LITTLE RAMBLER AND THE TINY PAPER SPEEDO

 

I’ve mentioned in previous entries that when I’m traveling I like to get bodywork. Massages and the like. Last February I posted this entry regarding a particularly good session with a Thai practitioner and how I would love to emulate that experience.

Fast forward to June. My wife and I are traveling overseas and find a really good Asian massage place not far from our hotel. My first session was a good one. Deep bodywork and a positive result after days of travel. The only unfortunate, as far as I was concerned, was the need for me to wear either my underwear - cotton boxers - or this ridiculous paper thong that was two sizes too small. But, weighing the options the embarrassing thong went on and the bodywork was good. To put it bluntly, the thing barely covered Lil Rambler and both the boys - and virtually nothing else. Pubes, ass, pelvis, all fully exposed. But modesty, right?

A few days later my wife and I decided to go back to the same massage place for our final night in this particular country. I booked a second deep tissue Thai massage with oil, my wife selected a “relaxation” massage. I told the therapist - a different one than I had a few days before - that I particularly wanted some stretching.

For some reason they decided that we should be in the same room together. I was a little put off because my wife is the friendly sort and usually talks to the therapist. I just want the bodywork. But oh well.

So we go in to this larger treatment room than the first time, with two massage tables in the center of the room. The two of us and the two therapists, and again I’m instructed to don the teeny covering or use my own underwear. I’m still in cotton boxers, so I derisively hold up the tiny pack and say something about paper Speedo’s, which gets a laugh.

(The covering covers less than the image left suggests. The top edge of the waistband - a string - rested against the top of Lil Rambler in the front, and was about half down my butt in the back. And that was pulling it up all the way. Pubes and ass fully exposed, with Rambler and the boys straining against a tiny triangle of paper.)

The therapists leave, my wife and I undress and moments later the masseuses come back in. I’m on my stomach with only the paper thing on. My therapist gives my butt a little whack and covers me with a thin sheet.

So, as before, the bodywork is deep and intense, and this new therapist tends to the draping sporadically but not obsessively. At one point the thing is down below my ass, giving her free access to any and all of my glutes. When it comes to the stretching the covers fall away and the boys pop out from the thong to see what the hell is going on. The massage therapist pulls the paper back over them, and then stretches me in the opposite direction.

Other than that brief flash, she’s too wrapped up in the stretching to really bother looking at anything, and she pulls me up off the table, wrapping my legs with her own and generally twisting me every which way, including a bare-assed butt rub and stretch across her legs - I haven’t been stretched so widely in years. She gets on the table and stands on my butt, massaging it with her feet. The thong is pulled so far down my entire ass is exposed, while the front part - against the table - slips down and releases Lil Rambler. After a couple of minutes she gets back down off the table. I manage to get Lil back in his den as she has me flip over, readjusting the drape after leaving me laying facing up for a second as she refolded it. She then re-starts the stretching, ignoring the drape and letting it fall wherever it feels like going.

"Whoa, wait!"

(At one point she’s got her hand on my left thigh and has my right leg off the side of the table, out in mid-air, stretching my inside thighs. The drape fell off and I hear her say “Oh, sexy boy,” which gets a laugh. I don’t think my wife understood the context.)

Suddenly I realize that despite my therapist’s viewpoint of mostly not being able to see much other than a few brief (no pun intended) glimpses, my wife’s therapist has a full on view of everything. I pull the eye cover away and look at my wife’s table. Her therapist is stationed in the far side of the table facing me. She sees my look and gives me a smile and a wink, raising her eyebrow suggestively. All in fun, but obviously she’s seen things.

So much for "modesty."

"Well Hello There!!!"