To subject myself to the rigors of a full-body massage and attempt to get a manual release.

State your hypothesis in the form of a prediction that can be verified by the results of the experiment.

No really, it's not my bag! But the thought of a hot stranger getting her hands on the goods is a little naughty. Is this what they mean by hands-on reporting?

Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including, if applicable, how they were obtained).

Massage parlor (one)

In this portion of your report, you must describe, step-by-step, what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.

Trying to find a massage establishment that offers a "happy ending" is no easy task, especially if you're not intimately familiar with a city's seedy underbelly. Luckily, Isabella just happened to know a "friend of a friend" who was aware of such a place. As directed, I went to a faceless building in midtown Manhattan, feeling more than a little sheepish. Although the thought of being interfered with by a beautiful, skilled masseuse was exciting fodder for my teenage dreams, by the day of reckoning I was a bundle of nerves.

I walked into the building's lobby and was greeted by a rotund man in a crumpled blue shirt that sported a blob of every condiment in the Heinz rainbow. I asked where the massage place was. He gestured to the basement, his verbal skills compromised by the two or three knishes he seemed to be masticating simultaneously. I headed down a flight of stairs that ended with an unmarked gray door. This led to another flight, and another and another. Curiouser and curiouser, I thought as I opened the final door into the softly lit lobby of a spa. The room contained a counter and a plush leather sofa that snugly accommodated four attractive Korean women between the ages of twenty and forty. "Hello," chirped the most senior both in age and standing, and she hopped up to get behind the counter. "Hi, I'd like the full massage," I stuttered, placing a clumsy and unnecessary-in-hindsight emphasis on the word "full." The younger women smiled at each other and me with a kind of curiosity that I would encounter on several more occasions this afternoon.

I was asked if I had been to the spa before. It was then that I became conscious, nay, extremely paranoid that anything I said could blow my cover. I said I hadn't. "Seventy-five dollar, cash," said the woman, who handed me a fresh towel, a crisp robe and a locker key affixed to a comically large chunk of lumber. "You follow me," she ordered and led me into the men's locker room. I use the words "locker room" loosely, as I'd never seen its like before. The "lockers" were made of an ornately carved, heavy dark wood; the floor was granite. A large marble sink and counter was covered with expensive soaps, aftershaves, deodorants, razors and shaving gels. I don't know what this says about the circles I run in, but this was the fanciest joint I'd ever seen! In the middle of the attractively lit room was a low bench with twenty pairs of sandals underneath it. "You shower, lock locker real good and keep key all time," the woman commanded. I nodded a little too much. She left the room, and I got changed. Looking around the changing room for signs of any other clients, I spied a pair of large black dress shoes tucked into the row of sandals. I hardly recognized my reflection as I stared back at the kimono-wearing dork in the mirror. I was just a ponytail and a copper bracelet away from becoming Steven Seagal.

Wearing a pair of grossly oversized sandals, I shuffled through an opaque glass door into a large granite-and-marble shower room. Five huge shower heads — the ones the circus uses for hosing down elephants — adorned the walls, and a steam room and sauna were nearby. With the Japano-futuristic look of the place, the gaggle of uniformly dressed Asian beauties around and the perception that I was several miles below the Earth's crust, I started to believe that I was living out one of my numerous James Bond-inspired dreams: Trapped in the belly of an evil corporation's lair, treated with the utmost courtesy while my movements are monitored by a team of beautiful-yet-deadly double agents.

I made my shower last. The water pressure at my apartment provides little more than an occasional moody trickle, so I took advantage of the high-pressure jet and used every soap, shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating body scrub, washcloth and loofah at my disposal. Feeling fresh as a daisy, I left the changing room and was assigned a masseuse. She was one of the older women, possibly in her late thirties, short and slight with a bob haircut and dressed in a clinical white uniform. She led me down a hallway to a small, demurely lit room, then told me to disrobe and lie stomach-down on the table, where there was an opening for my face. I skimmed my hand against the starched white tablecloth to see if there was a corresponding hole for my unit. Until this point, I hadn't really thought about how the pleasure would be administered. Simultaneously, all my daydreams about being on her majesty's secret service evaporated as I realized how quickly I crumble under questioning.

