Girl on the Net

I’m a huge fan of first times, almost as big a fan as I am of the awesome Missy of Focused and Filthy, who has one hell of a first to share today: recently she experienced her very first sensual tantric massage. And I have to admit I am wildly curious about this kind of thing as well. Giving your body over to someone else to massage and pleasure slowly and intensely… yeah. Sounds hot. But even though I knew it would be hot, I was not prepared for how stunning it sounds when Missy explains it in detail…

My first sensual tantric massage

I lay there panting. Wondering if I should try and open my eyes. There was still music playing but I’d long forgotten about it. I was warm but cooling down and I was just starting to get a little shivery. His body wrapped and entwined around me. I started the slow process of coming round. Like a small feather that had been blown high up in the sky on a warm day and was now drifting carelessly and slowly down. As it reached the ground I opened my eyes and realised I was smiling. There seemed to be a fixed grin stuck to my face and he was watching me.

I met a man online dating and booked a tantric massage with him for our second date.

Even writing that line down makes me wonder about what judgment I might get, but then again the smile still on my face means my gut was right. I’d recently joined an online site particularly used by ethically-non monogamous people. One local fella caught my eye partly because he mentioned massages and my sore back and shoulders thought that might be useful.

Our first date was nice. A wet countryside walk, followed by a quiet pub lunch and then a thirty minute snog session in the back of my car before agreeing we should meet again.

We had chatted about his work and it turned out he was a professional massage therapist. I’ve had plenty of massages, and working sitting down all day means I have to be careful with my back. My osteopath and pilates instructor both recommend regular massages to me. As we explored this in conversation he asked if I’ve ever had a sensual tantric massage – something he had experienced and learned about and had enjoyed with others previously. I was intrigued. I love being massaged and although some of my sex has involved lots of touching and some mild vulva massage I liked the idea of just lying back and letting someone pleasure me, with no worry about what I should be doing in return. It seemed greedy, wanton and lustful. It was an offer I didn’t want to refuse.

Preparing for my tantric massage

After some diary planning we finally booked a day we were both free but I had about three weeks to wait. I’d spoken to someone else who I’d met independently of the massage therapist, who had enjoyed a few of his sensual tantric massages and they had reassured me it was worth it. I’d done my due diligence on who he was, his partner, his work, his clients, and I felt comfortable enough that he was exactly who he said he was. I painted my toenails, had a bikini wax, trimmed my bush and shaved my legs.

He sent me a list of unusual touch to go through. He had his usual list for routine body massages but this was the added extras. He asked me to read it all and comment but that he would go through it all with me on the day. The list included different types of touch like scratching, tickling and kissing etc. Areas to touch were also listed including breasts, nipples, outer labia, inner labia, clitoris, anus etc. All things could be a No, a Maybe, a Yes or a Hell Yes! A ‘No’ would be respected at all times and even if requested later would not be done. ‘Maybes’ would be asked about and anything could be changed to a ‘No’ at any time I wanted.

There was also a request for favoured terms for the genital areas or words that should not be used. He used the term ‘yoni’ on the forms but I said I was completely happy with ‘cunt’ as my preferred term but would recommend avoiding ‘pussy’ as I find it a little icky.

What is a sensual tantric massage like?

I arrived and found his place warm and comfortable. I hadn’t realised he’d turned the heating up just for me to get naked. A few pleasantries and a cup of tea done, we got down to business. He told me to close my eyes and went through his full checklist. I had to answer honestly and verbally and although it seemed strange I understood why he did it that way. Nothing to distract from how I really felt. Easier to say no as well as yes to what he was asking.

The only question that threw me was what I wanted him to wear. He’d told me it was completely about me and there was nothing he expected in return so the fact he offered to work on me naked, in underwear, topless or fully clothed made me wonder. But in my wank fantasies (and believe me I’d wanked a lot thinking about this day) he was always fully clothed so I asked for that.

He then sat and held my hands and asked for eye contact before we started. We stared at each other and I tried hard not to giggle. I found myself following his breathing and my heart raced but I also managed to keep it in my chest. It became easier as the seconds passed by and an excited smile fixed itself to my face.

By this point it didn’t seem weird to stand up, take all my clothes off and climb onto the massage bed. He then covered me up with warm towels.

We’d planned that the first half an hour would be routine back and shoulder massage and I relaxed into the bed doing the usual painful groans as he worked out the knots over my shoulder blades. After the thirty minutes I was calm and comfortable. His hands were doing exactly as promised and I felt relaxed enough as he moved onto my legs. I knew the real enjoyment was to come but the warmth, his delicious hands and the slightly floaty music kept me from worrying at this stage and I just drifted into the sensation.

