THE TOWEL IS A CLUMSY METAPHOR
By Chris
Warner
This story is written by Chris Warner, and all
copyright and other rights of authorship are retained. It is for ADULTS ONLY
and contains sexual material. If you are under 18 years old and/or are offended
by sexual material, please stop viewing this page NOW. Readers are permitted to
keep a copy for their own personal reference, but this story must not be
reposted or in any other way distributed, in any form, without the express
permission of the author via the e-mail address given.
When I moved back to
“You should move in with me!” said Chrissy. “The other
room is empty because Robin has just driven away yet another flatmate.” Robin was a postgraduate student who owned
the house where Chrissy lived. He had inherited it from an uncle and he
lived off the rent of his two spare rooms.
Unfortunately for Robin, he was in the habit of quickly losing flatmates
due to his lack of personality. He was
one of those intellectual types with no grasp of the real world and no social
skills. He was probably somewhere on the
Autistic Spectrum. We presumed he was
heterosexual but it was difficult to tell because both men and women spurned
him with equal intensity. Chrissy coped with him because she found it easier than
most just to laugh at him, but she was looking forward to having another ally
in the house.
In truth none of us saw much of each
other. I was working shifts at the
hospital and Robin was often at the university, but I was surprised that Chrissy often worked in the evenings as well, which was unusual
for a physiotherapist. She didn’t talk
much about her job, and I only knew she worked on the corner of Key and English
because I happened to overhear her ordering a taxi one day when her car wasn’t
working. The only other thing I knew was
that it wasn’t a high-tech place because one day when I had commented about the
physio equipment at my work she had said that her job
was mostly hands on stuff.
One day when I got home from a morning
shift at work I found Robin in a real flap about a letter from his insurance
company. They were threatening to put up
his contents insurance premiums unless he and his tenants all signed
declarations that we didn’t have criminal convictions. Typically for Robin, he seemed to think this
needed to be done before the end of the day so he insisted that we go visit Chrissy at work. We
drove to the corner of Key and English and there spotted a medical centre that
advertised a physiotherapist. We went in
and asked the receptionist if we could see Chrissy.
“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist. “We’ve got nobody here by that name.”
“I think you want the house over the road,”
said a nurse that was standing nearby.
“I’m pretty sure there’s a Chrissy working
there.”
Robin and I crossed the road in some
confusion. The house had no sign out
front, and it was only when we got to the entrance that we saw a small brass
plate saying ‘Tender Touch - Massage’.
The front door opened into a lavishly decorated lobby and reception
area. There were leather couches and
ornate lamps, and on the walls were prints of famous paintings, which I
happened to notice were all nudes. On the wall behind the receptionist was a
copy of The Fallen Madonna by Van Klomp.
“Can I help you?” asked the
receptionist.
“Yes,” I said. “We need to see Chrissy.”
“Both of you?” asked the receptionist. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No,” I said. “We’re her friends.”
“I presumed that since you knew her real
name, but I still can’t let you through unless you pay for a massage.”
I was about to argue with her, to say that
it was stupid to ask us to buy a massage when all we wanted was Chrissy’s signature on a document, but suddenly the idea of
a massage sounded great to me. I'd had a
hard day at work and then this stuff with Robin had made me unnecessarily
stressed. I’d had lots of massages in
As I pulled out my credit card I was
vaguely aware of the receptionist talking about a special couples rate, but if
she mentioned the cost I certainly wasn’t paying attention because at that
moment I was distracted by the sight of a young woman walking down the corridor
behind the reception desk wearing nothing but a corset and a g-string. My mind spun for a moment before I suddenly
blurted out “Is this a brothel?”
“No, it most certainly is not!” said the
receptionist as she processed my payment. “This establishment specialises in sensual
massage, but there is most definitely no sex!”
She seemed so affronted that I didn’t know what to say in response, so
Robin and I followed her meekly down the corridor and into a luxurious room
containing two comfortable massage tables that were as big as beds. She handed us each a towel. “If you want to start with a shower it’s
through that door there. Otherwise just
strip down and make yourselves comfortable. Roxy, I mean Chrissy,
will be with you shortly.”
