Escaping my hiding place - Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN


“Always be open to new experiences;

Everything you have ever loved you had to try for a first time once!”


Onto session one, clothes shopping, where upon Hannah led me to a second hand clothes shop. Upon entering, I would have to say, the clothes really looked like people had donated them because what else are you going to do with your grandfathers clothes fifty years after he was dead? Most of the stuff on the racks looked old and ratty, lots of holes in things, and clothes that were so out of style it was even obvious to me.

I began to look through the first rack with a turned up nose and an unimpressed demeanor, until Hannah instructed me to “JUST SIT IN THE CORNER AND WAIT OK!” So I went and sat on an old arm chair which sat in the corner, and had those really thick springs which you can feel trying to break the leather and penetrate your skin.

I sat and watched a young couple looking at clothes together. They were the grimiest looking couple I had ever seen. They both had very similar messed up shaggy haircuts and really baggy old looking clothes. The guy had thick mutton chop side burns and looked like an English musician from the nineteen sixties. And the girl looked like she belonged on the streets of ....San Francisco.... preaching about making love not war and how nice pretty flowers were. They were searching down the racks together, and the guy would keep pulling out old suit jackets and holding it up in front of himself and ask “How about this one?” The girl would just shake her head and then they would move on down the rack and repeat this over and over.

They made for quite an unattractive couple really. Yet I still couldn’t help to feel jealous of them. They just carried themselves in a way which screamed out “hey we’re in love with each other”. I started thinking to myself how it was weird that different people wanted completely different things from a partner. I mean to me she was actually quite unappealing. But to him she was probably the most beautiful girl in the world. And yet a girl I might find gorgeous he might think was a dog.

I started to think that maybe the fact that I was so consistently rejected by girls wasn’t that I was actually unattractive, it was just that girl’s probably only find like five percent of guys really attractive, only every girl has a different group in this percent bracket. Sure there are probably some guys, like Brad Pitt or someone, who make most girls lists. But for average people like myself, we probably only make five to ten percent of girls lists. So that I could be sitting on a bus stop next to another guy, and two girls could walk past and one find me attractive and him ugly, and one find me ugly and him cute. So I just had to find the right girls who would have a guy like me in their percent bracket. I wasn’t sure if that was a comforting thought or a completely disheartening thought.

Suddenly a huge pile of clothes were dropped on top of me, covering my entire upper body and face. “Ok follow me” I heard Hannah say muffled through all the clothes. I struggled to my feet trying to hold all these clothes and followed Hannah into a change room area. She instructed me to drop all the clothes on the floor in front of the change room and get inside. She then shuffled though the pile and picked out a few items, handed them to me, pulled the curtain closed in front of me and said to put them on.

I sorted through the few items she had given me, and found a red t-shirt with the slogan ‘Talk to me’ written on the front in graffiti style, a pair of very funky looking jeans with all sorts of detail and lines on the front, and a zip up blue hooded jacket. I slowly started to put all this gear on, until I heard from outside “Hurry up Jas, or this will take forever”, so I sped up. When I was dressed I looked in the mirror and saw a person which looked sort of like me, but mostly like some nerd trying to look like a cool kid.

I reluctantly opened up the curtain and Hannah jumped to her feet

“Oh my god…Jas you look so hot!”

“Yeah right…..I feel stupid”

“Whhhhyyyy?......you look cool….it really suits you”

“But I’m not cool…I’m a nerd….I should dress like a nerd”

“You’re not a nerd Jas….you’re my friend, and I don’t hang out with nerds…..hey take off the jacket.” This I did. “Wooooow….seriously man, you look so good dressed like this….you look cuter, and fitter and cooler, and just better…you’re definitely buying this stuff” she started to sort through the pile again and pulled out a dark grey button up shirt with a vertical lined pattern. “Here…leave the jeans on and put this shirt on”.

