Description: The message arrived in the afternoon. “Hi, my name is Alessia. I’ve heard about you. I’d like a massage… something special.” I had learned to recognize certain requests. I responded calmly, asking her what exactly she wanted. She didn’t waste time with unnecessary explanations: she wanted a tantric massage, absolute discretion, and a neutral location. Two hours later, she sent me the location of a motel outside the city. When I entered the dimly lit reception area, I saw her immediately. Sitting on a leather sofa, she was caressing the edge of the phone. She looked up and we recognized each other without words. I turned up the collar of my jacket and nodded to her. She stood up silently, handed the papers to the receptionist, and took the key to room 207. I followed her down the hall, the click of her heels on the floor seeming faster than her breathing. When she opened the door, the smell of fresh sheets and polished wood enveloped us. She closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it as if to gather her courage. “I’ve never done anything like this,” she whispered. I smiled slightly, placing my bag next to the double bed. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let yourself go.” She nodded, slowly undoing the belt of her trench coat. There was still a hint of hesitation, but she let it fall onto the chair. I invited her to lie down on the bed, while I turned on a small speaker with relaxing music. I opened my bag, warmed the oil in my hands and approached her. The first touches were delicate, following the lines of her body with slow, enveloping movements. I felt her breathing change, become deeper, while the tensions melted under my hands. The minutes stretched out. The boundary between the massage and something else became impalpable, a game of sensations that left her breathless. Her body responded, opening to a new, intense experience. When I finished, she lay there, eyes closed, a relaxed smile on her lips. “I didn’t think it could be like this…” she murmured. “Like how?” I asked. She opened her eyes, looking at me. “So intense. So… alive.” She rose slowly, still wrapped in that energy. Then, almost as if to justify herself, she added: “My husband would never understand.” I didn’t answer. It wasn’t necessary. I gathered my things while she remained sitting on the bed, lost in a thought that perhaps not even she could explain. When I closed the door behind me, I knew that, for that night at least, she had found what she was looking for.
From: Massaggioxlei | Created on the: 18-02-2025 14:02:21h
