Our bodies get fatigued, whether we work them or not. I remember while we were young our grandparents, and sometimes our parents too, would lie down on a mat and ask us to walk over their backs. These helped their muscles to loosen. And then they relax, body and mind. It was a pleasure for both of us because kids like stepping on bodies.
I had never been to a place where massages were advertised as much as here, Kuwait. There is this social networking site, Tagged, that you will find many girls advertising these services. Thais,
Pinays, West Africans, and even Europeans. My intention here was just to make friends, but i was alarmed by how too friendly these girls could get. I later found out that these girls were not really
masseuses.
A professional masseuse is more or less like a chiropractor. By touch, they can charm a bone or a muscle to return to its position. But these girls are not even semi-pros. Their massage parlors are their rooms. And before you go they will tell you their price, 20KD, that's like 7 thousand Kenya shillings. I laughed so hard the first time i was told this price. For just a hundred bob, you could park your trailer at Maungu, along Mombasa-Nairobi road and relieve yourself. I guess its high class here, although all of them display their WhatsApp numbers on their profile. Maybe i should just accept the fact that i will never get a "Swedish Massage."
Last time i was home, while i was in a job hiatus, Christine had complimentary tickets for a massage at Talentos beach. The beach is about two and a half kilometers from Likoni ferry. Some ten years ago, teens would go up to Pirates on Bamburi beach. But not anymore. Every fun thing you can find at Pirates was here too. Ice cream, fried cassava, potato chips, water slides, and even loud disco.
The massage parlor was a new infrastructure by Christine's uncle added to the fun businesses found at Talentos Beach.
Christine Ekellot was a girl i met two weeks ago at Mv. Jambo ferry while crossing to the island. It's not easy to befriend a girl, a stranger on the ferry because you got so little time, it's about ten minutes ride. But i did. We exchanged contacts and we've met three more times after that.
Surprisingly, two men met us at the reception. They were muscular and handsome. And before i could think of an excuse, we had already been escorted to different rooms. The Massage parlor was semi-permanent. Built by mangrove trunks and thatched roof. It was stylish though, a beach theme. There was furniture at the reception made of wicker. The inside was painted light blue and
there is a view of the ocean in every room. A few portraits hanged on the wall. A reception area and six massage rooms completed the structure of this parlor.
I expected to receive these services from a lady, but here was a man asking me to remove my clothes. Somehow your mind talks you into it, explaining that it is normal and this is how the high society does it. Unsatisfied with the argument but i threw my clothes off except for my boxer and jumped on to the flat wooden bed. My heart was still beating fast and the minute the guy touched my leg i jumped up like a monkey spiked on its buttock. I could not take it. I went to the adjacent room and stopped Christine's massage too.
You could say i am homophobic, and i'd wear that badge proudly. It's weird to be a man giving massage to another man. With Christine's case, it's not. But i guess i was carried away by jealousy. I couldn't stand another man making my girl feeling good. He could steal her from me. And i would be
sad because i hadn't even hit it.
After twenty minutes of raised voices in arguments and my side of morality, A woman took Christine in to finish her massage. They asked why i did not worry she might turn her gay, but i said that's least of my concern in this world.
Next i asked them if i could do the massage and earn some money myself. While they were laughing at me, i told them there is no more to the art than touching the muscles, stimulating them, and relaxation to make one feel good. To teach me a lesson, i was given the first woman who walked in after the argument. She was middle-aged, and from her make-up and facial expression, i understood it's one of those cougars who refuse to accept their age. A mixed tape of soul music ran at the reception. I applied their massage oils to my hands and applied some on her too. First on her legs. I rubbed her thighs swiftly while blowing a little hot air to them from my lips. That's my thing, the
masseuses there didn't have this. I touched gently and proceeded up slowly. And by the time my hot whisper reached her ear, she was finished. She praised me a lot in front of the others.
After the cougar, a boy of about 28 entered. They motioned me to take care of him but i refused. As much as the massage is openly regarded as a muscle relaxation work, secretly it's a romantic procedure. It's an erotic stimulation procedure that many dare not admit.
My third customer was a french girl of about 25. Her parents and she had rented a cottage nearby. I thought i had struck gold and was determined to turn the massage into a pleasurable experience she would never forget. The problem was my dexterous hands excited her as much me. I thought there was this rule that a masseuse can touch you anywhere, guilt free. As professional as i wanted to appear, my hands refuse to obey. And from time to time they slipped. The french girl liked it so much that she began making sex noises. Her parents in the other massage rooms got concerned and found me fondling the twins when they came to check her up. The father got angry and started cursing from the top of his voice. Christine's uncle complained that i was going to ruin his business. I apologized but it seems it was not all forgiven with Christine. Her eyes turned scary red and stared at me like a king cobra who was ready to spit.
Massages ruined my relationship. Something this pleasurable being a reason for bitterness and heartbreak in relationships. Maybe because there are no rules. I think men should be massaged by girls. and girls should get their massages from girls, unless they are single. win-win.