So I spent the next twenty minutes trying on about six different pairs of pants, mostly jeans and cargo pants, and a wide variety of shirts, t-shirts, jackets and jumpers. After every new outfit Hannah would say things like “Damn that’s cool”, and “I like it”, and “Hhhmmmm”, and “No that ones no good”. Then she would have me change either some or the entire outfit. Or sometimes she would have me put back on an item I had on before, and sometimes a whole outfit she was unsure about from before. Sometimes Hannah would dash off back into the shop and get new things for me to try.

In the end I walked out of the shop carrying four bags jam packed with about four times more clothes than I currently owned, and a very unsure expression on my face, all for less than two hundred dollars. Hannah carried a small bag with her one purchase, an old hand bag, and the biggest smile I had ever seen.

Next we were supposed to go shoe shopping, until Hannah decided that it was unnecessary due to the fact the old hand me down sneakers I had acquired from my brothers years ago were apparently now so old they were back in fashion and in fact “retro trendy” or something. Hannah thought this was a lucky break. I thought it meant that whoever decided what was fashionable had gone insane.

So we were able to move onto session two – the haircut. Now I believe that I have mentioned to you before some of the issues I have with my hair. I hate my hair. But despite the fact that I had never had a good hair day in my life, and that I didn’t really believe that any hairdresser possessed the talent to make my hair look worse than it currently did, getting my hair cut still made me very nervous. ....

For one thing making conversation with a hairdresser is just a painful experience. Usually with me they try to talk for a while and then finding me unable to hold a conversation end up just completely giving in. My relief at no longer having to force out these words which I had so little confidence to say doesn’t last long, silence is still worse. Once you have had a conversation with a person, then being in their company for a significant period of time without saying a thing is just a nightmare. Nothing is worse to a shy person than prolonged uncomfortable silence, mostly because we spend the entire time trying to come up with something, anything to say, and are incapable of it. Then you have this hairdresser standing over you also feeling uncomfortable, and they start to speed up the cutting, which you can see is resulting in the cut being the worst one you have ever had, but you’re too shy to ask for anything to be done about it. You also find yourself just staring at yourself in the mirror in disbelief that the whole episode has degenerated into such a horrible experience, meanwhile you can’t help but catch your hairdressers eyes in the mirror every now and again, which makes you feel even worse, until you start desperately praying that the hairdresser is actually a homicidal maniac and will soon stab you in your throat with the scissors, and put you out of your misery. Fortunately you eventually get off the high chair, pay your money without making eye contact, and walk home swearing you will never ever again get another haircut.

Hannah took me into a very, very up market looking hair salon, which looked like a hair cut would cost about the same as a year of my rent. As we entered, a small little man ran up to Hannah and they started jumping up and down and laughing and squealing “It’s so good to see you” and hugging and kissing each other cheeks. I was then introduced to him, a man named ..Devon...

..Devon.. is the gayest person I have ever met. He was about five foot one, was completely bald, and had one of those beards which are trimmed to outline the jaw line. He had on a white silk shirt with about two buttons done up, and tight, tight little shiny black pants on. And he just had those real stereotypical gay mannerisms and speech, with the limp wrists and lisp.

As soon as he was introduced to me he said “So this is the famous Mr Jason Domey” he then reached up and ruffled at my hair and said “weeeeeelll, we do have some work to do here don’t we? Well come this way young Jason, were going to make you look nice and pretty for all the girls and boys out there”.

They took me out back and then a really hot girl came over and said she would be my hair washer. Having your hair washed in a salon turned out to be quite an alright experience. For one thing it felt quite nice with the warm water and feeling hands glide through my soapy hair, but more importantly it was a hot girl leaning over with a low cut top on, with my head arched so far back it was practically upside down and half the time looking right down her shirt or having her breasts smothering my face. I think suffocation by breasts would be a fine way to die.

With my hair all clean, I was taken over to a one of the chairs in front of a massive mirror and ..Devon.. came back over.

“So Mr Domey, what are we going to do for you today?” He asked

“I don’t know…..just sort of make it look better if you can…I have crappy hair” I replied

“Noooooo…you most certaintly do not…you have a gorgeous head of hair….so full and strong…..I’d kill for hair like this”

“So what do you think I should do to it?”

“Well do you trust me?”

