Home News Wife Massage: As A Middle-Aged Woman, This Is What Happened When I...

Wife Massage: As A Middle-Aged Woman, This Is What Happened When I Received A Happy Ending Massage

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wife massage Near the start of this pandemic, I had an unexpected “Good Luck to You, Leo Grande” experience If you’re not familiar with the movie (now streaming on Hulu), a retired widow (Emma Thompson) hires an attractive sex worker (Daryl McCormack) in search of sexual adventure. (Spoiler alert: Adventure is found.)

In my wife massage, there was no green-eyed Leo Grande involved. But two (2) individuals worked over my middle-aged body – although they weren’t official “sex workers,” though it did involve both sex and work.

I recently attended a “hands-on bodywork session,” which is basically like getting a massage with an eventual happy ending. All was good with Yonis R Us (YRU), an organization that hosts retreats in luxurious locales where women of all ages (from teenagers to senior citizens) learn to connect with their bodies, sexuality, and desires.

Yes, there may be a happy ending at the end of each bodywork session, but it wasn’t just about that. These sessions were about allowing yourself to accept pleasure and feel sexy without any of the body image/performative/goal-oriented pressures associated with much hetero sex.

wife massage Losing that last bit was going to be a challenge for me. I spend much of my leisure worrying about things like whether a spot on my leg is fatal, people who don’t reply promptly (are they dead??), and other worries. My monkey mind doesn’t just chatter away during meditation sessions – it’s more like a howler monkey: always alert, hypervigilant, screeching from treetops about any potential threats that might lurk nearby.

Truth be told, I was secretly searching for a Magic Vagina Whisperer; someone who could make me relax and know exactly what I wanted before it even occurred to me, who could play my body like a piano or whatever musical instrument matches up closest with what my body could offer (Bagpipes? Theremin?).

One day, Nanette*, the founder of Yonis, messaged me and offered me a private session that night at no charge – of course, I said yes! It has since become one of my most valuable media perks; especially considering I recently received an enormous box full of cannabis products delivered directly to my door!

Four seconds later of wife massage, however, I felt overwhelmed with fear. Letting strangers touch all the naughty bits wasn’t the issue; having interviewed several sex workers, I came away convinced that providing loving sexual touch to people who may not feel it for whatever reason is an invaluable service and not something to be embarrassed by. With no moral dilemmas whatsoever – Viva being touched by a kind stranger/specialist!

On that particular day, however, I wasn’t feeling particularly attractive. Already having a full-on pandemic body even though we hadn’t started yet, I had what looked like an abandoned parking lot under my bao-like belly.

Emma Thompson confided to Vogue about her last-minute preparations for “Good Luck to You, Leo Grande,” saying that she couldn’t go off to a health spa “in anticipation of nudity.”

“No way the wife massage!” I thought to myself in an exhilarating moment of liberation, Emma. There was no way I was going to lose my belly in one day – not without first accepting its “as is” condition and owning its “forthcoming nudity.” The thought was strangely liberating; “Screw it!” I declared; this is my body now; behold!”

On a rainy night in San Diego, I arrived at an inviting little house hidden down a winding lane. Nanette welcomed me warmly at the door; she has short, curvy features that make her seem like a seductive fairy godmother. She introduced me to Rod Steele* – blonde, muscled, and an ideal example of manhood as well as being an enchantingly gentle soul.

There was a spacious living room and a wooden dining table filled with snacks. As I nibbled away at the spread, we had casual conversations about whatever came to our minds. Finally, they asked me to go into the bedroom, undress, and get up on what looked like a massage table. I draped a sheet over myself as I waited in anticipation.

When they arrived, they spoke gently and started giving me a massage – it was absolutely wonderful! If ever two people offer you a massage, don’t hesitate – take them up on it all at once! It truly made my day.

As they introduced elements of sensation play, I closed my eyes and asked permission before using any. There were scarves draped up my thighs and a little wheel toy with pokey things – the idea was to stay in the moment and focus on enjoying all of its sensations.

Somebody eventually started touching me where the bathing suit covers are located. There were some consensual flicks of a flogger and the introduction of a butt plug, though I can’t recall who specifically did what to whom; otherwise, I could give you a detailed account: “Bishop to e5”.

What struck me as particularly odd was that I wasn’t even close to having an orgasm! And yet, it felt polite if it hadn’t happened already – two gorgeous, sexy people giving me lavish attention – while lying there wondering if their hands were getting sore from all that pampering for free. It felt absurd that this wasn’t happening! It felt as if people should expect me to give something in return, even if it meant more work for them instead of me!

So there I stood: naked and feeling increasingly stimulated yet not experiencing an orgasm.

At some point of wife massage (two minutes or 700 years?) the powerful Magic Wand was summoned. If you’re unfamiliar, this massive vibrator acts like a jackhammer for women’s privates and could easily be converted to gas power with ease (rip cord and all).

They applied the Wand, but my body would not let go. I felt my monkey mind cockblocking their efforts at reaching me. “Shit, it’s still not happening!” was all that crossed my mind – which by the way is not usually among my more stimulating thoughts.

As I considered my best sex experiences, raw chemistry came to mind, and how powerfully arousing it can be. Physical manipulation of body parts plays a huge role in stimulating pleasure, but it’s only one part of the equation; there’s also the alluring blend of chemicals, scents, and the almost divine touch from someone who truly does something for you – not to mention that jawline/chest/thigh appeal that only comes from having someone do something for you!

In this instance, no amount of diligent rubbing was going to suffice. That’s why a glory hole would never appeal to me; I need an explanation.

Here, I couldn’t just sit there on the massage table and get lost in it.

Alain de Botton, co-founder of School of Life and author of “How to Think More About Sex,” explores the “problems” with sex in “How to Think More About Sex.” He notes that great experiences such as these often remain an exception rather than the norm; and it is only when we reflect back on them with nostalgia that we recognize their preciousness – and appreciate what a remarkable feat nature’s biology, psychology and timing truly is.”

But I digress. Throughout all this, the Wand was insistently buzzing away, seemingly confused as to why I was resisting its charms. Not knowing what else to do, I mentally pulled up images of my favorite porn and pulled out images with two college guys who, against their supposed straightness, get too turned on and simply had to bone each other right away.

Finally, as Annette Bening famously declared in “American Beauty,” I felt an intense surge of desire – not huge like Annette but there nonetheless. Oh no! You’ve ruined goalless pleasure by setting yourself a target!

Once the “sex” part was over, we moved back into the living room. I sat on a couch while Nanette and Rod climbed in on either side. They snuggled close and handed me an excellent popsicle as we talked about what had gone down and how it had affected me. Rod suggested trying again with the plug sometime, while Nanette gave me another popsicle (unrelated). Overall, it was an A+ aftercare experience!

In the end, I still fully endorse this type of work. If you can enjoy being attended to by two eager pretend lovers, get up there on that table! (Statistically speaking, it’s likely that you’d enjoy it: multi-partner sex is the most common fantasy according to Justin Lehmiller’s “Tell Me What You Want.”)

Though not ideal, for me and my howler monkey mind the most satisfying fuck of the night was one I gave myself: an emotional massage. While not ideal, lessons were learned. Sex with someone who desires you as much as you desire them is a rare and beautiful thing; unfortunately, this wasn’t it – but that didn’t need to be the case; something different needed to take place instead.

In this space, you don’t need to worry about pleasing anyone (or at least that’s my experience). You can go deep sexually and emotionally with two people, then be on your way with no emotional reverb. Plus, who knows? Maybe you’ll even get some popsicles out of it!

*Names had been altered. Except for mine, which I think was probably a bad decision.

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