state of shock and struggling to catch my breath. Then I felt a sense of deep shame. How could I have been so foolish?

Slowly I got up and picked up my bra and dress. Carefully I put my bra back on, well aware my breasts were still feeling very sensitive. Then I pulled on my dress over my head, feeling it drop down over my now tingling body. I slipped my sandals back on, and slowly walked over to the door.

As I made my way past the reception area, the young lady smiled at me as she caught my eye, but I could see something darker in her eyes. She knew full well what had just happened to me, and I could tell she found me to be an object of some pity and distaste. I was just another foreign stranger, and that I had come to them to have myself serviced by them.

Then for some stupid reason, I said, “Thank you”. Her face lit up and I knew deep down, she was right. She saw something in me that I had never felt before. She looked into my soul and saw both my satisfaction, as well as the shame and guilt draped across me.

I tried to walk calmly back to my hotel, hoping that the shame glowing on my red cheeks would not give anyone looking at me an insight to what had just happened. I was still puffing but tried hard to make sure I controlled my breath. While it was only a short walk, it seemed to take a very long time. I went up the steps and into the cool lobby. I felt relief at reaching the hotel. Then I was scrambling for my keys to let me into my room.

I shut the door behind me, flicking the catch. I walked over to my bed, sat and then burst into tears. I don't know how long I cried, but then I decided I really needed to shower. Hot water cascaded over me, as I tried to wash away my shame. Finally, I readied myself for bed, pulling the sheet tightly about me. I felt drained and I was exhausted. I shut my eyes.

My alarm clock woke me. It was a new day, I had slept well, and was feeling much more refreshed and reinvigorated than I thought possible. I had a bus to catch. I knew then that I was going to basically walk away, and try to leave my shame and guilt behind me.

While the City rumbled slowly past the window, my thoughts focused on my self. Yes, I had neglected my sexual needs for a while. Then I felt guilty about what he had done to me. I knew that this was now my very own dirty little secret. Something that I wanted to bury deep inside me, something nobody would know.

As the countryside and time slipped by, the events seemed to fade a little bit more. The more I looked ahead, to my flight and being back home, the better I began to feel. I just wanted to end this sudden unexpected chapter in my life.
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