A Short Story – The Masseuse

Waiting for the masseuse

Waiting for the masseuse

She worked quietly with a soft sound of ocean and music as background as she worked her hands over the back of the lady who lay on the table. She was turning forty-one in two months and she was still single, something she couldn’t quite understand. She had been working as a masseuse for just over twenty years in this small town. Her home was in a smaller town about an hour and a half away. Her parents still lived there. She went to her parent’s home as often as possible, usually every week-end. It was a quiet life and very comforting in its routines and expectations of her.

Years earlier she had dreamed of a husband and children, having her own family like her brothers had been able to do. For whatever reason, that dream never became more than a dream. It wasn’t because she was unattractive though no one could accuse her of being pretty or beautiful.  She was verging on the side of being plain in appearance. She was a strong woman, a professional woman. ‘Perhaps,’ she thought, ‘that was the problem’.

She just didn’t need anyone. She’d like to have a family, but it wasn’t something that made her feel bitter for not having turned into a reality. Thankfully her parents were satisfied with the grandchildren her brothers had given them. The pressure had been taken off her shoulders now that there were grandchildren to continue the family line.

Taking a cloth laying on the shelf beside her, she wiped the oil off her client’s buttocks and back before beginning to work on the upper and lower legs. Her patient had been coming regularly for the past fifteen years to deal with lower back and knee pain. She then applied more oil to her hands once again apologising for the coolness as she began to apply the oil to the back of the legs.

As she worked, a conversation between the woman and herself continued, a conversation with little really being said other than the small details of how both women had filled their lives. The woman talked about a birthday for her mother who was turning seventy-one and the small party she was going to have for her mother. The masseuse responded with murmurs of affirmation that let her client know she was listening with interest though she would have been hard pressed to recall what had actually been said. When it was her turn, she told of the plans to make granola bars for her uncle’s birthday, five dozen bars as her uncle was turning sixty. Of course, she intended on making more granola bars as she wanted to have some for herself.

The hour quickly passed with the small talk periodically interrupting the soft music that had shifted to gentle Celtic songs by Enya. Giving her client a receipt, she smiled a good-bye as her client left with a promise to return in a month’s time. She spent the next few minutes preparing the table for her next client who was waiting in the front of the office that was shared by a chiropractor.

Her next client was a man who was almost as old as her father, well perhaps not that old, but he definitely was over sixty-five because he was a retired pensioner. Unlike the other times when she prepared the table for a client, no draping sheet was placed on it. Her client was a naturist and was comfortable without a sheet to protect his dignity. He had been coming to her for pain in his hips, especially his right hip. With the arrangements in place, she left her small room to invite her next client in for his hour of treatment.

“Hi! Is there any new pain that I should be aware of? She asked as she greeted him at the door, “Or is it just the usual today?”

“It’s still this right hip though I do feel some extra tightness in my left thigh,” he answered as he smiled at her. “I must’ve lifted too many garden bricks,” he added as an afterthought. “My wife has decided to redo the rose garden again. Oh, and my lower back is a bit sore as well.”

“Okay,” she acknowledged. “I’ll check them out.”

She left the room to give him privacy as he undressed and got onto the table. She always gave her clients that moment of privacy to prepare themselves for their session with her. With his clothes neatly folded on the chair beside the massage table, he placed himself on it making sure that his head was positioned correctly on the opening as he lay face down. There was a momentary sense of coolness as he lay on the table without a draping sheet, waiting for her to come in.

She opened the door only part ways since she didn’t want to expose her client to the eyes of a passing client or worker in the clinic. Sliding in quickly, she then closed the door.

“This is going to feel cooler than usual,” she said as she tried warming the oil in her palms before touching him. “It’s not my hands, it’s the oil which I forgot to put away last night. I didn’t expect the weather to turn colder.”

“Not a problem,” he replied. “You know me, cold is not too much of an issue. You can’t be a naturist in Canada and not have developed tough skin.”

Working her hands lightly over his buttocks to begin spreading the oil, she gradually worked the moisture upwards to cover his lower back before beginning the work of focusing attention on his right buttock and hip. Normally she would be working the same area as is she was blind with a draping sheet forcing her to rely solely on touch. With him, she saw the ripples on muscles in his buttocks. She also saw more than just his buttocks as she worked patiently and precisely feeling the presence of knots and tightness. She saw the darker ring of skin that highlighted his anus. At times she would rest her opposing hand on his buttocks covering his anus as she worked the muscles and sinews.

She pushed and prodded the outer side of his hip with both hands before working the inner face of his right cheek with both hands. His scrotum was visible as well as the tip of his penis as she worked. She noticed them then returned her focus to her work. Eventually she worked on his lower back then moved on to work on his upper back and shoulder. She repeated the process on his left side before wiping the excess oil off and turning her attention to his legs.