"My name Jung, what your name?" asked my inquisitor as she began to rub my neck . "Er . . . Jeff," I replied. Jeff? Where the fuck did that come from? "Oh," she said, sounding surprised and skeptical. Had she been through my locker and seen my ID? I started to sweat. "You live here, work here?" she asked as she covered my body in a thin, crisp linen sheet. "Yeah, I said, "in . . . Soho," "Oh," she replied. "What you do?" Butcher, baker, candlestick maker — any of those would have sufficed, but instead I blurted out, "I work for a magazine." Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What a total fuckwit. I might as well have told her that I was with the NYPD vice squad. I quickly followed up by qualifying that I worked for a publication about fishing. "Oh ma gah!" said Jung, sounding disturbingly interested. Christ! Who was Soho Jeff from Rods and Reels? What's with the third degree already? I decided that as long as Jung didn't start questioning me about the ins and outs of koi carp, I would shut my stupid mouth and get this experiment back on track.

Jung went to work, digging her fingers into the painful nooks of my neck and shoulders. I heard a muffled guy's voice in the room next to mine. First, it sounded like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons, but after a few sentences, I could pick out certain words. "Wah wah wah Wall Street," "Wah wah banking wah", and, most memorably, "wah wah you're a very beautiful girl wah wah" Ew. Other than that, all I could hear was the purr of the air conditioning and the popping sounds emanating from each of my joints that were subjected to Jung's digitry. During a few neck adjustments, I thought I could hear an offensive line prancing over ten yards of bubble wrap.

Jung rubbed my body through the sheet, first with her hands and then with her feet. She walked on my back, steadying herself by holding onto a ceiling-mounted pole. I couldn't enjoy her mastery; my mind was too preoccupied with the impending transition from massage to handjob. At one point, she stopped touching me for about fifteen seconds, and I couldn't tell where she was in the room. Out of nowhere, she grabbed my thigh, and I flinched. "You nervous!" she chuckled and gave me two firm pats to the buttocks. She wasn't wrong. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Jung's touch felt great, but I wasn't turned on in the slightest. She removed the sheet and traced her fingers up and down my legs, bum, inner thighs and any parts of my undercarriage that she could get her crafty fingers on. I could hear the door to the little room open and close. Being face down and looking the opposite way, I couldn't see what was going on. Was Jung exhibiting some unnoticed birthmark to her co-workers? "You sunburn!" said Jung, and she started picking at the peeling skin atop my shoulders. "Oh ma gah!" she whispered.

That's not sexy. For a second I thought she was going to have a pick at my bacne too. She turned my head to inflict some more pain to my neck area, and we saw each other face-to-face for the first time in forty-five minutes. Jung was very attractive and kind looking; she wore plum-colored lipstick. "Oh ma gah!" she exclaimed. "You just boy! How old you?" Jeff, like me, is twenty-five.

Quantify the effects of the experiment.

"You want everything?" she asked in a slightly hushed voice. Thank Christ for that. I was almost ready to employ the same downward-pointing motion the slob at the door had used an hour earlier. "Yes!" I said. "Really?" she sounded surprised. "Young boy like you? Oh ma gah!" She told me to turn over and I did. As Jung turned her back to get the necessary lotion, I looked down, horrified at my uninterested rig. My nerves had gotten the better of me, and it seemed that I wouldn't be giving Jung much to work with. She sat her bum down on the table, her feet either side of my torso. She applied the cream to my twig-and-berries and gently started to run her fingers around them with a motion that was, in truth, a little too effective. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look. I stared at her face and tried to make eye contact, but Jung was looking at what she was doing: a rubbing, coaxing, snake-charming type maneuver, in absolute silence. In a matter of seconds, I had gone from willing my old chap to look alive to thinking about baseball. But Jung had a mind to get it all over with, and within an embarrassingly short period of time, she took me from a standing start to an orgasm. So deft was the operation that I wasn't even at full mast when I dropped sauce. It all felt pretty weak, the ejaculation rather unexplosive. Jung pointed my knob up and off to one side until I was all done. She cleaned up with a paper towel as I closed my eyes and tried to come to terms with her brand of blitzliebe.

