Erotic Massage
On one visit to India I stayed for six months and while I was there I studied massage therapy with an Ayurvedic doctor. I found the technique to be quite amazing and rejuvenating. Two women would pour hot oil down my spine and then both would rub simultaneously as I drifted into a trance-like state. They used pressure along the meridian lines to calm the nerves and pushed the fluid up and down the spinal column. They oiled and rubbed the joints to keep movement elastic. They pushed the lymph fluid throughout the body to strengthen the immune system. They did reflexology on my hands and feet and finally, they worked my neck, my head and my face until I felt the Gods had showered me with a sandalwood oil bath and kissed me with pearls as they finished the massage. The doctor there actually made his own oil using herbs, sandalwood and yes, pearls. I studied with this doctor and his assistants for six months and then headed back to the US.
I didn’t think I could really make any money doing massage, so I didn’t try. When I returned from India I worked for a friend as a Consultant for her catering company. I worked in the restaurant and food service business for 21 years so I had no doubt I could do it with excellence. Trouble was, after about one year, she decided it was too much work and not enough money. I could have told her that from the beginning, in fact, I think I did. So I started looking for a job. My experience was in food service, property management, photography, publishing, flower arranging and sales but I could not get a job. By this time I was 52 years old and was competing with 35 year olds for the same job. I didn’t get it. I was smart, attractive, well spoken, experienced and well dressed but I could not get a decent job. So I thought, I may as well try to do massage.
I borrowed my roommate’s massage table and set it up in my room located outside of the main house in a small cottage, the perfect size for a single bed, a small bistro table, a counter with a sink, room for oils, etc., a nice window for lighting, a massage table and a bathroom. I put an ad on Craigslist and my life changed forever! And I mean changed! Men, men, men! My phone was ringing 15 times a day. I thought I would offer a cheap massage because I didn’t have any massage experience, but what I did have was the experience of age. Why not take advantage of what I was and be proud of it? I thought. So I advertised as a “Mature Masseuse” and holy shit, men of all ages were calling me. At the time, younger men were curious about the ‘older woman’. They were right to be curious because experience in all areas is good thing.
My first client was a metro sexual guy. He had painted toenails and shaved legs. Nice guy, got a hard-on but I simply laughed to myself and ignored it. I also massaged women. They were nice, but didn’t call as often. One lady I massaged, a nurse, appeared to be stoned, in another zone. As I massaged her, I noticed marks on her arm and realized they were from needles. It was humbling to be so close to the reality of people’s pain and their need to escape and it came in many forms. I did my best to give her a very relaxing massage and from time to time spoke very sweetly to her. Another woman I massaged was on leave from the army. Sorry, I forget the fucking conflict the United States was in at the time. But she talked about her experiences, her father, who was also in the army and finally the horror of Guantanamo, where she was stationed. As she talked I understood one of the worst things she experienced was the treatment from her own fellow soldiers. She was raped and harassed and the fire of her enthusiasm completely left her, she explained. As I massaged her, she expressed she was “keeping her chin up and finishing her commitment.” Although she was cheerful on that day, I could feel her pain as well as the pain of the nurse. She returned around three more times and then I never saw her again.
It was interesting being a massage therapist, because a therapist would actually be the correct word. Not only was I drenching these thirsty bodies in hot oil and pushing lymph fluid, strengthening the immune system while working along meridian lines to calm nerves, I was listening to their painful stories and my heart was feeling the pain right along with them. I spoke softly so as not to disturb their peaceful massage and when the massage was over, I gently kissed them on the forehead and said, “We’re done.” Without knowing what I was getting into when I started this profession, I found I was actually following my true nature as a compassionate therapist. As I look back on the profession, I could see my life was actually geared towards service to others. I owned and operated a vegetarian food service business for twenty-one years in Colorado, constantly considering the needs of others. I worked in property management as a leasing agent and manager, helping people to find a home. Now doing massage, it was a good feeling to know I was once again helping others. My heart swelled with the feeling of self satisfaction and I was understanding my real career path in life. I would never be wealthy, but I would be happy serving others.