He worked up to the top of my thighs and at the point I would normally start getting concerned, he just kept gently working his hands. It was such a gradual transition to him stroking and working his fingers from my thighs to in between my legs and onto my labia that I didn’t flinch. In fact I gently opened my legs just a bit more, feeling the familiar warmth spread through me as my cunt responded to his attention. Maybe I raised my hips a fraction, I’m not sure, but I then felt him pressing up against my clit. I think it was with the knuckles of a fist in a gentle rotating motion from behind that sent my first orgasm roll over me. I caught my breath trying to remember just to relax and let him do the work but it’s hard when my brain is often wired to the “what should I be doing for them?” thought. I think I came about three times lying on my front (this is an estimate because I definitely lost track later) before he asked me to roll onto my back. I’d had my eyes closed before but now I definitely kept them shut, not to blank out what was happening but to help myself remember to just forget about everything else and just feel.

And I did feel.

I felt his hands on my arms working down towards my own hands and his mouth sucking on my fingers one at a time. It made me giggle and felt funny but not enough to pull away or say anything but smile. He moved up to my breasts and spent a delicious amount of time caressing and stroking and occasionally kissing them. My whole body was now awake and humming, my cunt was satisfyingly wet and as I felt him working towards it I know my mouth was open – perhaps it was a reflex. His fingers teased and then rubbed and opened my lips up, pressing into me, and another orgasm waved over me. There were times I had no idea what he was doing with his hands but it felt so good. Fingers inside me and on me, pressing my clit. I assume he is right handed as that was the hand on my cunt but his left hand never really left me either. Either on my breasts, or helping out the right and I came again with my juices running over his fingers. He gently pressed his left hand down on the centre of my chest. I felt grounded by it. Maybe he was feeling my heart rate go up and down. Maybe it was keeping my aligned and centred on the massage bed as the orgasm waves ripped out and over me causing me to buck and wriggle under him.

It becomes a bit foggy at this stage, I wasn’t counting my orgasms but I think it was somewhere between 20 and 50. I don’t think I said much but I’m aware I sometimes swear when I orgasm, I’m definitely more of a panter than a screamer but I didn’t talk or converse at all. I just let him do what he wanted and it all felt amazing. I felt his breath on me and sometimes he blew gentle, cool air over my nipples and clit.

He lightly kissed my lips once or twice and I felt his hands in my hair again balancing the one that seemed almost constantly on or in my cunt. Sometimes he didn’t move it, sometimes it was just pressure on my pubis, sometimes it was several fingers inside and a thumb circling my clit. I knew I had made a puddle. No one makes me cum that many times without me squirting or at least having my hot juices run down their hands onto the soft towels.

There was so much softness about the situation, yet thinking about it now he must have had so much control. He played me like a fine instrument. Making the music of my orgasms, building up with crescendos and periods of speed and intensity, alongside long soft pauses. I vibrated under him, my body shuddering and shaking as I came again and again.

I remember grabbing his trouser leg at one point. My hand balled into the fabric trying to cling on as I crashed in and out of the orgasms. I felt his cock, stiff and held in his trousers, brush over my hand at the edge of the bed a few times. A lovely reminder that he was enjoying this but he didn’t need anything from me.

At one point I think I grabbed his hand that was playing with my cunt. I was spent. I didn’t think I could cum any more. My clit throbbed. My dripping cunt pulsated. My core muscles ached from all the internal clenching they had done and my breath was shallow and fast. I’m not sure if that’s how it ended, but I became aware we had finished with him kneeling behind me. His head resting near mine and his arms holding my shoulders and tops of my arms. He asked if he could give me a full hug and when I nodded agreement he moved and climbed on next to me and just held me in his arms.

I felt high like I was stoned, but this was like a fresh clear high. An orgasm induced high I’d not really felt before. I became aware of my surroundings and gradually opened my eyes. He had worked on me for two whole hours. The time had slipped by and I was completely unaware of it. I was just glowing from head to toe.

I grinned all the way home and probably for the next few days. I clung to my husband that night. Whispering about what had happened, as he fucked my tender but still needy cunt. The next day I’m not sure what ached more, my now-loosened shoulder blades or my pelvic floor muscles. The high lasted for a good few days.

I’m not a religious person at all but it felt very spiritual. Something I struggled to explain to friends and other lovers over the next few weeks. It definitely had some positive healing effects on me, and if tantric massages could be prescribed to everyone I think it would do the world of good.

If you enjoyed this fabulous tantric massage post, you should definitely check out Missy’s other guest blogs which include the amazing (and deeply hot) concept of ‘husband sitting’, plus a piece that would leave me green with envy if I weren’t too busy wanking – the hat trick (cum in each hole). And check out her blog, which has tonnes of gorgeously sexy photography, at FocusedAndFilthy.com