By Henry K. Otafiire
A few years ago at University, I developed unusual acute general body breakdown. Sort of fatigue. On advice of my roommate, a masseur was the only option that would give me instant relief I baldy needed.
I collected my paining skinny body and headed straight to Club 5 a popular hangout for students and corporates at Makerere Law School.
I reached at the reception and inquired how much I needed to get a massage. I then paid and headed straight to the changing room. Being new to massage and spa experiences, I had no idea how it would turn out. What I was aware at least I would relieve my body and feel rejuvenated.
After removing my clothes left with my boxers, I threw my skeletal body and lied helplessly on the bed where I was going to get my treatment. A young light skinned woman who looked to be clocking her late 20s sprung into the room.
She was dressed in a transparent gown that the nipples were greeting me immediately I turned to look at her. Shocked and confused, I innocently asked if it was possible to give me a man to work on me. She quickly informed that it was company policy that every client is worked on by the opposite sex. That’s when I remembered the popular verse in the Bible which read “The devil plowls like a roaring lion ready to devour someone”.
I must confess despite my fears, the room was a relaxing sight. There were mild light of 2–3 candles placed in the corners of the bed, soothing fragrance of aromatic oils and pleasant music playing slowly. She was busy heating some oils on a heater.
She came to me and asked me to rest my head on one of the comfortable pillows. The long light gown she was wearing was slippery that it would tickle me the moment it touched my body. I was asked to sit on the mattress in a meditative pose facing her. I placed my palms against hers and breathed in deeply, falling in sync.
We then got on our knees and embraced in a tight warm hug. It was so close that our chests were aligned and I could feel her heartbeat on my skin. We were doing body to body. That was the best technique she recommended for my badly needed relief. I obliged without question just like any coperative patient.
During meditation, my arousal increased. But we stayed in embrace, she only let go when she felt that my arousal was dying. She placed her hand on my heart and after a few minutes she moved downstairs. She undid her gown and asked me to slowly lean back onto her. I lay there rested with my back on her breasts and her hands on my heart. They were unbelievably warm!
she started running her finger tips in ziz zag manner on my shoulders, chest and along the arms, giving me minor arousals but they ceased every time I remembered Jesus’ crucifixion on the cross. I was now on her back, with her fingers running along my torso, chest, legs and arm giving me tingling sensations, goosebumps and ecstasy at the same time.
Next, she got the oil and started from the soles of my feet with deep pressure and went up till my chest. Her movements were precise and uniformly strong, a usual sense of relaxation was dawning on my muscles now. For a moment, I thought I was in heaven.
Then she unfolded her bag of tricks, some unique movement with her fingers and my spine felt a sudden strain and then went easy, a repeat followed. She then turned her attention to my ministry of internal affairs again. This time her generously oiled fingers worked along the pelvic area and for the first time my genitals were fighting for freedom.
Never in life had I allowed anyone to access my body so deep like this but boy, this was different. She never penetrated my Gaza strip but her gentle movement made me crave more. It was time to enjoy a royal treatment of a life time as my arousal reached a tipping point.
She smiled and went about teasing and relieving my muscles just waiting for my arousal to dissolve away. She went massaging my legs this time keeping safe distance between my genitals, chest and arms. After some time, as I lay there enjoying my state of feeling weightless and light. I sensed her approaching on the mattress.
I opened my eyes to see her suggestive looks and was quick to remind her that I had given my life to the son of God Jesus Christ. No amount of temptation would overpower me for my body was wrapped in the blood of Jesus. Of course, she was not impressed with my attitude, but I had no apologies for I knew the best moments awaited me in heaven so if it meant forfeiting temporary pleasures like these in pursuit of everlasting life in heaven, I was ready to pay the price.
Soon I felt what she called a full body orgasm, contractions on my PC muscles, pelvis, lower back and even hamstrings. She proceeded to grabbing my aroused member and ran her fingers around the glans. What followed was sensitive massages around my balls that were shrinking like Rwennzori glaciers to glans massage to the revolver 🔫 head and tip massage and few strokes on the shaft.
My body climaxed multiple times without actually coming. My muscles would grow stiff and then again relax and go limp. Every time I was on the verge of finishing, she would blow her warm breath on it and hold on to a spot right below the head. Finally after maybe more than 5 futile cycles, she realized she was working on walking wall.
She repeated that once again and I was sure she got exhausted and she knew no amount of treatment would bring me to her knees. I guess in her mind, she was saying this was the most impotent client she had ever worked on. I was covered with a warm towel with aromatic scents and left to rest. Sometime later, I took a shower. As I left the parlor, I overheard her lamenting to a work mate in the corridor in loose Luganda slang “Ono abadde nkafu” That was the last time I visited the massage spa. I’m looking forward to another great experience.