As I started massaging, however, I was beginning to notice a trend. Daily men were trying to get me to give them a happy ending. I refused to do it. I was paying my rent, going to yoga classes daily and gradually realizing I could make a living at this. I did not need to do anything else. Life was starting to get good again as my children were now grown and I was on my own with some money. I raised my prices to the normal rate for hourly massage and was doing anywhere from three to five massages a day. I paid off some debts from my period of time being unemployed and bought myself some new linen clothing, in the relaxed style I preferred which was very expensive. I put flowers on my table every day and was feeling all right. (Sounds like a Joe Cocker song, right?)
But, those hungry men kept asking for something ‘extra’ at the end of a massage when their penis was hard as a rock and they wanted to explode. I stood my ground and would not touch their genitals. I was shocked and embarrassed that a man would even ask me to do such a thing. “No way,” I would say. “If you have got to take care of yourself, go in the bathroom and have at it but just please clean up after yourself.” No one wanted to do that. They insisted I should do it. Some of those same men returned time and again and each time I refused. Then after about six months, I began to understand why many women left the profession. I was ready to leave it too, but I couldn’t get a job and even if I did, I was used to living on much more than an hourly wage, having run my own business for at least 21 years. Then one day one of my regular clients pulled out $120 and laid it on my massage table saying, “Please, I just need someone to touch me. It’s been so long. I’m divorced and have small children and I am not ready to get into a committed relationship bringing someone else into my children’s life right now. They are already traumatized.”
The truth was, I did not know how to give a hand job. I gave pretty good blow jobs, I was told, but I had never given a hand job. I put these men off and refused to do the deed for six months, but this time I became calm within myself and thought, I’m old enough to do this. I’m now 54 and have no boyfriend and the truth is that I don’t really care. It’s just a dick and it’s not like I haven’t seen my share. By that time in my life I had already been in six long-term relationships with a few rendezvous in-between and had no problem with dicks. Actually, I was quite fond of them! So what’s the big deal? Just get the cash, try it and see how you feel afterwards, I thought. So I did. Very sweetly I told that first man, “Look, I don’t know how to give a hand job. If you show me, I’ll do it.” He agreed and that was that. My first hand job was done and really it wasn’t any big deal. I didn’t get excited. It was just like being a therapist to the very end. But men think very differently and here I have some stories to tell, but that will come a little later.
Guys were willing to pay lots of money for that stuff! I was regularly getting a good amount of cash for a massage with a happy ending and sometimes I got rather large tips on top of that. I was convinced God didn’t care what I did for money as long as I didn’t hurt anyone. As my spiritual master said, He only wants your heart. With my age, 54 at the time, I was pretty sure I would not fall in love again, either, so I was not looking for a relationship with any of these guys. I was still attractive, but men my age were looking at younger women anyway, so what the hell? I was ok with my decision to go ahead and make some money.
Just as I was beginning to add the happy ending to my therapeutic massage, I tuned in to Showtime on TV where I saw two women doing a Hand Job Seminar for a group of about six women. They were all seated in a circle around a table with six dildos on top, complete with balls. All the women looked well-groomed, respectable and innocent, ready to learn how to please their boyfriends and husbands, or at least I thought that was the scene. Stupid me! The teachers, both beautiful ladies, stroked and pulled and tickled and squeezed as they showed how to make a man cum with your hands. I was so naive I couldn’t believe it. I never knew massage was associated with sex in any way. But evidently it was. So I began to put my knowledge to work and men were benefiting from my hands. Before long I was doing very good and my financial troubles were gone. I did, however, run into some very different types of men and some very strange types of behavior.