“Cool!” said Robin. I watched in horror as he started unbuttoning
his shirt. Despite the warm day he was
wearing a singlet underneath. “How does
this work?” he asked. “Should I take off
my shorts too?”
“Of course,” said the receptionist. “You don’t want anything to get in the way of
your massage.” Robin hesitated a while
before deciding to wrap the towel around his waist. Reaching up under the towel he pulled down
his shorts. Then he lay himself face
down on the nearest bed.
“Hold on a minute!” I protested. “Do I have to have my massage in the same
room as him?”
The receptionist looked confused. “Sorry?
Is something wrong? You did pay
for the couples deal.” When I protested
that I hadn’t understood she was apologetic.
“I could change it to two singles if you want, but you would have to
come back later because all our single rooms are booked.”
I was disappointed, but since I had come so
far I was reluctant to back out now. The
only problem was how to strip off my clothes and get under the towel without
losing my dignity in front of Robin. I
thought about it for a moment and decided that the best I could hope for was to
pretend to do it with confidence. I was
still wearing my white nurse’s uniform, which necessitated wearing plain white
underwear underneath, so I tried to convince myself that it wouldn’t be any
worse than being in my swimsuit – not that I would want Robin to see me in my
swimsuit. I turned to one side so that I
wasn’t facing him, but trying not to look as if I was deliberately trying to
hide myself, and I started to unbutton my dress.
I could see Robin leering at me from where
he was lying, but thankfully I was rescued by the receptionist who had focussed
her attention on him. “Sir, I don’t
think you understand. You won’t want to
have any clothing getting in the way of your massage. Here, let me help you.” With that the receptionist grabbed the bottom
of his singlet and yanked it up over Robin’s head. I used the distraction to quickly pull off my
dress and jump face down on the massage table, pulling my towel over me. I felt the bottom of the towel resting on my
upper thighs just below my panties, and in this position the towel only just
covered my main bra strap, leaving my shoulder straps exposed.
Robin, meanwhile, was still receiving
unwanted attention from the receptionist.
“It would be better if sir didn’t have his underpants on either,” she
said. With practiced skill she reached
up under his towel and yanked down his plain white briefs. The startled look on his face almost made me
laugh, but my good humour faded away when her attention was focussed on
me. “How about I get that bra for you?”
she said, and immediately I felt her hand pull down the top of my towel
slightly until she could unfasten my bra strap.
She slipped the shoulder straps off my arms and pulled the garment out
from underneath me while I worked hard at keeping myself concealed from
Robin. Then, just as he had, I felt her
hands reaching up under the towel and pulling down my panties. I was soon just as naked as Robin was
underneath my towel. “Roxy and Cutie
will be with you shortly,” said the receptionist as she departed the room.
Several minutes of awkward silence followed
until the door opened again and we saw Chrissy enter
the room. “Robin!” she exclaimed in
surprise mingled with horror, seeing him first.
Then she spotted me. “Jo! What are you guys doing here?” I could see her blushing, which was something
of a surprise since she is normally so self assured. Her embarrassment probably had something to
do with the fact she was wearing just her bra and panties with black stockings
held in place by a garter belt. This
obviously wasn’t your typical physiotherapy job.
“It’s a long story,” I said. “We came to get you to sign something for
Robin’s insurance, and it seems that we’ve now signed up for some sort of
couple massage.”
“Really?” said Chrissy
with a grin. “Do you even know what that
is?”
“No,” I said. “All I know is that I have to have my massage
in the same room as Robin. The
receptionist mentioned that someone named Cutie would also be joining us.”
“I’m Cutie,” said a woman who at that
moment came into the room. She was young
and certainly cute, and the surprising thing about her was that all she was
wearing were black French-cut knickers.
Her small but perfect breasts were on display for all to see. “Which one is mine?” she asked.
“You take the guy,” said Chrissy. “I’ll take
the girl.”
“Hey!” protested Robin. “Why don’t I get to chose?”
Chrissy smiled. “Did you pay for
this?” she asked. Robin’s silence told
her all she needed to know. “Then unless
Jo has any objections we’ll get Cutie to give you your massage.”
