Monday, July 16, 2007

I? Am a ho.

In the on-going 'applying for massage school' saga, I am required to have had two professional massages within the last year. Friday I had my second.

I called a local day spa that afternoon to set up an appointment. I am not One Who Patiently Waits. I requested the first available session. "I can give you an appointment this evening," the receptionist told me, "would you be okay with a male massage therapist?"

I was game. I'm funny about other people touching me, but if I go through with this school thing, I am going to spend most of a year, mostly naked, getting all touchy-feely with both women and men. I might as well get used to this.

Enter Jeremiah. Ruggedly handsome, 30-year-old Jeremiah.

We chatted a little--mostly formalities (J: Any specific reason you need a massage today? Me: Yes. I have children . . . ) And Jeremiah went to work on me.

It was feeling good. I was relaxing into it. And then his hands started working on my lower back. I've had one professional, and several non-professional, massages from women, but this felt different. His large, manly hands on the small of my back, working out laterally halfway round my waist . . . I shouldn't have been thinking it--let alone feeling it--but there was something so sensual about what he was doing.

I remembered to tell you that Jeremiah is gay, right? Yeah. I'm evidently such a ho for intimate masculine touch that it matters not from whence it comes . . .

9 comments:

Storybook Woods said...

Kristin, I am off to take a cold shower. No wait hubby is coming up the drive way, literally !!!
xoxoxo Clarice

Rick said...

I volunteer to give you the next one! I am not gay!

CheekierMeSly said...

LOL! I've had a thing for Drakkar cologne since I was 16 and my long distance beau drenched his letters in the stuff.

Fast forward to freshman year of college and my drunken knee re-injury. The dapperly dressed hospital volunteer with the golf umbrella helping me as I gingerly navigate across a rainy way to X-ray was bathed in a warm Drakkar glow. Muscular. Black. FINE. Incredible bum. One of our university's best ballet dancers, and gay as the day is long.

Didn't stop me from sniffing him and telling him that he sniffed good.

Kristin said...

Hey great, Clarice--a two-for-one! Both my husband and yours got the happy benefit of my massage experience ; )

thanks for the offer, Rick : ) And not only the gay thing, but Jeremiah didn't come anywhere near my strict height requirement!

Cheek, that's too funny : ) Back in the day when Mr. Pid and I went to the same high school, the cologne du jour was Ralph Lauren's Polo. Ten years after high school a girlfriend and I were at a mall when a guy walked by exuding that wonderful old scent. Friend and I both stopped in our tracks and turned to sniff the air after he passed us. I am a slave to the powers of both touch and smell!

whitenoise said...

Feeling left out...never had a massage. Guess I should take the plunge, eh? ;-)

Great story, Kristin. Look forward to the next installment.

Kuckie said...

Kristin...I've been through massage school and started my own business. If you are in need of any info, let me know. Happy to help!

Love the story...I'm like you, I'll take a good massage from just about anyone!

Kristin said...

Hey, Whitenoise, I could call Jeremiah and set up an appointment for you? He does this great thing with the lower back ; )

Thanks, Kuckie--I might have questions later.

ajooja said...

I don't know if you looked at my 100 things, but I was a certified massage therapist.

(I let my license lapse when I got back into my current career path.)

Everything was always non-sexual, except for a couple of times when I practiced on my wife. ;)

Of all the others I massaged, there were probably only two women who I would have given "special treatment." Even then, I was very professional.

For the most part, it doesn't matter if the giver or receiver is male/female/gay/straight for me.

whitenoise said...

Kristin- check your email.