美食探索家 - 胡蘭
N Visits to The Prime Massage（Proofread Version）
2025-05-16 13:57:05
This place is a long-established shop in the Patpong area for more than twenty years. The proprietress speaks Mandarin very well, polite, always smiling, with an elegant and refined manner. The reception has three to four managers, and many young girls who guide customers to change shoes and wash their feet. Even when it's busy, everything runs in an orderly way.
Sometimes you're assigned to other apartment buildings nearby; the buildings around here are generally low-rise, and to reach the treatment room you often have to climb some unfriendly stairs, which can be quite exhausting. Fortunately the lighting in the rooms is calming, and the robes, pants and towels provided are all clean and tidy.
The masseur who took me upstairs, like most of them, wore an all-black uniform, had dark skin and wore a black mask — a very workmanlike appearance. Even though I've been here many times, it's hard for me to tell whether I see the same masseurs again; I can barely distinguish the boys from one another. That made me think this shop doesn't emphasize personal image — in terms of technique, service flow, or appearance. To some extent that also reduces the chance of erotic massages — which makes it easier to accept a massage with peace of mind, and is one reason I keep coming back.
For this visit I chose one hour of Thai massage plus one hour of aromatherapy oil massage. When the desk staff asked me to choose an essential oil, I said I had brought my usual oil. The receptionist actually asked to check it and tried some on his own wrist. I didn't quite understand why he had to inspect it like that, but he seemed satisfied with what I brought.
The "workmanlike" boy took me to a room on the third floor. His Thai-style acupressure was deep but a bit off in accuracy; his oil work was standard basic technique. Several times he inadvertently brushed my genitals with the edge of his palm or his elbow. I want to remind readers that these are suggestive moves — a properly trained therapist should be very careful to avoid such improper contact, so those supposedly "accidental" touches are somewhat problematic.
Sure enough, during the oil massage the therapist directly asked me, "OK?"
That "OK" carried more than a simple meaning.
This time I replied "OK" directly.
He then, using a retreat-to-advance motion with his left hand, slowly traced circles with his five interlaced fingers, approaching to about a hand's breadth below my navel; his right hand was toying with my testicles. He played with them for a while — Taipei 101 had probably climbed to about the 80th floor...
When he saw the green light to proceed, the boy left the groin area and moved up to my chest, vigorously flicking and pinching my nipples without any tenderness — it felt tingly, itchy, painful, and pleasurable all at once...
Then the boy used both hands to rub up and down; when the "building" was almost at the 90th floor, he seemed impatient to reach the summit; I didn't know how to finish, and the time was up...
After going downstairs I gave a 300 tip and that completed the massage.
Sometimes you're assigned to other apartment buildings nearby; the buildings around here are generally low-rise, and to reach the treatment room you often have to climb some unfriendly stairs, which can be quite exhausting. Fortunately the lighting in the rooms is calming, and the robes, pants and towels provided are all clean and tidy.
The masseur who took me upstairs, like most of them, wore an all-black uniform, had dark skin and wore a black mask — a very workmanlike appearance. Even though I've been here many times, it's hard for me to tell whether I see the same masseurs again; I can barely distinguish the boys from one another. That made me think this shop doesn't emphasize personal image — in terms of technique, service flow, or appearance. To some extent that also reduces the chance of erotic massages — which makes it easier to accept a massage with peace of mind, and is one reason I keep coming back.
For this visit I chose one hour of Thai massage plus one hour of aromatherapy oil massage. When the desk staff asked me to choose an essential oil, I said I had brought my usual oil. The receptionist actually asked to check it and tried some on his own wrist. I didn't quite understand why he had to inspect it like that, but he seemed satisfied with what I brought.
The "workmanlike" boy took me to a room on the third floor. His Thai-style acupressure was deep but a bit off in accuracy; his oil work was standard basic technique. Several times he inadvertently brushed my genitals with the edge of his palm or his elbow. I want to remind readers that these are suggestive moves — a properly trained therapist should be very careful to avoid such improper contact, so those supposedly "accidental" touches are somewhat problematic.
Sure enough, during the oil massage the therapist directly asked me, "OK?"
That "OK" carried more than a simple meaning.
This time I replied "OK" directly.
He then, using a retreat-to-advance motion with his left hand, slowly traced circles with his five interlaced fingers, approaching to about a hand's breadth below my navel; his right hand was toying with my testicles. He played with them for a while — Taipei 101 had probably climbed to about the 80th floor...
When he saw the green light to proceed, the boy left the groin area and moved up to my chest, vigorously flicking and pinching my nipples without any tenderness — it felt tingly, itchy, painful, and pleasurable all at once...
Then the boy used both hands to rub up and down; when the "building" was almost at the 90th floor, he seemed impatient to reach the summit; I didn't know how to finish, and the time was up...
After going downstairs I gave a 300 tip and that completed the massage.
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