As much as it felt weird to have my
half-dressed friend give me a massage, I was keen to have her to myself, keen to find out from her how I came to find her
working here instead of the medical practice over the road. All my questions piled up unasked however as
we lapsed into an awkward silence. Chrissy poured some oil onto my shoulders and back while
Cutie did the same to Robin. It was Chrissy who broke the silence when she gently pulled my
towel down to my waist, leaving me to cover the sides of my boobs as best I
could with my arms. “So did you guys
really get naked in front of each other?” she giggled.
“No, the receptionist took our underwear
off after we lay down on the table. So I
take it that you treat all your customers while they are in the nude?”
“Yep,” said Chrissy. “It’s mostly men. I don’t often get to give a woman a massage.”
We lapsed into another silence. Chrissy was doing
an amazing job on my back and shoulders, and I could hear Robin moaning in
response to the workout he was getting from Cutie. Looking across at him I saw Cutie leaving his
upper body and move down to work on his calves and thighs. A minute later Chrissy
was doing the same to me. Thankfully
from where Robin was he wouldn’t have the chance to see anything, but I felt
very exposed to Chrissy as she massaged my legs. I felt sure that she would be able to see
everything with only a glance up under the hem of the towel. My feeling of exposure increased when Chrissy started extending her strokes under the towel,
reaching up and over my buttocks. I knew this wasn’t too unusual as some of the
massages I had received in
After a while Chrissy
told me to roll over onto my back. I
carefully pulled the towel up before I rolled over so that it was covering my
breasts. I was all the more conscious
that in this position the towel only just reached past my pussy. A moment later Cutie asked Robin to roll over
too, and the first thing I noticed was an obvious
bulge in his towel. There was no
concealing the fact that he had an erection.
I looked at Cutie and Chrissy to see what
their reactions would be, but they seemed to regard this as nothing out of the
ordinary. I couldn’t help asking the
question that was still weighing heavily on my mind. “Are you sure this isn’t a brothel? I know that receptionist said it wasn’t, but
it certainly isn’t a physio practice.”
Chrissy gave me a slightly awkward smile.
“No, this isn’t a brothel,” she said.
“We just give sensual massages.
There is never any sex involved.
Just relax. I’m sure you’ll like
it.”
I was still a bit troubled, but I decided
just to accept Chrissy’s advice and relax. I could certainly feel the tension of the day
ebbing away from me. I could feel Chrissy’s hands on my thighs, with her fingers going
surprisingly close to my pussy, and as I lay there staring at the ceiling I couldn’t
help but be reminded of my last boyfriend in
I nearly groaned in frustration when Chrissy’s hands left my thighs. I quickly glanced over at Robin and saw that
Cutie was now massaging his chest, including focussing a fair amount of
attention on his nipples. His erection
was still creating a veritable tent in the towel covering his groin. I saw that he was mainly looking at Cutie, or
more specifically her breasts, but every so often he would look over at
me. He looked disappointed whenever he
saw that my towel was still covering all my intimate places. This was soon to change. Chrissy had moved
herself up to my chest and after spending a few minutes massaging the front of
my shoulders she gently started pulling my towel down. With lightening speed I grabbed it just
before my breasts were exposed. “Chrissy!”
“Don’t worry about Robin,” said Chrissy. “Listen to
what your body wants. You have to admit
that it feels good, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t,” I pleaded.
“Would it help if I went first?” she
asked. Then, without waiting for my
answer, Chrissy reached behind her and quickly
unfastened her bra. Her breasts spilled
out as she dropped her bra on the floor.
I waited for Robin to say something, but he was watching with what
seemed to be reverential silence. My
heart was thumping in my chest as yet again Chrissy
started pulling the towel down from my breasts.
This time I didn’t have the willpower to stop her. My body was overruling my brain. My feeling of shame was overshadowed by
something else, something more primitive, as I allowed her to expose me.
Robin leered as my breasts came into view,
but my embarrassment was overridden by pleasure as Chrissy
started massaging them. I tried to
reason with myself that I was just receiving a normal massage from Chrissy, who after all was a trained physiotherapist, but
there was no hiding the fact that I was allowing my closest female friend to
rub my boobs while she was topless herself.
I was astonished by how the needs of my body had overcome the
reservations of my mind.
