“Calm, relaxing massages by exceptionally pretty masseuses skilled in the art of manual release. Come visit our dreamy pleasure pad and experience our full menu of massage variations.” This item caught my eye when I was leafing through a sexually oriented newspaper.

I was immediately intrigued, for friends of mine had told me stories of how wonderful these massages can feel: Not only do these girls give you an invigorating massage, they also jerk you off with great dexterity. I decided to give it a try.

I called the listed number from my office one afternoon. A woman answered and gave me a little more information. I asked her if I could make an appointment for six that evening. She told me to call back to confirm at five o’clock. When I called back, she told me I should call from a phone booth at a certain intersection.

After a quick trip to a cash machine, I found the correct phone booth and dialed the number. The same woman answered and directed me across the street to the basement entrance of an apartment building. I rang the bell and was greeted by a stunningly beautiful yet mature woman. She was perhaps in her late thirties, with long, straight, chestnut-brown hair. Her face was round and wide, with huge dark eyes and a friendly smile. She introduced herself as Sabina and invited me in with a voice that had a slight Eastern European accent.

The “pleasure pad” was one room — a small space, about fifteen by thirty. Dominating this room was an examination table sitting directly in the center. There was an armchair off to the side and a large cabinet at one end, and a credenza with a phone and answering machine ran along the far wall. Shadows cast by flickering candles danced across the room.

I asked Sabina if she ran a one-woman operation. “No, there are five of us,” she said. I couldn’t imagine any of the other four women being more beautiful than she.

Sabina asked me if I wanted to take a shower. I accepted the offer. It was a hot day, and I was more than a bit nervous about this, so I was perspiring heavily. I undressed right in front of her, as the bathroom was small. I left my clothes on the arm-chair, took the towel which was offered me and showered.

When I came out of the bathroom, Sabina told me to lie down on the table. I did as requested, lying facedown. I must say I felt a little bit like a baby on a bearskin rug. She then ran through the menu of options. A half-hour massage was sixty-five dollars, eighty-five for an hour. I went for the hour. Sabina also explained that she would give the massage topless for an extra twenty dollars, nude for forty. A prostate massage was thirty-five dollars. Since I like to include anal contact in my sexual encounters, I decided to go for the prostate massage, and to have Sabina nude.

She demurely went behind a changing screen at the foot of the table. When she emerged I noted that she had a very nice body — very fit — her breasts round and capped by dark-red nipples. Her thatch of pubic hair was the same color as the hair on her head. From my position on the table, it was not easy to drink in her nudity, at least not without craning my neck in uncomfortable positions. I realized that when I rolled over, I would get a better look, so I was content to bide my time.

Sabina asked me if I wanted a light massage or a deep one. I opted for a deep massage. She then asked me if I minded if she used lotion. I didn’t, so she squirted some into her hands and began the massage. She started with my upper back, and right away I knew I was in for a treat. Her strong fingers kneading my back had me in a blissful state swiftly, and I was sure that Sabina knew what she was doing. Slowly, inexorably, she worked her way down my back, smoothing away kinks and bumps that had tied my muscles in knots.

Her soothing ministrations soon centered on my neck and shoulders. Then her hands moved down to my ass. Now I was really feeling good. Her deft fingers alternated between a soft caressing and a firm massaging of my buttocks. A soft smile of joy crept across my face. Outside I heard the sounds of the street. Little did the pedestrians know that a mere twenty feet away was a man receiving a top-knotch rubdown from a beautiful naked woman.

Before long Sabina crawled up on the table between my legs and began to massage the backs of my thighs. I moaned my approval, my cock hardening beneath me. Classical flute music was playing in the background and the candlelight danced on the walls as she worked my legs over, runnning her palms up and down my flesh.

I lost all track of time and had begun to feel very sleepy when Sabina said I could roll over. I did so, once again glorying in her beautiful nudity. My cock, half-hard, lolled against my stomach. Sabina stood behind my head and ran her fingers across my chest. Then she worked on my face and neck, paying special attention to my forehead and temples. This woman was thorough!

After rubbing down my arms and hands, pulling on each finger separately, Sabina made long-drawn-out movements down my chest and stomach, applying gentle but firm pressure on a spot just below my navel but above my pubic bone. My cock began to stand up and take notice.

Once again she went down my legs, inch by inch, until she was at my feet, which she rubbed gently. Every part of me felt loose and relaxed, except for my cock, which was beginning to feel left out. Sabina went to the cabinet behind me and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. Now his was what I’d been waiting for.

She climbed up on the table between my legs. I put my hands beneath my head so I could see her better. How beautiful she was — so sexy, yet motherlike. “For the prostate massage, you’ll need to raise your knees,” she said softly. I did as she asked as she commenced rubbing my balls and inserting a finger in my asshole.

I had experimented during masturbationwith inserting a finger in my ass, but it had never done anything for me. In the hands of a professional, though, the feeling was marvelous. She fucked my ass with her fingers as I gazed rhapsodically at her marvelous form. My cock was now fully hard, and she grasped it firmly with her free hand.

Gradually she picked up the pace, masturbating me with sure, confident strokes. How many men had she done this for? I thought. But soon I banished that idea from my mind, because it really felt as if she were catering to me and me alone, seeing to my special needs. Oh, how lovely it felt! This gifted woman’s hands slid up and down my greased pole like a real virtuoso’s.

Sabina looked into my eyes and smiled warmly. “Are you close?” she whispered, her hand flying up and down my cock. I looked over at the clock and realized that my time was almost up. “Yes,” I managed to croak, laying my head back and willing myself to relax completely. Seconds later the come issued out of me like a fountain, most of it shooting up past my head onto the table, the rest coating my chest and stomach.

Matter-of-factly Sabina climbed down and wiped up my seed with some paper towels. “Rest a minute,” she said comfortingly. “If you want to take another shower, go ahead.” With that she disappeared behind the changing screen. After a few minutes, I climbed down and took another shower, washing away the residue of lotion that coated my body.

When I came back Sabina had dressed, looking for all the world like a woman ready to go on a Sunday stroll, nothing like a professional masseuse who specializes in “manual release.” I dressed as she took a call from another client. I then handed her $160, plus a twenty-dollar tip that she appreciated.

Before I left, Sabina told me that if I wanted to come back, I should identify myself by my first name and the first initial of my last name. I filed that information away, for I certainly would be making a return visit.

Seconds later I found myself back on the street, feeling thoroughly tranquil, completely at peace with the world. Memories of the massage I received from Sabina’s magic hands would not quickly fade.