I opened my eyes and saw her leave the room. I felt like calling out, "This is the bit where I like to hug," but it probably wouldn't have done any good. Jung was all business. I got back into my robe and padded out into the main area. Smiling, Jung handed me a fresh towel and directed me into the shower room. Passing one silver fox in the changing room and another in the shower room, I headed straight into the sauna to think about what had just happened and gleek onto the hot coals. I looked through the sauna's window at the tan, manicured moneymen whiling away another Tuesday lunchtime. A coiffed gent joined me in the sauna for a minute, going "phew" every few seconds and spreading his legs as if he were exhibiting some rare breed of plum in a nest of salt-and-pepper-colored pubes. After the heat and steam, I took a cool shower and got dressed. Jung was waiting behind the counter. I gave her my fold of bills, which she unabashedly counted twice before giving me a wink, a thank you, a business card and a "we see you again soon, I know!" Her smiling co-workers waved goodbye as I began my climb to the Earth's surface.

Summarize your findings. Don't forget to attempt to identify possible variables that could result in different findings for others trying to recreate your test results.

I really felt like a fish out of water at the spa, considering that I was a decade or two younger than most of the clientele and didn't carry enough pocket lettuce to buy Belgium. My excitement and arousal during the experience was somewhat compromised by a creeping feeling of sleaziness despite, or perhaps because of, the spa's ritzy ambience. The whole geisha-girl feel of the place — and the way the high-finance geezers lapped it up — made me feel like more of a john than I would have liked. I was left with questions about how Jung and the other women view the happy ending. Sure, it's probably pretty non-sexual and mechanical for them, like helping someone scratch an itch. But for most of their clients, it's undoubtedly more than that. I wondered how far the girls go in accommodating their clients' needs. In my case, Jung treated me to a couple of suggestive, "Oh ma ga's!" and a series of winks, but she stopped short of casting her eyes anywhere near mine when doing the deed. I wonder how the women's husbands and boyfriends deal with their profession. Are they as pragmatic and unimpressed as the women seem to be? I wonder if the full massage is viewed differently in Korea. In India, for example, it used to be common for barbers to fellate their customers after a shave and a haircut. Ultimately, I had to deal with the fact that I crossed a line. It's a terrible cliche, but I found that sex without any emotional attachment, or even mutual satisfaction, was a slightly chilling experience.

© 2002, Inc.

Commentarium (59 Comments)

Jul 11 02 - 1:03pm

great writing, great story

Jul 11 02 - 1:29pm

Bless you, Grant, you were just what I need today. I'm going back to read it again as I was laughing so much the first time, I kept losing the thread. Thanks again.

Jul 11 02 - 1:56pm

Good article. I've never been able to work up the nerve to get an escort-chic or visit one of these places.

Regarding the last paragraph just after the sentence: "I was left with questions about how Jung and the other women..." Yeah, I've always wondered about this stuff too. The personalities of the females in this business are incomprehensible to me. Obviously, my brain processes this sex stuff incorrectly. Interesting article.

Nov 09 11 - 3:49pm

After an awesome orgasmic oil massage and handjob, I asked the lady (who looked 36) about herfamily. She said, she was 51 and had a colleage-going son! I wondered how they deal with this family versus profession issue.......................

Jul 11 02 - 2:50pm

will these places attend to a female looking for a little wick-wack from a stranger?
where are the ladies scientists at?

Dec 19 11 - 1:14pm
Big Hands

Shall we exchange addresses?

Jul 11 02 - 4:01pm

As always, Grant's honesty and genuineness help "make" the story. But I agree with one of the other commentors--Em and Lo (or someone ... maybe Isablle, since she is SO helpful) need to get a bit "scientific" too.

Jul 11 02 - 4:06pm

we need a female version of Grant!

Jul 11 02 - 4:12pm

Funny stuff. I lived in Korea and I find that this sort of thing and even full on prostitution is indeed viewed much more pragmatically, like just another job, albeit a shitty one. I have also been to these sorts of places in small, blue-collar midwestern towns and there the girls often make the experience more erotic and less clinical, though the general air of sleaziness/dirtiness is of course far greater

Jul 11 02 - 6:41pm

Grant again does a masterful job. His writing is incredibly human and insightful, almost as though he were taking notes in a diary form while this was going on (which, of course, he wasn't... right?). Great job again, Grant. Consistently the best and most entertaining writing on Nerve.