“I guess”

“Well your pretty little friend Hannah there told me I was supposed to make you look really cool…do you want to look cool?

“I guess”

“Then you just sit back and let me work my magic…and I’ll make you the cutest boy on the street”

So he jumped to it, cutting hair off my head in what seemed at first like a blind man trying to skin a dog, he was just hacking in with scissors and hair flying all over the place, all the while he was telling me some story about the first time he met Hannah in the salon, when she had come in and asked for her hair to be turned blue, and he had talked her out of it. It wasn’t that interesting a story, but it saved me from having to talk which was a huge relief. Then he slowed down and started evening it out. Then he took to me with scissors which had comb as one of the blades which he told me would thin out the hair and make it more manageable. It was pretty much just looking like a normal every day private school boy cut at this stage, and I was starting to get worried that when he said he would make me the cutest boy in the street, that he meant to him, and that he liked school boys. This was even more evident when he suddenly said all done. “All done! This is a fucking awful cut” I thought to myself.

I was beginning to panic. With the smock they had me wearing to stop hair getting on my clothes and my hair looking like this I looked like I should run down to the nearest church and sign up for choir duty and become the sexual victim of a priest. Then ..Devon.. ran off and came back with a big stick of some white creamy substance. Turned out it was a stick of hair wax. He heated it up with a hair dryer and started to work it into my hair all over, just rubbing it right in.

Then completely out of the blue, like some magic trick, it just took shape and I looked like I should be singing in a boy band. It was all spiky on top and out the back in a semi Mohawk kind of fashion. I barely recognized myself; I actually thought I looked pretty good!....

Just to prove how stupid a person I can be sometimes, I felt really embarrassed about looking good. I mean I wanted to look good, but I didn’t want to be the centre of attention. Which isn’t easy to avoid when your good friend Hannah suddenly yells out “Oh my god Jason…you look HOT!” from right on the other side of the salon.

So that extremely rewarding experience ended with about twenty people from the salon having a big long stare at me, meaning I was far too embarrassed to be any where near adequately appreciative of Devon and Hannah when they told me the cut was for free for a friend of Hannah’s, and I was totally unprepared for when on departure Devon said to me “pity your not gay Jay or I’d bend you over any day!” Which I barely registered until it was too late and I’d already somehow replied “maybe one day.” This got quite a good laugh from the pair of them and quite a lot of teasing from Hannah after.

Session three for the day was to be at a day spa. This was actually the session I was most nervous about, mostly because Hannah made a point of saying that she wouldn’t elaborate on what we would be doing at this place. I wouldn’t say I was anything of an expert on the whole spa thing, I had never been to one obviously, I had never spoken to anyone about going to one, about the only thing I knew about them was that Derek went to one in the movie ‘Zoolander’ to be brainwashed into assassinating the Malaysian president. I was reasonably confident that Hannah didn’t have that in mind for me.

The day spa was located in what looked like an old warehouse from the outside, and the reception area resembled a cross between a hospital and a cosmetics store, all very clean and sterile looking with various products lined up on the walls and people in white lab coats walking around.

Again Hannah was recognized as we walked in by the girl at reception. She was about the same age as us and very thin, but extremely plain looking. I mean she wasn’t necessarily unattractive, if you tried to describe her to someone, and listed her features, she would sound quite pretty, long blonde hair, blue eyes, thin, tall with a big smile. She had no defining ugly features like a huge nose or no eyeballs. She was just plain, I felt sorry for her right away, but I don’t know why, if anything she seemed overly happy, one of those real happy-go-lucky personalities which can just see the good in anything.

I often have little spells of feeling really sorry for someone who I don’t know and who seem more than content with where they are or what they are doing. Like I’ll sit and watch someone eating their lunch, eating something which I personally don’t find all that appealing, but they have chosen to buy it to eat, out of a wide variety of possible choices, and they’ll be chowing in like a horse from a bucket, and have a smile on their face while their doing it, and I’ll sit there awash with empathy for them. I never really figured out why I do things like that, am I actually a naturally sympathetic person and just want the best for anyone around? Or am I just so incredibly selfish that I project myself into every situation and only worry about how it affects me? Or am I just an extremely psychologically challenged person? Probably a little of all three.