Here are some stories. No need to judge. Just enjoy! One day a nice looking, well-dressed man showed up in a suit and asked if he could take off his clothes in the bathroom. I said, “Sure. Would you like a towel?” He said, “No, I’ll be fine.” When he came out he was wearing around $400 worth of ivory satin lingerie, including silk stockings! My mouth gaping open, I said, “OK, that’s beautiful, but what do you want me to do?” “Oh nothing much,” he said, “maybe you could just take it off of me, one piece at a time as you massage me.” He laid $200 on the table. Thinking that it was a pretty harmless request, I agreed, and there was no problem. He didn’t try to hurt or molest me, he was just in to his lingerie. As he left, I asked what he did for a living and he said, “I own an auto parts store. Sometimes I wear the lingerie to work and no one ever knows.” Guess he’s not going to communal bathrooms, I thought, but I laughed inside. You never know who you’re working with or living next door to.
After some time I began to have nicknames for some of the guys. ‘Wiggly Butt’ was one. I started off each massage with a back rub, then arms and down to the buttocks. Sometimes it got weird. Men would start gyrating their butts, moving them around and up and down until I couldn’t do the massage. At one point I walked around to look at one man’s face and said, “What the hell are you doing?” “You don’t like it?” he said. “No, you look ridiculous and I can’t massage when you’re moving all over the place.” But the poor guy couldn’t stop himself. So, I got him off and got him out of there as soon as possible. But the sad thing was that this was a definite trend with some men. Some did it a little and some did it a lot. I hated it! They looked absolutely ridiculous and I didn’t want any part of it, but I tolerated, usually making some comment like, “Could you not wiggle your butt so much, please.” Doubt that any of those guys became regulars because I was plainly annoyed. Afterwards when it happened, I’d just think to myself, “Oh God, another wiggly butt!” What I didn’t realize at first, but later began to understand was that the men who did that could have cared less for the massage. (Well, not all, but most.) They just wanted some sort of sexual release. So I simply relaxed, because everyone has their ‘thing,’ but I found the wiggling very difficult to deal with and that was my ‘thing.’
There were lots of strange happenings, not bad, just strange. Some guys had dicks that curved out instead of in. Some guys were extremely hairy. Some revealed big moles that needed to be removed. Some were fat and some were skinny. Some exposed their very little dicks but most men were just kind of normal. Most all of them thought that getting them off excited me, but I was just doing the job. Men didn’t understand. What turns a woman on is a kiss behind the neck or some sweet compliments, not the size or shape of their dick, although that doesn’t hurt. Size does matter. So guys, I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but you’ve been watching way too much porn if you think a simple massage therapist is like the ones you see on your pornography station.
The hardest part of the job was a client with ED, Erectile Dysfunction. Geez, I had to learn to work miracles! And these guys ranged in age, too! I definitely saw a number of 40 year-old clients with ED. Not sure what that was about. I think some of it was steroid use, guys with lots of muscle but tiny dicks. Men getting a divorce or horrific troubles at home often experienced difficulty getting it up. Some problems came with low self esteem and I felt so bad for those men. Other problems were because of diabetes or some health issue.
While in this business I paid attention to anything online or on the news concerning men’s erectile problems. Studies found 40% of men in their 40’s have it, along with 50% of men in their 50’s and 60% of men in their sixties, all of them showing symptoms in varied degrees. I’ve sure seen my share of it. But I’ve also seen 75 year old men who were hard as a rock and they said they took no help from Viagra or anything else. I saw one client who had a penal implant. He pumped it up with some sort of attachment before he arrived and let it down after his orgasm. He didn’t have any fluid either. But before he told me I said, “Your cock is as hard as a bone. I have never seen a cock like yours!” “It’s a penile implant,” he said. Oh, I thought, ok, if that works, why not?