Jul 11 02 - 9:13pm

Come to San Francisco... We have an area of the city called the "Tenderloin". they have many "massage" parlors there...
try one...

Jul 11 02 - 9:18pm

Wonderful as usual Grant! The perfect mix of "oh my gah" and "OH MY GOD" (the writing I mean)
Any chance of you visiting Seattle? I wouldn't know about the "massage" parlours but I'd love to by you a drink!
-Insomniac Girl

Jul 12 02 - 4:57pm

I think it's amazing that no one seems to have done this before.

Well I have, not just a few times, both in parlors (sometimes successfully, sometimes not), and sometimes with private call girls (always at their place, not mine). (I also have picked up girls on the street for covered blowjobs, but ultimately found it unsatisfying on just about every level.)

Here's a trick I learned: they can't take the sheet off, but you can, which gives them a clue. Usually, you pay a set fee up front, and take more into the room for a tip. $50 is a good starting place for a handjob, and up from there.

The best parlor experience I ever had was in NY, also an unmarked place with a whole lineup of Asian girls, and I got to choose (very important!); mine was young and petite, accompanied me in the shower to bathe me herself, climbed all over me during the "massage", and kept going from there.

I've used one incall girl in particular, who is very sweet, very physical, and gives the best hand I've ever had--I can't wait to see her again. For that matter, I've also gone once to a gay man, and had a great experience with some mutual play that was very erotic, and stoppped short of orgasm (my choice).

I see this whole culture in very pragmatic terms. I love my partner dearly, but sex is a minimally-satisfying part of our relationship. Having the freedom to have these physical experiences with people who are practiced at it--well, frankly, it keeps me sane in my relationship.

Jul 12 02 - 6:40pm

Grant: I bet you got paid more for that handjob (writing about it) than the girl did for doing it. So it's really like YOU'RE the bigger prostitute. Oh Grant, you slut. I miss you! Love, Mommy

Jul 12 02 - 7:06pm

Grant i loved it. I added to my favorites so that i can check in more regularly for your writing.

Jul 12 02 - 11:08pm

I'm a massage therapist, and I loved this story!

Jul 13 02 - 11:26am

I've had a special massage a few times and have had varying experiences. I suppose I have been about 3 times over the years. I learned you are supposed to say "Yes" when they ask if you have been there before. They charge you less and give you a younger hotter girl. Which leps alot. All three of the girls had basically the sam going through the motions, mechanical attitude that simply cannot replicate a feeling of intimacy and affection we get from someone who we actually don't have to pay to touch us. Still there is a time and place for everything, and on the occasions I went I didn't really expect to leave with a girlfriend but perhaps a bit more tension relief than your ordinary massage. I would say the attractiveness of the girl has everything to do with it. The one time I had an older unenthused massuese I too could hardly get it up. But on another occasion I had a young and busty(naturally) massuese and I stood at full attention and quite delited in her masseuging my joy prong. I imagine they enjoy it a bit more if you are at least alert down there since they know it won't take as long. After those few times I couldn't bring myself to go back though, it was just too mechnical and sleazy, and not fulfilling what I was truly seeking which was a feeling of connection through affection. These people are not surrogate lovers, they view it as a job, hard physical labor without pleasure, even though the acts and motions are meant for just that which is an irony that bothered me too deeply to continue such pursuits. However should you get the itch again, make sure you say you have been there before and I have heard you can request a different girl if you don't like the one your with. Still a better investment is to give the money you spend there to a homeless person and chill out in a bar with some vicoden and vodka.

Jul 13 02 - 9:04pm

You just found the wrong place! I occasionally frequent a place where the happy ending isn't quite the ending. (I got in with a friend and gain entrance by a tap on the back door). First thing, you don't wash yourself, they wash you. They dry you. They even undress you first. Then onto the massage room, holding hands the whole way. The massage begins, from head to toe, until the "roll over" part comes. After the happy ending, they get a hot towel and clean you thoroughly. Then a face massage and whatever else she feels like, I guess. She dresses you and sends you on your way. All for 60 bucks... plus tip.