Anyways as Hannah and Beth (we were eventually introduced) caught up on some mutual friend gossip about how one of their male friends was caught making out with one of their gay male friends, even though he had always in the past denied any bi-sexual tendencies, I could tell right away why Beth had been hired to work the reception at this spa. Apart from being extremely outgoing, she also had the sweetest voice I had ever heard. With the cuteness of a six year old girl, but the energy and charisma of a CEO of a major company chairing a meeting on how profits had increased two hundred percent since she took control.

Eventually Beth took us out to the change rooms and handed us both white towels and said she’d see us in a sec.

.. ..

“What do we do now” I asked Hannah, just catching her as she disappeared into the women’s change room

“Go in there, take off all your clothes then come back out……I’ll meet you back here in one minute”

“Ok….so when you say take off all of your clothes, you mean naked apart from still wearing my pants right?”

“No….I mean get in there and get bare ass cock swaying in the wind naked…then get that naked little behind of yours out here”

“I don’t know if I want to do that”

“I don’t care if you want to…you’re going to….you can put the towel on if you want”

“Am I supposed to put the towel on?”

“Most people do….at least when out in the public areas like this”

“Well I would be putting on the towel even if most people walked out masturbating, no chance I am walking around nude!” I thought to myself as I reluctantly retired to the men’s change room.....

I looked around and saw no one else in the room, except a lot of lockers with piles of clothes in front of them. I was reasonably comfortable I was alone as I began to undress, but was still remarkably self conscience about getting naked in an open unfamiliar place. Turns out I had good reason to be worried; as I reached to grab my towel while completely naked, a man suddenly appeared from out of the sauna room, which was directly adjacent to the change areas.

I rushed to wrap the towel around myself, and felt my face flush with blood at the thought the man might have had enough time to sneak a peak at my bits. I don’t know why I thought he would want to have snuck a peak. Maybe the reason I thought that he might have tried for a look had something to do with the fact that I couldn’t help to have my own uncomfortably long stare at his penis.

Not that I find the site of the male sex organ all that appealing. Just that, well, I had never seen one before in the flesh up so close, other than mine of course, I didn’t want to look, it just sort of grabbed my attention. Like if you drive past a car accident and a man has been decapitated by his own windscreen, you don’t derive pleasure from starring at a corpse with its head lying on the ground next to it, and more blood than an abattoir floor. You just look because, I don’t know, it’s captivating. So looking at this guy’s penis probably wasn’t as bad as looking at a headless corpse, but it wasn’t fun. And yet I looked. And didn’t look away as fast as I should of. When looking at a penis of another man, the difference between half a second and one and a half seconds is enormous.

I don’t know if he caught me looking or not, because I didn’t look anywhere near his eyes. I just swiveled on the spot and walked out of the room with my head down starring at the footprint stained tiles. Fortunately this image was quickly replaced in my mind with that of Hannah standing in the hallway wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her waist.

As you know this is a sight I had seen before, but I am still a guy, and a deprived guy at that, I don’t think there will ever be a point when I don’t gain some pleasure from the site of Hannah in a state of undress. I always wondered if she knew how much she drove guys wild with her sexual flaunting, surely she must. Maybe that’s what made it so unbelievably enchanting – the fact that she did it so blatantly and acted so nonchalant about it. If she had of acted in a ‘look at me’ sort of way, then I probably just would have thought ‘you dirty slut’, I mean I still would have looked and enjoyed looking, but wouldn’t have been so captivated.

Hannah led us down a corridor and into another hospital looking room, with two of those massage tables lined up side by side. We both climbed up and put our heads into the holes they cut out for your face, as Hannah explained that we were about to receive a Thai massage and that when it was over I would feel a sensation like nothing I had ever felt before.

We lay like that for about two or three minutes as my dirty mind tried to summon up some images in my head of some cute little Asian girl coming in to massage me. So I was more than surprised when in walked two really pumped up looking men in tight, tight tank tops, showing off more muscle in one bicep than I had on my whole body.

