Yesterday evening I was with my new Parisian friend, Calista, and she asked me how I got into massage and learned to develop my techniques.  Several people ask this so I will put it in writing for you all.

 

It started about three years ago with my Polish neighbours, Dorota and Andre.  Dorota is tall, blonde, full figured and Scandinavian-looking; she claims direct decent from the Swedes. Whereas Andre claims French heritage, and is indeed dark-haired, short and muscular.  This was when I was living with my wife and as couples we got on well, and flirted heavily after drinks, but nothing ever happened (except in my dreams!).

 

One wet, summer day I returned from a cycle-ride in the forest to find that I had locked myself out of the house. I was wearing a t-shirt and lycra shorts and was completely soaked through. So I went nextdoor to our neighbours to shelter from the rain.  Dorota answered the door, she was alone and I had interrupted her shower; she was dressed in a silk dressing gown that clung revealingly to her wet skin.  She invited me in, but I was dripping wet so she insisted I take my t-shirt off.  Standing in front of her, half-naked, my lycra shorts failed to conceal the frisson of sexual excitement that I felt.  She said that I was still dripping on her floor, so she went down on her knees and unpeeled my shorts, her gown slipping from her shoulder as she did so.

 

I think you can imagine the rest, and this continued for some years until they returned to Wroclaw.  Each time, I massaged her sensually as an essential preliminary part of our lovemaking.  I promised never to tell her husband, and I kept that promise.

 

Some months later, Andre developed a stiff back. Dorota innocently mentioned that I was supposed to be a good masseur and suggested that I help him, so a rendezvous was arranged at their house.  When I arrived, Dorota was absent.  It was a hot sweaty day so I took a shower whilst Andre went to the bedroom to pull back the sheets and lie down, waiting for me.  I wrapped myself in a short towel and went to the bedroom, (which by now was a familiar place!)

 

Andre was facedown on the bed, completely naked. It was my first time in a room with a naked man, and I felt a quickening of my heart, a slight shortness of breath and a surge of nerves and anticipation.  I kneeled down to work on his feet and legs, but poured too much oil into my hands due to nerves, so I began with long sweeping strokes the length of his legs to spread out the oil, before returning to his feet.

 

Having finished with his feet, I stood up and climbed astride his legs, my towel parting as I did so.  This was my favoured position when I massaged Dorota’s buttocks and lower back, so I was familiar with the strokes and my nerves started to lessen and I started to enjoy myself: I began to stiffen with each unfamiliar contact with a male body.  Bending forward to kneed his lower back I felt his legs part slightly and I slipped between his oily thighs. This was completely new to me, and incredibly exciting, and as I stretched repeatedly to reach his shoulders, the more I dipped and withdrew from his hairy crevice. Confused and trembling I sat up and with six or seven involuntary jerks of my pelvis I erupted. 

 

I lay down on his wet back, spent, embarrassed.  He laughed and rolled over, inviting my to continue the massage, and soon our pleasure was shared and we kissed and embraced.  He asked me to promise that I would never tell his wife, Dorota, and I kept that promise.

 

The following week he invited me back, again at a time that Dorota was out, and this became a regular occurrence.  Sometimes he rented a hotel room to make the arrangement easier, and one time he brought a friend, a young Danish guy.  They explained that there was a gay network in town and that my massage skills would be much appreciated, indeed many of their friends would pay for such a massage.

 

About the same time, Dorota presented me with a list of her girlfriends who might also appreciate a discreet afternoon massage.  In one instance, a woman on Dorota’s list was the wife of a man on Andre’s list, which is how I met my first couple, my Swedish friends in BLOG 1.  From these encounters, mostly neighbours and local people, I developed my own network and reputation, so that it is now a regular and sometimes paid hobby.

 

That is how I got into massage!