I learned to deal quite well with ED, but it takes lots of energy and effort to help these men. I definitely worked for my money. In order to get the blood flowing into the dick, you need to hold the base like a ring with your thumb and forefinger, as you gently apply pressure. You can stroke it firmly with oil from bottom to top slowly swirling your hand so your client will relax and trust you. Gradually, gradually, you can increase the pressure and finally you can increase the speed as he gets harder. Most men like their balls played with, although I have met some who did not. One thing I learned from the Showtime Seminar was when a man cums, his balls will be drawn up and he will become tight in his scrotum. So, a technique to help him get hard is to gently do this for him. You squeeze his balls together and push them up. Mostly, with these men, you just need to be patient. Its hard as hell to turn a limp dick into a hard-one.
And women, be careful! You think you’d like an older man, but if you like a lot of sex, maybe you should re-think that decision. I have talked to so many men who were on my table, there is something I KNOW for sure! Older men want blow jobs or they want you to be on top doing all the work. So, if you’re in to older men for the money, maybe you don’t care, but if you’re looking for a true partnership, maybe you should re-think it. Personally I liked to get pounded! And these older guys are too lazy to pound you and pump you, or they are just too tired. So, you guessed it, I was interested in younger men!
Erectile Dysfunction is real. I called it God’s cruel joke. A man desires sex until the day he dies, but can’t get it up. A woman doesn’t really desire it much in old age but can get slippery wet in a moments notice, if treated right. I was convinced it was simply God’s Cruel Joke! And maybe there is a reason men get ED. My thought, although I never took the position to educate the men, was that the very best thing a man could do would be to withhold his semen so it could rise to the pineal gland and nourish his consciousness, as described in Tantra yoga. Thus he could have a lot of sex, building his strength, but only releasing his semen once or twice a month. “The simple principle of tantra yoga is: whatever can take you down can also take you up. The way a man usually sinks in his life is through food, alcoholic drink and sexuality. Tantra yoga uses the same three vehicles to help a man’s energy rise up. Unlike sexuality, which tends to find release at the lower level of the energy system, tantra is about building energies to the fountain-head of the uppermost dimension of the energy system, so one’s energies spill from the top.” Isha Foundation website.
Take you down? Ok, that’s funny! Moving away from erectile dysfunction and on to something else, there was still much to say. Men usually all said the same things to me like, “What gets you excited?” or “I like seeing your ass.” Or, “Why don’t you want me to touch you?” or “Does this turn you on, when you’re rubbing men?” or “Do you like my dick?” or “Why don’t you let me massage you?” I get it with men. They’ve been watching lots of porn and hoping to have a similar experience. God created men to think that we think like they do. But we don’t. I understood their dicks got hard many times during a day (that is for those who could get hard). And women’s bodies are the absolute symbol of sex with curvy hips, hard nipples and that soft sweet vagina hidden beneath their skirts. Guys just can’t get enough. Even just looking at pictures or movies does it for them. So, they think we also get excited in the same way they do. We don’t! I didn’t. As I said earlier, shower me with compliments, show a real interest in me, kiss the back of my neck, stare in my eyes, tell me how pretty I am and you pretty much got me, at least for the moment. That was how I felt. Just seeing your body didn’t do it for me or any woman, for that matter. Of course, a nice body is good and much better for sex, but I would never have married a man just for his body. And in reverse, I learned that most men preferred a woman’s body over her face, if given a choice. I was learning a lot!
While doing Erotic massage I thought I would also do some Erotic Photography. Well, why not? I was already doing erotic massage and I found I was very creative with a camera. I loved photography and putting together a studio with four different backdrops and different props was fun and exciting. I used the studio for both massage and photography and did quite well. On one wall, I placed a mirror with a small but beautiful flower arrangement and a lamp so I could take pictures of people looking at themselves in the mirror. Another wall was a window with curtains and blinds I could open or close. Still another was a burgundy red backdrop and a tie-dyed blue backdrop and the last wall was simply white. I also bought a beautiful espresso-colored leather club chair with an ottoman where I worked on my laptop when I didn’t have a client and used as a prop for photos when I did.