Now despite some of the things I have said so far in my story for you, I am no homophobic and I have no problem with gay people at all. In fact some of the nicest people I have ever met have been gayer than bingo night in a backpackers bar. However I couldn’t say I was really delighted to find out that a guy, one that any girl or gay boy in the world would give a limb to spend some time naked with, was going to be spending the next thirty minutes or so rubbing my naked body.

Times like these are when extreme shyness really cruel you. Its not that I didn’t want to ask if maybe a girl could do the massage, it’s that I was far, far, far too shy to ask for the change of staff. As it turned out Hannah explained later (with plenty of laughing) that several masseurs would have come in and I was able to choose which ever one I liked the most, and later on I happened to meet the girl that would of come in next to introduce herself, had I not decided that the first potential masseur was exactly what I was looking for, and she looked like she had just been vacuumed off the cover of one of the cosmopolitan magazines in the waiting area.

He introduced himself as Magnus, and pretty much went to work on my shoulders straight away. He kept saying over and over as he rubbed me “you’re carrying a lot of tension in your shoulders” or something along those lines. “Yeah I wonder why I would be tense in a time like this.” I sarcastically asked my own brain. Then he kept saying things like “Think of a relaxing time in your life and transport yourself there”.

For some reason I thought of the time soon after I had been bashed and was high on pain killers. Then I remembered my little pact with myself that when I was in positions I didn’t want to be in I should think of what will help that situation right now, and do that even if it wasn’t something I liked the thought of. In this case the best thing I could think of was to just put aside my homophobia (ok I’ll admit it, I have some homophobia, seriously not that much though, I promise) and just enjoy it. It’s a massage – it’s supposed to be enjoyed.

So I took some deep breaths and began to relax myself. I could hear Hannah on the table next to me making the odd mmmmm moaning sound, I wanted to watch her massage being done, but a curtain had been pulled between the benches, so I set my mind into action. I began to think of her naked again, this wasn’t hard, I have Hannah nude burned into my memory bank. Then I put her up on the bench and began to massage her myself. She would moan more and more, and tell me how much she loved the feel of my hands on her body.

Then I would start to spread the massage out to more and more parts of her body, before flipping her around and starting to massage some of the less massaged frontal areas of her. She would be getting all hot and start to thrust out her hips begging for more, more, more. Until I could resist no longer and shed my clothes and fuck her like she had never been fucked before - right there on the massage bench. This fantasy along with the feeling of the expert massage I was receiving, even if it was by a guy, was quite a pleasurable feeling. ....

Suddenly I was startled by Magnus telling me he was finished. At first I was disappointed that it was over, I was enjoying it, and I didn’t want it to end. Then I had a much different reason to not want it to be over. ....

Hannah had predicted before we began that by the end I would feel a sensation in my body which I had never felt before. Well I did. What I felt, after just receiving a massage from what would be considered a very ‘hunky’ guy, was that I had a rock hard erection. I mean as hard as I ever get in my life. It was pointing out from me like a eight year old boy points out ice cream shops to his mum, like a sailor having been at sea for six months points out land to his captain, like a soldier points out a line of tanks heading in his companies direction. If I stood up this thing would have pointed itself out to anyone who came anywhere near me.

Now if you’re not already aware of this, you may be interested to know several bits of information. When you’re a heterosexual guy who’s just received a Thai massage from a man, you don’t want to have an erection at the end. When you’re too shy to say hello back to half the people who say hello to you, you don’t want to have to explain to people “Yeah it’s an erection, I just got a massage from this hot guy in there, but seriously that’s not why I have an erection, I promise”. When you’re completely naked apart from a towel, you have absolutely no chance of hiding an erection. It’s like standing in a packed camping ground and hoping not to spot a tent. Tents stand out, whether pegged to the ground or trying to escape your nether regions. ....