There was just a small part of my brain
that was trying to make sense of what was happening. “Why do you get us to cover ourselves with a
towel if it doesn’t stop you from touching what’s underneath?” I asked.
“Ah, the towel,” said Chrissy
with a smile. “Our
secret weapon. A lot of people
think the towel is there for the client’s benefit, to help them feel in
control, but in reality the towel is there for my benefit. By carefully manipulating the towel I slowly
take control of the situation until the client is putty in my hands. The towel may start off being a physical
barrier to protect their modesty, but in the end it is a psychological barrier
that keeps me separate from the client.
They know that I’m in control.
They may want me, but they can’t have me.”
“So what’s the deal with the lingerie and
the boobs and the ‘sensual’ massage?” I asked.
“If this isn’t a brothel then why do people pay to get turned on if you
just leave them frustrated?”
“Are you turned on?” Chrissy
asked with a cheeky grin.
“Answer the question!”
Chrissy’s grin faded and was replaced by that
uncharacteristic blush again.
“Actually,” she said, “they don’t go away frustrated. Although we don’t do sex, we do supply happy
endings.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Sometimes we call it ‘sensual hand relief,’”
she replied. “Look!” I looked over at Cutie and Robin and my eyes
were greeted with the unmistakable sight of her hand beneath his towel jerking
him off. He was staring up at the
ceiling in a state of stunned excitement.
I’m sure he never expected his day to turn out like this, and I wondered
if he’d ever been touched that way before.
However, Robin wasn’t the only one to experience a first that day. A moment later I felt Chrissy’s
hand slide over my thigh and begin to explore my most private place. I knew I should stop her, but I didn’t. I was turned on, and Chrissy
knew I was too. Even Robin had probably
worked that out by now. As Chrissy’s fingers found my
clitoris I was longing for my own happy ending.
Despite what was happening,
or maybe because of it since there was now this new and unexpected connection
happening between Chrissy and me, I was still curious
to discover more about this hidden lifestyle of hers. “I could never work out why you had so much
underwear to wash when you did your laundry but you never washed a work
uniform. I guess the lingerie helps to
get the guys off. I’m sure you wouldn’t
get any complaints.”
“The tricky part is the timing,” said Chrissy. “If it
happens too soon the client feels ripped off, but if it takes too long you go
over time and it mucks up the scheduling.”
“So does every massage here end in a happy
ending?”
“Are you hoping to get one?” Chrissy asked in
response. Such a direct question! She seemed determined to have me admit that I
was enjoying this. There was no avoiding
giving either a yes or no answer. The
answer seemed to come straight from my vagina.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Chrissy smiled and carried on talking in a relaxed conversational
tone. “To answer your question, most
massages here have a happy ending apart from one important exception. That exception is our couples massage. As the name implies, people who pay for our
couples massage are usually couples, and what they get is just the massage to
get them in the mood followed by time alone in the room to spend together.”
“Time’s up!” announced Cutie.
Cutie stepped away from Robin and stood
near the door to wait for Chrissy. Robin protested aloud his frustration with
being left unsatisfied, so only Chrissy heard my own
groan. She leaned down and whispered
softly in my ear. “I have to go now,”
she said, “but if you’re interested we can continue this at home without the
towel.” A moment later she and Cutie
were gone, leaving me alone with Robin.
Robin looked over at me with unconcealed
lust. “Fancy a root?” he asked.
“Get lost!” I said. “There’s no way I’m going to let you touch
me!”
“Why not? You let Chrissy
touch you.”
“That’s different!”
“How is it different?”
Apart from the obvious fact that Robin was
repulsive, that wasn’t an easy question to answer. What had caused me to allow my friend to
finger me almost to orgasm? I’d had
plenty of massages from women before but I had never responded like I had
today. Was I interested in her
suggestion that we pick up this evening where we left off – only this time
without the towel? Chrissy
had told me that for her the towel was about keeping control and keeping
herself separate from her clients. For
me the towel represented the boundary around my own heterosexuality – a line
that was certainly crossed today. Was I
bisexual or lesbian? This isn’t a
question that I would be able to answer in a hurry, but one thing was certain –
when Chrissy got home from work that evening and
found me waiting naked in her bed, there was no towel in sight.
The End
September 2012