Jul 14 02 - 1:08pm

Once a honored profession, the art of the paid intimate now dwells in secrecy, in hiding, back alleys or well protected high class joints. Many who are sex workers do so because the pay is better than other jobs they can get or they do not have many other choices. There are some however who do this work because it is what they believe in, they love it and view it as being much needed in the world. These individuals who are the 'sacred intimates' come to their work with a touch of humanity, intimacy, care for the individual who places their trust and body into the hands of these skilled lovers. And they also take as much care in making a connection with the person if it is a hand job or much more. These individuals are much harder to find though which is sad but they exist and are making a difference in the expression of sexuality.

Jul 16 02 - 9:56am

So, here's where you conclude: "It's a terrible clich

Jul 17 02 - 12:54am

As a professional mariner, I am always fascinated by the way people in this country view the "happy ending".
The simple fact of the matter is that things that are illegal in America are not only legal but encouraged pretty much everywhere else.
My advice is to simply enjoy yourself responsibly and if you want a hug afterwards, get a girlfriend.

Jul 18 02 - 10:50pm

I'd have to agree with TJ and Nomi, the writing was way too prissy and somewhat slyly supercilious. Grant seems a little too pleased with his youth through his sidelong slights at the older guys (though Wall Street types are always fair game in my book). And the writing was really callow and, dare I say, unstimulating?

Finally, what's the big deal? There's even a strange morality in paid sex, of whatever variety. Which is sleazier: to enter into a romance when you are only partially interested but sex-starved or to garner some satisfaction while you search for real love? Other cultures are, and our culture used to be, much more sensible about these things.

My personal experience with this was accidental. I went to a new place to get shiatsu (which I have received for years) after wrenching my shoulder swimming. The masseuse was 3/4 done with a so-so massage similar to Grant's when she touched the sheet over my penis and asked simply "You want?" While unexpected, I simply answered yes. She then went out, got some lotion, and gave me a magnificent hand-job. She then finished the regular massage. Happily, I left any Western guilt with my cares outside those steam-shrouded walls.

Jul 19 02 - 4:36pm

You guys should pay either Toronto or Montreal a visit. While Toronto has a lot more places, Montreal can offer some amazing experiences. My best was a two-girl 1 hr session where, for $120 Canadian, I had both of them completely nude on a queen-sized bed massaging me simultaneously.
I could play with their pussies, suck their breasts, and they even played with my anus without being asked. They will even have sex with each other, if asked, for a bit extra.
Basically, anything goes, except penetration.
While a handjob at the end is pretty much guaranteed in Toronto, it sometimes has to be specified or paid extra for in Montreal.

Jul 19 02 - 4:47pm

You forgot to mention the tip? How much? Before the final act, no doubt.

Jul 19 02 - 9:29pm

Hey lw,
I'm not sure if it's my post you're referring to but I'll answer anyway. The $120 CAN everything I mentioned. A blowjob was $20 per girl - that is, if I wanted to sample the cocksucking skills of each, it was up to me to choose one or the other or both. Buying a blowjob automatically entitled me to eat pussy of the girl(s) I tipped, if I so desired.
I should point out that this was a freakin' bargain in my experience, in any city but that may have been because these two were university students operating out of their own apartment.
Still, I was pretty amazed at what I could get in Montreal although it took some looking.
I found a spa in the downtown area with showers in every room where $50 got you a one hour massage. The girl I got,
charged $20 for each "extra" - handjob, topless, bottomless, nude reverse. The amazing thing about her was that she permitted fingering of her anus with an oiled finger - I've met masseuses who didn't mind or even claimed to like having their rosebuds tingled but none ever touching with a lubricated digit. And, she was mighty good and unhurried about electrifying my brown eye.

Can't wait to take another trip there.

Jul 19 02 - 10:48pm

Get the fuck over it. I hope you didn't whine like that during the massage. If it was that "chilling", tear up the check you got for the story.

Jul 20 02 - 1:21am

Hey Nerve!!!

I got this edition 2nite (7/19) and there are comments all the way back to 7/11. What goes on? East coast bias???

Grant rocks & writes like he's getting paid to rock. This is a good thing.

Rock on.