Her strength was evident as she worked the outer edges of his quads, and her gentleness was highlighted as she worked the inner thigh muscles with sure hands that necessarily brushed his scrotums. As she worked, he briefly came out of a lulled consciousness as her fingers lightly brushed past his testicles. For an instant only as the music and the innocence of her touch lulled him back to a tranquil place.

With his backside now finished, he arched his body so that she could remove the functional pillows under his legs and abdomen. Then, he turned over to lay on his back. His member took its position pointing to the left side of his body. He was hairless on his genital region and his skin was the same colour, a deep copper colour, as the rest of his body with the exception of the shaft and testicles which were a darker hue. It was very evident that he had spent many hours in the outdoors while nude. She had seen him naked almost monthly for most of the five years he had been coming and was still surprised at the lack of tan lines. Only her arms and legs had ever seen the sun for as long as she could remember. She wondered what it would feel like to feel the air and sun over her whole body.

She noted his he relaxed penis resting on the edge of his left hip. The truth was that his was the only penis she had ever seen besides her little nephews’ when they were babies. She was well aware of how the rest of her male clients were very self-conscious of their genitals as they tightened up when she came close to them as she worked. She avoided contact even though the men were discretely draped and still had on their undergarments. The last thing she wanted was to make her clients uncomfortable. Their discomfort amplified her own discomfort. With this male client it was different.

Again, she applied oil to her warm hands and began working with his left hip rather than the right hip which she normally did when he came for his regular massage treatments. His complaint about pain suggested that she might have to do more work on that left side. So, rather than risk not doing what needed to be done because she ran out of time, she broke off with her usual pattern.

She applied the oil, first to the top of his hip and groin area working from the outside in. She worked the outer muscles and the ligaments that began at the hip to work her way down his thigh, slowly working her fingers to slide under his shaft to eventually reach his inner thigh. He felt her touch on his penis. He felt the merest touch of the back of her hand as he relaxed. There was a difference between her non-sexual touch and that of his wife. He knew that this touch was not about sexual gratification, but about function.

As she continued working the inner thigh, feeling the tension and tightness of the muscles, she would look at his penis from time to time noticing that his penis didn’t respond very much to her touch. She noted that he didn’t tighten up as she worked this sensitive area. He was so different from the other men who tightened when she came too near their genitals. In spite of her respecting their discomfort and keeping cloth between her touch and their body

Her fingers reached inside his thigh to put pressure on the inner ligaments, a process that movement that saw rest on top of her hand as she searched for the tell-tale strain that had been responsible for his pain. He vaguely felt the rhythmic movement of her hand beneath his penis as his mind wandered to places that the music invoked. He saw her remove her hand only to wipe off a bit of emission that had wet the top of her hand. He always had wet her hand with emissions a matter of his age as much as anything else in his opinion.

When she shifted to work on his right side, her attention returned to occasional glances at his penis though her hand didn’t touch it anymore. Her work was drawn out longer than usual as she worked. He was her last client of the day and there was no rush to finish the session before she had completed her work.

Finally, she finished and let him know that he could get dressed while she left the room to wash her hands. She returned while he was putting on his socks, the final item of clothing. He stood and took out his wallet to give her the fee for the day’s session. She had worked an extra half hour and he had no qualms about paying for that extra time. With the receipt put away into his wallet, the two of them hugged as goodbyes were spoken. He felt better, much better than when he had come in. And then he left.

She removed the sheet that he had lain on for the massage and began gathering her things together to take home. She decided that the sheets would wait until after she had eaten her supper as she left the office a bit later than normal. There was no real rush as she would be alone as usual in the evening. She thought back to her second last client of the day who had asked her what her dreams were. She had no dreams to tell. She couldn’t allow dreams to intrude and make her regret her life as she lived it. She had a good life even if it was a simple life.

Yet, she knew that there was one dream that had been nudged a bit with her last client. He trusted her and didn’t take her touch as anything more than it was. She wondered if perhaps she could feel the same ease as he felt when it came to her body. She also entertained a wistful thought that maybe, just maybe, she could find a husband who she could trust. Yet, she knew her limits, perhaps more of a prison than limits.

She left her office with a plan to return again to the office the next morning for a ten o’clock appointment.

 

One thought on “A Short Story – The Masseuse

  1. While my wife is not a masseuse, she does perform what is referred to as an aromatouch technique using essential oils. She always recommends that the best result is achieved if the client is nude and draped, plus eliminates the possibility of getting oils on the clothing. This primarily involves the the shoulders, back and lower back. However she does often extend it to a full body massage. With male clients, Incidental touching of the penis and scrotum are inevitable. This often does result in a non offensive erection by the male client. After the body massage has been finished she has on occasion depending on her relationship with the client, added extra oil to her hand and slowly massaged the swollen member until it has been relieved of it’s tension. The result is total relaxation, stress relieved and a feeling euphoria for the client. For the wife a feeling of knowing she has contributed to making that person’s life better, healthier and happier brings great satisfaction.

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