How to Begin?
I guess, to make a long story short(er) I'll start by mentioning that I recently passed a certain milestone that, in my friend's estimation, deserved celebrating.
I'd more or less forgotten about it after that... Until last night (-ish, specific date not specified for reason that may become obvious) when, having been partying with our MILFy soccer mom neighbour, she eventually stumbled home around 4 a.m. and, as she left, my friend announced, "Put some clothes on, we're going for a drive."
At first I assumed we'd be having late-night deli food at Chenoy's, known primarily for its never closing convenience, but as he turned the car the opposite direction I admit I was curious. And very high, which had me perky and bouncy and probably all kinds of annoying, asking him where we were going. I had no idea.
Needless to say, he remained mum on the subject of our destination and soon we were bombing along a highway I didn't know at all well, dark of night. (My friend doesn't party, he was perfectly fine to drive, by the way.)
We drove for about a half an hour's worth of far, finally pulling up to an unobtrusive building set in the midst of a mini industrial park. Curiouser and curiouser.
My friend led me to a side door, no sign but the lights were on, showing a staircase leading up. At this point I was pretty certain that it was a sex club or a massage parlour.
Bingo. At the top of the stairs, a small sign discreetly announced it to be the latter. Not knowing of any 24-hour places on the West Island of Montréal, I was intrigued. Ringing the bell, we were let into a surprisingly non-seedy, well-furnished lobby, where a bored-looking receptionist confirmed that we had an appointment. (We apparently did. For a couples' massage at almost three in the morning.)
He paid for the room, which turned out to be spacious, clean and equipped with both table(s), a walk-in shower and spa tub large enough for four, at least.
While we proceeded to shower (and I sniffed myself perkier) I thanked him for the nice treat, and speculated as to what kind of talent might be on at this hour of the night/morning, in the middle of the week.
We needn't have worried. Although only three girls were available (not certain whether others were working, or that was it) all three were stunners. Two Québecois blondes, one with a gorgeous face and truly dangerous curves, the other a bit more girl-next-door seeming, lighter up top but firm in the booty and with a bright smile and, finally, a tall-ish Japanese girl with the most enticing curves and, oh joy... Just the most perfect bum.
(Those who know me by now are likely aware that I am a fan of the female tushie.)
M above, K below. Both pictures (from the site) accurate or really convincing models. Rear views chosen for aesthetic reasons, images cropped to remove identifying watermarks.
Each entered in turn and introduced herself, then the receptionist came and asked us which two (!?) we preferred. We tried to pick the first and third, but got the names wrong and ended up with the second girl as well as the Japanese stunner.
Any disappointment was quickly dispelled however, as she (M) proved to be utterly delightful and playfully sensual, while the Asian (K) was bright, perky (mhmm), equally sensually inclined and quite a conversationalist. All this at three in the morning.
We started off, after I'd discreetly pointed out where the party favours were, by climbing into the spa together, which proved somewhat slippery and hazardous but was managed with no untoward incidents and proceeded to get friendly.1
Once the ground rules were laid out, first and discreetly by the girls, then by my friend who has his own limits where the sex trade is concerned2 everyone got cozy. First I had the pleasure of the lovely Japanese girl sitting in my lap, caressing, making playful small talk, occasionally joining me in leaning over the edge of the spa to indulge, while M straddled my friend, giving him what looked like a very relaxing head, neck and shoulder rub while her hips kept a very distracting rhythm.
Eventually a phone chimed, apparently marking the half-hour point and it was time to get out of the tub. The girls quickly dried themselves before beginning to towel us off in turn. My friend was, at that point, sporting a full erection which I was about to towel dry myself as a kind of thank-you, um, hand job, when M announced that she'd do that, accompanying a very thorough towelling with a whisper in his ear followed by a lingering, quite obviously enthusiastic kiss during which K and I grinned and climbed onto a massage table, eventually joined by the other two.
What followed was, to be discreet, a very intensely blissful caressing for me and, from what I saw when I peeked, some very friendly connecting between M and my friend, during which she didn't say much but conveyed volumes, particularly around the time the phone chimed again. I hardly noticed because K was giving me a very happy ending, smiling all the while and murmuring that she didn't often get female clients, that it was a treat for her too.
Flatterer. In any event, hands having roamed, caresses exchanged it was, I supposed, time up but no, my friend had gone all-out, 90 minutes, so it was time to switch masseuses.
I quite enjoyed M's touch, which was a little firmer and closer to 'real' massage but still plenty stimulating, while my friend and K took to one another instantly. After she'd indulged, she asked if he might like to off her bum, which he'd been admiring while she bent over. He doesn't usually partake, but this was clearly an exception and I watched, amused (and horny) as he hit it off her perfectly firm, round bum.
I was distracted soon after, but muffled moans caught my attention and looking, I will only say that my friend and his masseuse were clearly not seeing eye to eye. In fact, they were facing the opposite directions, her atop him, twerking at first, then held in place while...
While I had my own distracting company and focused on her, further exploring her unashamedly free and sensual nature. Definitely not a second-best choice in any way.
The final alarm signalled the end of our time at [name withheld, if you recognize the pictures above, well, that's the place]. We showered with the girls, towelled them off, albeit in a slight hurry because management frowned on unpaid overtime use of the room. My friend tipped each girl, first according to her initial outline, then again according to his, and my appreciation, for which both seemed pleasantly surprised.
Schedules were exchanged before they slipped out and we dressed in happy silence, grinning. I didn't say a word until we'd climbed back in the car, by then about 4 a.m. and the pre-dawn touching the horizon, roads still conveniently free of the traffic that would congest them in a couple of hours.
Once safely back home and ready for bed, I hugged my friend tight, trying not to cry (I am a bit of a sap) before getting on my tip-toes and whispering in his ear, "You licked her booty, didn't you?"
His stirring cock was all the answer I needed. That and catching him entering a new number into his contacts the following day, which bodes well for him, I think. And her, as he really is a prince of a man.
It must have been hideously expensive, as looking at the place's website they charge way more than just about any other parlour, though I suppose the 24-hour service and the overall quality of the place and the company justifies at least some of that. I know my friend didn't complain.
1I should note that sensual massage is legal in Québec, within limits. Which is to say a 'happy ending' (hand job for men) is accepted as part of a 'relaxing massage' according to the courts, but anything beyond that is (rightly) considered prostitution. It is, however, generally also considered benign by the police, who would rather such things be organized and behind closed doors. That said, occasional busts do happen, so YMMV.
2Both me and my friend have a policy of not paying for sex. In my case, I really don't need to, being a woman and not totally hideous, and in his he is adamant that no one ever need touch him in any way they wouldn't willingly. He will pay an escort or stripper for their time, but only after making it clear that he's serious about the rest.
While I admit nothing, nor implicate anyone, BJ and perhaps 69 are not inappropriate letter-number combinations.
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