One more thing, when you really don’t want an erection, thinking about it doesn’t help it go away. If you have a raging hard on the only sure way to guarantee it stays as hard as a chunk of teak wood, is to think to yourself “please go away erection, please go away erection, please go away erection” it just makes it get harder. But then of course when you’re thinking along these lines there really is only one thing you can think of “please go away erection, please go away erection”. It’s a vicious cycle.

I had to think fast. What could I hold up in front of it? Nothing, nothing at all in the whole bloody room! Maybe I could just scrunch up my towel in front of it? Nope that wouldn’t work, walking out of this room wearing nothing but a towel which I have crunched up in front of crotch with my ass out for all to see was about the only thing which could possibly make me look gayer than a big prominent erection.

I had to stall. “Mind numbingly boring small talk; that will do it” I thought to myself.

“So Magnus….any big plans for the weekend?” I asked

“Oh yeah mate….I’m having a party at my house on the weekend…there is going to be some hot girls there!” He replied

“Don’t go into more details!” I thought to myself

“There is this one girl coming…all the way from Sweden…out on holidays from college…well last time she was out here…..and I swear this is the gods honest truth….she ended up having a full on threesome with two other girls in the spa….in front of everyone…and I don’t mean just kissing…..I mean titty grabbing, pussy munching, full out sex…..it was so awesome”

“This isn’t helping!” I thought to myself “Please go away erection, please go away erection”

“The other two aren’t going to be there this time….but I’m telling you this girl was hot man….she is not going to have any trouble filling up the spa this time…mark my words” Magnus continued to ramble on with his attempt to write a story worthy of playboy, completely out of character from his masseur persona, and in way, way too much graphic detail.

Then Hannah yelled something out from outside the room, and it was both completely to my rescue and completely horrible.

“She had the nicest set of tits I have ever seen…..real ones too…I mean you don’t see that many girls with like really big hooters and still thin and fit bodies when there not fake…..you can tell by the way they move….fake ones just sort of stay in the same position all the time…..not that I don’t still like them….I mean tits are tits, and tits are good….you’re a guy….you know what I’m talking about man!” Magnus continued with this totally inappropriate and totally unhelpful story, despite my reluctance to join in. I mean in normal circumstances I would have loved to hear a story like this. But not just after I had received a massage from this guy, and was naked, and had an erection which could star in a Viagra commercial.

“Yeah” I replied “Shut the fuck up” I thought “Please go away erection, please go away erection, please go away erection”

“YOU COMING OUT JAS” Hannah yelled from the hallway “IT’S TIME FOR YOUR BACK WAX”

“IT’S TIME FOR MY FUCKING WHAT?” I yelled in reply

“Geeze that Hannah friend of yours has a great set of her own….do you think she would come to my party if I asked her?” Magnus whispered to me

“YOUR FUCKING BACK WAX!” Hannah yelled back

I jumped down off the bench, and walked into the hall, “do you really think I need a back wax?” I asked Hannah as I exited the room.

“Oh my fucking god! I forgot about the fucking erection!” I screamed at my brain as I slammed my chin on my chest having an emergency check of the bulge in the front of my towel

“What are you looking at? Just making sure your bits are still there? Don’t worry mate….getting a massage wont make your penis fall off….I would never do that to you….how else will I ever get a chance to ride on top of it?” Hannah said while struggling not to burst into hysterical laughter.

“Yeah right” I said with just a tint of relief in my voice having discovered on inspection that my erection had actually instantly dissipated from Hannah’s mention of the waxing

“Its not that you need a back wax….you only have a bit of a scattering of hair back there don’t you….but it will get rid of that…at least for a few weeks….and I have a good feeling that you’ll soon be having some girls grabbing hold of your back as they scream out from the orgasm you have just given them…and trust me, grabbing a hairy back does not help you have the best orgasm of your life”

“I really don’t think I am going to have that problem”

“Only because you talk yourself out of it….but trust me by the time I am done with you, you’ll be having all the sex you can handle….so is that a good enough incentive to go through a little pain?”

“How much pain?”

“Well I promise you it will be less than I am about to have”

“What are you about to have?”

“A Brazilian wax”

“What’s a Brazilian wax?”