Jul 22 02 - 12:59am

This was too funny. Now, Grant, you'll have to learn how to receive a REAL massage. Deep body massage with muscle release is like having multiple orgasms without anyone touching your genitals. It involves meditation, specific breathing techniques and energy flow on both the practitioner's part and the recipient's body parts. I would rather mind fuck while being deeply kinesthetically manipulated, than have to worry about where my masseuse is going to wipe his or her hand after drenching it with my pussy. The whole, true point of massage is relaxation and recentering, not cumming, anyway! *giggle*snort*grin*

Jul 21 02 - 6:35pm

nice article; I love your column. I was surprised they didn't offer to do more for you.

Jul 22 02 - 2:14pm

uhah! lol.

Aug 12 02 - 1:16pm

Hows it goin Grant- its little rossi miller. Nice picture of u havin ya back massaged.

Oct 22 02 - 3:53pm

Not sure I can take you for your word.

Where can I do my own scientific experiment? :)

Aug 05 07 - 8:13am

Funny story and I think I've been to this place too. I got the table shower and really loved the attention they girls pay to you. My massage was great and the ending one worth remembering. The place was very clean and the sauna/steam great. I too was surprised at how little time it took me to come but by the time we got to that part I was very ready - what a little foreplay can do for you!

Sep 22 07 - 12:58am

Ohhhh, booo hoooo. Emotionally unsatisfying, slightly sleazy, eh? When you wrote that, I did not know if you were describing your won feelings, or that of the poor soul in charge of you during this massage.

I would not be surprised if the Chief Editor of your magazine is a chick, and you have to make your findings evoke the "better" nature of men, and the damming eyes of women.

Ever wonder why this happy ending ritual is so prevalent, and impervious to law enforcement effots to erradicate it?

That is what the real Q & A of your article should focus on. If you did it, and did it honestly the essence of this article would be different, instead of simply pathetic.

You big baby !

Dec 09 07 - 4:25pm

Dear Grant,
I loved you article on Happy Endings. I would like to get one for my boyfriend as a gift, could you point me in the right direction? Thanks very much.

Dec 14 07 - 5:54pm

Well you have to look at it this way, it is a massage and you do tend to get worked up so I guess the happy ending is a great plus for most. I personally would like to know where this place is....for science as well, lets just leave it at that.

Dec 14 07 - 5:55pm

By the way the e-mail is

Oct 18 09 - 1:17am

This is great! I've never heard of anyone actually going to one of these places. I've been to San Fran and I can attest to the impressive number of massage "parlors" (Swedish, French, Japanese, etc., etc.). This is my first time at this site and I look forward to reading more of your articles, Grant. Thanks!

Jan 12 10 - 9:33pm

As for what their husbands and boyfriends think? Are you kidding me? You'll have to ask the mamasans. I am glad to hear you felt like a have contributed to something sleezy!

Feb 04 10 - 3:25pm

AM girl with the newyork email adress at sounds like a cop. hahahah Can you tell me where to go, I want to get one for my boyfriend. Riggghhhht. haha

Feb 05 10 - 7:51pm

great article. i am going to go get a "full" massage right now...

Feb 13 10 - 9:57pm

Now I understand why me, a real massage therapist, licensed who doesn't do illegal activities has to put up with all the crap from clients. It is offensive, everyday to hear what do you do for $60 or what do you do for $120 and then they don't understand when you explain your craft. Therapeutic means, an educated, confident person who doesn't do illegal activities. I am a massage therapist. It sickens me to hear these things constantly. Try a real massage, it is for your health and well being. Go to a prostitute if you want a happy ending.

Mar 15 11 - 12:30pm

It's a shame a lot of people don't understand the differences. Yes some people that give massages do happy endings and I personally don't hold a positive or negative opinion since it does allow people to relieve stress who maybe can't (some people just aren't good with relationships/women) and has it's place, but when it bleeds over into the actual Massage Therapist realm it becomes bothersome. Real massage therapists who are extremely skilled usually have Kinesiology degrees and are close to (or maybe at) the level of a Physical therapist which means college, grad school, independent certifications etc. Learning to manipulate the myofascile tissue and completely control the muscles and tissues of the body is extremely scientific and difficult, not just pleasurable rubbing and I would be highly offended if when using all the knowledge I've acquired to relieve someones muscle issues, they ask me if I'd jerk them off. Again if people want a happy ending go to the right kind of place and avoid medical/science based practices; just because it is expensive doesn't mean they have hotter girls to polish your knob. A happy ending from a really educated massage therapist using their techniques would probably break down the tissue in your dick and cause painful boners/impotence for weeks so watch out because someday someone might get to pissed they apply their principles on your cock.

