Ohh, that's the spot!

So a friend was recently telling me a little story about a physio session that turned into something else all together. Seems that a little inner thigh rub got upgraded to a full chow down on the cha-cha.

It got me thinking. Actually it got me hard which then got me thinking...

Earlier tonight I was wandering around the local shopping centre with the image in my head of her lying back on the massage table with one of those little towels that really are more like spunk rags than anything useful for covering your modesty. It was no wonder things got out of hand, she is a babe.

Anyhow, I have a big weekend of physical activity ahead of me and my back had given a little twinge today. The more I thought about her massage with a happy ending the more I figured I should at least get my back seen to, after all, if it could happen to her why not me?

I first found one of those little bunch of Asian masseuse dudes that set up in the middle of the shopping centre. While being watched does not worry me, I figured the chance of a random upgrade in service was not likely to happen while the general public wandered about doing their shopping. There was also the small issue that they were all dudes. Really not my thing.

A little further on I found what I was looking for. A massage shop! Inner health, physical healing, acupuncture. By now my back was screaming for some loving and the cute girl at the counter had me hooked. $30 for half an hour of back and neck massage - fantastic! Hope she has strong hands to go with those eyes.

With demure little smile she led me off to a suitably dark room with massage table, oils and bottles of crazy Chinese herbs. Even one of those little towels. Looking good.

Next thing I know a little old man who looks like some wise old kung foo master appears in her place. He gives me a funny look and I instantly guess that it was his daughter who showed me into the room. My look of disappointment obviously betrays me. He returns a look that simply says "Your fucked for even thinking it mate!"

I lie down and prepare to meet my maker. The little fucker has fingers of steel and a grip strength that could squash a golf ball. I can feel the tendons in my back being lifted from the bone, every muscle fibre is individually separated and re-aligned, in some cases it feels like he is reconfiguring the whole lot in an effort to out do evolution. My arms get twisted so far around my body that I am convinced I will leave looking like bloody pretzel.

The creaks and groans are truly alarming but I am not going to scream or tap out. I will not submit!

In terror I have forgotten all the naughty thoughts that were there while making the booking.

With that odd slapping thing they do with the cupped hands ringing out like thunder I know that it is nearly over. I have survived. I just hope I can still walk.

It all goes quiet and his face appears beside mine with a wry little grin as he asks if it was strong enough? Yeah tops, good job mate, lets see if I can stand?.

I slide off the table and stand up, so far so good. A little ginger lean and twist and bugger me if I don't feel about 6 inches taller without a single twinge to be felt in my back.

He smiles at me again knowingly - you come back some time?

Hell yeah!

Full service?

Whooha, hang on WTF is full service...