“It’s when they wax off any hair in your entire pubic and anal region”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Yeah see” She said before turning around and bending over lifting her towel and spreading her ass cheeks. “See how my hair has grown in around here? I don’t want that”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Is it that bad? Ok let’s get to this” she replied, having misinterpreted what had alarmed me about a girl bending over and spreading her arse cheeks

“Yes let’s go a waxing” I didn’t really feel like going a waxing, but I also didn’t want to stand there and get another erection under this towel from anymore looking or thinking about Hannah’s naked body. Although I still cant believe my luck that Hannah decided to bend over and show me her entire sexual region like that, and just my bloody luck I was in just about the only situation where I couldn’t enjoy it in the slightest.

The waxing didn’t end up being that bad. The wax was really hot and felt weird and gooey, sort like honey on my back. Then the women would take these sheets of sticky paper and rip the hair out by the roots. It sounds bad, but I really don’t have that much hair back there. So it was over pretty quickly. The only part that really hurt was my neck, and I felt a little sore and irritated after, but other than that I have caused myself more pain from injuries incurred while masturbating.

I think girls really must just being whinging about all that waxing they do just to get us boys sympathy. Sure I wouldn’t want to do it every week, but it’s not like hell on earth the way it’s made out by some people. I’ll tell you what, how about us guys make a pact with all you girls and we’ll agree that we’ll wax all our unnecessary hair off every week instead of you, and then you have to take responsibility for making all the first moves in meeting, getting to know, and getting us into bed. Do you think that would work better?

Actually something just occurred to me. Lots of you girls must be doing what Hannah did, and getting that whole region down there waxed off, and let me tell you I for one really appreciate it, I mean I don’t get to see that area that often, but it’s a great look when I do get to see it that way. But there is no chance, no way in hell, no way in twenty seven thousand years, that me, and I think I speak for most guys, will ever let someone rip the hair around my arsehole out from the roots. And I don’t want that hot, hot wax anywhere near my penis. Are you girl’s nuts or what?

Next thing on the agenda was something called a full body scrub and wrap. They took us into another room with two benches on them. Hannah jumped up and threw her towel in the corner. I jumped on my bench and volunteered to leave my towel wrapped around me. Hannah rolled her eyes.

Then in came two small Chinese women, who never said a word, and preceded to poor some warm mud type substance all over us. They then rubbed it all in, over our entire bodies, well not my entire body, I made them work around my towel – more eye rolling.

As they rubbed it in it felt almost sand papery, and not all that nice. Hannah explained to me that this was “exfoliating” our skin, which apparently is good. Then they took some giant sheets of aluminum foil and wrapped us up like Egyptian mummies. Which was quite a weird feeling, it was really warm and gooey inside and was good for about five minutes until claustrophobia started to take over, and I spent the next ten minutes desperately wanting to get out until they came and unwrapped us, and I felt like I had been cooked.

Our spa program had now come to an end, and we were sent to our respective change rooms to shower and get dressed. I slid into the shower and washed mud out of places like my butt crack and gaps between my toes. I got dressed in the shadow of two more naked men, this time older men, whom I had no problems what so ever avoiding staring at the penis’s of, well not for too long. I met up with Hannah in the hallway, and we left. On the way out Hannah asked me how I was feeling, and I thought about it for a minute or so, and then had to confess that I did feel good. It had been a far from normal day so far, and the past couple of hours in the spa were not spent entirely in ways which I would call ‘fun’, but all in all my skin felt good, my back felt good, and I felt sort of refreshed, like you do three quarters of the way into a holiday. Where the hassle of packing and getting to where ever it is you’re at is a forgotten memory, and the stress of repacking and going back to normality and bordomilty are still just far enough away to not occupy your mind too much, you’re just relaxed and enjoying it. I think people spend thousands of dollars and give up two weeks of their lives over and over again, just to feel like that for those two or three days, three quarters of the way in. So I would have to say if I made a list of the good and bad that my spa experience had provided me with, good would probably win. That’s not to say that I would be in any sort of rush to go back there.

So onto the last session of the day – furniture shopping. This is how I met Ellie.

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