May 01 10 - 8:29pm

hey i have one for you call me biiitttccchhhh

Jun 02 10 - 11:25pm
ok sauce

My first experience of this was unexpected. Backpacking a few years ago I stopped in Tokyo en route to OZ all wound up from the flight and a persistent sinus infection. To help get myself up for yet another 12 hour flight on an impulse I went for a massage. Massage was good and masseuse chatty and attractive. I flipped over under the towel and still no pennies dropped. Her hands made passes all around my groin and lo and behold was getting tingly there, she had a crafty touch. "You wan special massage?" she whispered in my ear. I nodded. Why not? She whipped out the oil and I have to say I've never been touched like it. I had no chance. She took me to the edge and let go several times and when I did come I was all hers. Amazingly skilful and impoossible to resist. I'm even getting a stiffy just thinking about it. My orgasm was so intense my groin actually ached for a while after.

Oct 01 10 - 11:10pm

Yes, sure, I like it, Interesting and educational. Please continue to write more interesting post in your website.

Oct 10 10 - 8:02pm

Hilarious! Here in australia, my mates all use a website called '' (no joke) - all the businesses listed there provide 'Happyendings' in Sydney and Melbourne, hence there is no mucking about.

Dec 04 10 - 7:29am

I normally hate reading, but that's the funniest thing I ever read! I can totally relate to your feeling with the cliche thing at the end. It all sounds like a good idea, til you get there and realize that it's shit and how your mum would be disgusted.

Feb 08 11 - 9:07pm
Serial Alayna

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Feb 08 11 - 11:48pm
Crack Mayra

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Feb 18 11 - 12:36am

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Feb 18 11 - 6:18am
Serial Amaris

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Feb 18 11 - 2:14pm

Hi greatest place in the planet is this. best in world.I’ve no words for my country.. I like old forts.I’ve lived in Indian Cities.

Feb 19 11 - 4:08pm

ha-ha-ha-ha! That is standart point of view, be more original!

Apr 18 11 - 10:51pm
Mr Mike

Amazing. This story has been getting comments for nine years.

May 22 11 - 3:36pm

The majority of people in our society seem to equate sex with love and vice versa. While sex is an important part of a loving monogamous relationship it is not necessary to have a committed relationship to desire or enjoy engaging in a sexual encounter. I tend to liken it to gold prospecting. Where you find gold you always find black sand but when you find black sand it does not mean that you will find gold. Black sand is really great sex with someone you like and find attractive while gold is when you discover the relationship that you may or may not ultimately desire. It is really criminal that we have allowed guilt and shame to tarnish the beauty of a wonderful gift from our Creator. That seems to be a recurring trait in the human species. We spoil everything that we get our hands on. LOL

Jun 25 11 - 3:08pm

You know, you cant beat the healing complete relaxation of a massage with a happy middle. It ashamed the everyone is so uptight about "private parts". Perhaps some day everyone will grow up and face the fact that we should all be free to enjoy our bodies without judgment from society's backward stigmas. Its not good or bad, it just is...

A degree in massage is not all that complete and does not treat the whole person. I have been to both types and both and both are often "cheap", but some people really get it right. It just takes a specific understanding that does not come from a degree or someone just making some money pretending to give massages, but from someone who really cares about the well-being of every person they treat, and has the ability to gauge or communicate just what that person needs.

Nov 19 11 - 6:41pm
Another Jeff

How do people know if the place gives happy endings?

Sep 23 11 - 12:53am

As a woman, I've found happy ending massages readily available in Toronto and Montreal, but until recently could not find anything for women in my home city of New York. It was worth the wait. The first time I visited herprivatepleasures, I was tingling down there for days. I now get my fix of "therapeutic touch" there every month, and I am a happier, healthier person for it.