This story from victorsev has been read 5 8 5 3 times. It was the end of the dry season in Singapore and the pavement temperatures soared to 35C. I had been walking all morning site seeing. My tee shirt hung, sweat wet and limp, my underpants were wringing wet. I was tired of being hassled by tuk tuk drivers and sidewalk vendors. On going in there were many attendant spa staff all dressed in distinctive red uniforms.
Using my credit card I paid for an hour full body relaxing oil massage. My allocated female attendant was an Indian woman. She took my hand and led me up the steep staircase to find a vacant cubicle. We went up three floors before a suitable cubicle was found.
The cubicles were made of plaster board with walls only going 1. Neither soundproof or private. I asked if I could take a shower before the massage. There was a stool in the cubicle on which I put my damp clothes, and with only a towel around my waist I was taken to the showers, more of a large wet room.
She kept putting her head in the door and asking if everything was alright. I returned refreshed to the cubicle where she was waiting. Just then we were joined by another female attendant. I guessed that they did not get many white men here and I was a bit of a curiosity. They then each clasped the front of the towel and removed it with a flourish letting it drop to the floor. I stood stark naked before them my package fully exposed for both to examine, which they did.
This is when they decided it was time for introductions. Standing naked in their presence I did not feel embarrassed if anything a little proud showing off my white body to these two young ladies. I had visions of a four handed full body massage. The massage bed was there and they hand indicated for me to get on, with touchy hands helping me.
