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  • Flashback: Bulgarian rubdown

    da0fc3c5c128977321cae0e55f86790d.jpg(No, not shakedown. It wasn't a typo or error in meaning.)

    "I only provide oil massage, with my full body. If you want sex, you're calling the wrong girl okay? You can try somewhere else for that," said the low, husky female voice with an accent at the other end of the line.

    It took me a while to get to her place, which she had advertised as the venue for her very specific service - body-to-body oil massage with her clothes completely or partially off, and relief at the end, with absolutely no sex involved. I got her point on the phone, loud and clear.

    Tanya greeted me at the door in heels and a figure-hugging short dress that flattered her. She had black hair and was nicely-tanned (I suspect, at a tanning salon). As we introduced ourselves, and after she made sure I was who I said I was, she beckoned me to follow her to her room. On the way there I caught a glimpse of her co-worker (and flatmate) in the living room, and whom apparently also provided similar services.  

    I should be more precise when I mentioned 'accent' earlier; what I meant was that Elena had an accent that was not local. She was Bulgarian and had been in the country for nearly a year. It was just an interesting talking to her as it was to strip off, lie down on a heated portion of the bed, and let her start ministering to me with her already-warmed hands. This was something I haven't done, or had it done to me, in a long while. 

    It was winter at the time, and the contrast with the outside was pretty tangible. At that moment, it was all good. 

    "Do you want me to take everything off, or leave some things on?" she asked as she stepped out of her dress. 

    "I dunno...what do you normally do?"

    "It's up to the customer. Some like everything off, some prefer me in my lingerie."

    I decided that I wanted her to keep her panties on, and she did just that. The bikini panties was crimson. It was in a very nice cut, and a nice shade of colour. Her breasts were medium-sized and looked firm, well within range of preference. 

    As she massaged me, she gradually opened up to me about how she arrived in this cold and damp Australasian-antipodean city. I think her home country is somewhat similar, but still more pleasant in other ways. But anyway. 

    So. A result of a match-making agency arrangement turned sour. Or a falling out of personalities and irreconciliable differences in expectations. Or something else darker, maybe. Whatever it really was, Tanya was now bereft of her Kiwi ex-husband but didn't seem too upset about it. She was now alone in the country, without family and giving sexual massages while looking for something better. (She had formal training in some field of work but I forgot what it was.)

    There was a book in English by her bedside, and we talked a bit about reading, books, literature and learning English. I gave her the name of a Bulgarian-born writer who was about her age (late 20s-early 30s) and making waves in the local and European modern literary scene. She was a little intrigued and said she would check her out. 

    I found Tanya easy to talk to, in spite of any perceived cultural differences or language barriers. I had to admit that her accent only enhanced my experience of oil being rubbed all over me, stark naked, first with her hands, then with her breasts. I won't pretend that she genuinely liked me, but we had a good rapport and she had a first-class customer service attitude.  

    Eventually she asked me to turn over. When her hands started to fondle my erect penis, then smartly snapped on a condom and rolled it over, then proceeded with her lips and mouth to suck on me, it took quite an effort to control myself.

    "May I touch you?" I asked.

    "Sure."

    There was no help for it, and I'm glad she gave me the go-ahead. So I put my hands on her sides and back while she continued sucking and made all the right noises. Even in my horny and semi-delirious state, I could tell she was putting in good effort and fully taking me into her mouth. I gripped her a bit tighter, feeling her smooth tanned skin beneath mine, her svelte body fleshy and real in all the right places. 

    And then I came, while Tanya made coming noises with me. As I shuddered my pleasure, the aroma of massage oil became sharper even as I started to cool off. But I didn't care. I was a happy chappie. 

    When I left shortly after, I wished Tanya all the best. I never saw her again; in fact she stopped advertising in the papers not too long after my visit. She might've found a better line of work, or even left the city or country.

    Whatever happened to her, I hope she's well and taking care of herself, if she's not also still taking care of others as a service provider. And giving first-class Bulgarian rubdowns.