I was in the mood to hit my usual SC to try out a couple girls I've noted on previous visits. Saw a couple of their names on the lineup posted to the SC's website. Unfortunately I've also been dealing with a sore shoulder and neck from a few days so I googled for massage places on the way and spotted a cluster in an office park right behind one of my usual grocery stores. The old brain-a-roonie started hissing and clicking as it developed a masterful plan. Porque no los dos? Could the stops be combined, you know, for efficiency? Now, I've never been to a massage parlor so I started clicking around, trying to distinguish the legitimate from the less legitimate with an eye for the less legitimate. I eliminated the place that prominently advertised couples massage and clicked around the remaining places a bit until I noticed one mentioned "table shower". I don't know much about massage parlors but I knew enough to know that this was a good sign.
I made the quick drive over to the office park (even picked up groceries on the way). I parked near the target location but decided to take a walking tour of the complex to scope out the other candidates that I had nixed. They all looked identically nondescript. Office complex issued door, tasteful brass sign. The only tells were the consumer grade security cameras in the windows and above the doors. I made my way back toward the massage parlor I had selected, opened the door, stepped in to the vestibule, and opened the inner door to see a hallway in front of me and a washer/dryer to my right. I didn't feel like I was meant to be there by myself so I stepped back out and noticed the wireless doorbell placed on the doorframe. Rang the bell and a few seconds the door cracked and a little head popped out to greet me with a smile. She ushered me back to the last room on the left and asked how long I'd like to stay. I had an idea of the room the room rates from rubmaps (too cheap to pay the subscription to see all the reviews and details) which proved accurate. $60/hh, $80/h. I opted for 30 mins massage. The masseuse waved at me to remove my clothes and continued tidying up before scurrying out the door.
At this point I was confident though not 100% certain that I was in the kind of place I was seeking but since there was no towel or blanket on the bed to drape myself I left my shorts on. The masseuse bustled back in to finish setting up the bed and invited me to lay face down. She covered me with a warmed blanket and, noticing my cold hands, wrapped two of the stones they use for hot stone massage in small towels and placed them in my hands. I found that consideration quite endearing. She jumped right into the massage. I'm used to the "Do you have areas of tension?", "What kind of pressure do you like?", yada yada yada preamble from the few occasions I've gotten massages so the immediate start caught me slightly off guard, especially as she started at my feet. As she worked her way up from my feet to my calves and hamstrings I started to think I may have been mistaken about the type of place I had selected because the massage was actually... really good? My confidence returned a bit as her hands made their way further up my inner thigh and up the leg hole of my shorts a bit. This is what I've come to think of as the "plausible deniability" phase. Then the surprise. A foot... on my ass. More specifically my glutes then my hamstrings. I hadn't even noticed the bars attached to the ceiling for just this purpose. It was great! She was able to release some much tension from the muscles.
After thoroughly stomping my ass she moved her focus to my back. The back massage was ok but not nearly as effective as her work on my legs. After a bit she asked me to turn over and let me know that our time was up. For a moment I thought that I had in fact misjudged the place until she whispered that she could still finish up with a hand job, accompanied by the universal sign for the act. I nodded my assent. She grabbed a pump bottle of lube (not to be confused with the hand sanitizer), guided my hand under her shirt to her tit, lubed me up and went to work. I was surprised that there was no discussion or exchange of a tip before she got started. She applied her extremely skilled and lubed hands to my cock and ball and finished me off in short order. I don't think my balls have ever been so empty as after her service. She absolutely drained me then cleaned me up with a hot towel. I got up, dressed, dropped a tip on the side table, and she ushered me out (practically pushing me out the door while chatting amicably, complimenting me, and insisting that I return again soon). I don't know how often I'll try an alternative to a SC like this but it is dangerously appealing. No competing for time with your top prospects, no dodging that one dancer who annoys the shit out of you, no worry about cleanup in the men's room. Just a nice massage plus a bit more and all the expense goes toward the services provided.