I thought I would mostly be photographing women in lingerie for their husbands, and I did, often, but little ole naive me didn’t have a clue what was in store for her. Most of my clients were either prostitutes or cross dressers. The prostitutes and dancers were easy. They knew how they wanted to pose as well as how to make themselves look good and I moved them and posed them and put them in just the right lighting. The cross dressers were fun because they would bring two to three different outfits and use all my backdrops and props having the time of their life! After all, who can they show off to? They needed an audience and I provided both the safe audience and the photos.
Then there were the, you know, not really exhibitionists, but guys who wanted great naked pictures of themselves and their parts. Well, maybe they were exhibitionists. I told them to bring a hat or scarf and some sunglasses or a nice wine glass for props. They loved it! More than anything, I think the guys were simply doing it for the experience and some even came back for a second and third shooting! After the shoot, I downloaded the photos to my computer, burned them a disk and then erased them from my computer. If I wanted to use someone on my website, I got their permission in writing. Not perfect, but good enough!
I’ve got to admit it was fun! I never knew what to expect, for sure, but all of the guys were very respectful to me. Maybe it was because I was in an exclusive office building in an exclusive part of Los Angeles and they expected the best and they got it. So I had both men and women photography clients and men massage clients and they were all willing to pay. I was having fun, making money and being a therapist at the same time.
Men talked to me a lot. I was actually a good therapist. They basically told me about their sexual fantasies and the problems with their relationships. Younger guys in their thirties would talk about the type of women who were available in the twenty-first century, saying they were shallow and mostly only cared about how much money you made. One guy told me he was very wealthy, but purposely acted as if he were average just to check to see what kind of woman he was dealing with. What has become perverted, is that a woman is naturally a caregiver and a child-bearer and she needs to know that she will be taken care of if she gets pregnant. She has to sell herself, in a way, to find the type of man who will take care of her if she has sex with him. Actually, this seems almost unconscious on the women’s part and naturally intrinsic. And times were different. With smart phones and the internet , both sexes changed, some for good and some for the worse. From doing massage, my advice to women is to be honest. If you meet a guy you like, tell him your likes and fears, not on the first date perhaps, but most of all don’t try to fool him. If he is smart, he will see right through you, and don’t just go around looking for someone to live through vicariously, but instead get your life on and be proud of what you do and who you are. You can’t do anything about the current culture we live in where men are afraid to commit. You really can’t blame them. If they put everything into a marriage, they lose half when they divorce. Of course you lose too. Everyone loses.
And my dear sisters, if you have been married for 30 years, then good for you. You are doing better than most. You’ve managed to get through the tough times and you’re still married. If you don’t want to have sex anymore but you still love him, for God’s sake, help him out! Give your man a blow job! What the hell? He will never give up the desire for that extra special feeling. If you do not, he will eventually seek out an escort or a massage therapist, or worse, have an affair. Now, if you don’t care, ok, but if you don’t want another woman taking care of his needs, then take a deep breath, try to understand and make him happy! He loves you and believe me, that’s ALL he wants. Well, except maybe a good meal.
I didn’t mind Erotic Massage, but I didn’t want to make a career out of it. I felt the same about Erotic Photography. What I really wanted was to get back into another relationship and another career. I was lonely now. My children were grown and I was alone. I made a few friends who also liked jazz and were philosophically minded. I learned to go to Happy Hour and talk to strangers while I drank my wine and ate a light dinner. I was practicing yoga on a regular basis, except when I was too hung over. Wine was becoming my best friend.
I didn’t want to have sex with any of my clients cause that would make me *@*# a prostitute? But I hadn’t been with a man in around seven years and my body and soul were starting to beg for attention. What could I do? You can’t force a relationship and I was just not the type to have sex some guy I wasn’t attracted to. I tried, but at the last minute I would make up some excuse and, yes, I would escape! I almost got raped by one guy, having lead him a little too far, so I decided to cool it and wait for the right person to come along. But how long could I wait?