I Love a Good Massage
Finally cashed in the Christmas present from my future in-laws . . . a couples massage at a funky little spa in the river-front area of Fort Myers that is being inhabited with businesses that are taking over homes and properties. So inviting . . . painted lime-green and pink . . . Verbena and Pentas bursting in bloom and color standing guard around the entrance. Quiet Saturday late morning.
Met Jen at the quaint sitting room where she enthusiastically greeted me with cool water, a slice of orange and a friendly touch of my shoulder. Allie for my fiance. Both ladies mid-30s. beaming and glowing. It was apparent that they knew they would transform us.
So they did.
If you've never had a massage, go. Now. Immediately. Imagine a room with two beds (well, they're massage tables), dimly lit, innocuous and soothing new-age music lightly playing, the smell of lavender permeating. Fiance and I kicked off sandals, shorts, undies and tee shirts and got snug under a sheet and light blanket.
It's difficult to describe a massage other than what one already knows. My flesh from toes to scalp and every muscle, sinew and fiber were kneaded, pulled, stretched, rubbed and smoothed over with oils and aromatics. "Is that a good sigh?" Jen asked with a slight giggle as soft sounds must have escaped my lips from deep within. "Not a full-blown ******," I parried with a whisper. "Touche!" Fiance was making similar yummy "Mmmmm" sounds next to me.
It was that delicious. Who knew there were that many places that needed attention and manipulation? I've got parts of my butt, thighs, arms and neck that have never been plundered and pampered before. She even found and loosened up an old shoulder injury . . . smashed up body surfing when I was 11. I can now after 15 years touch the spot between my shoulders far more easily.
Ninety minutes? Sheeet! It seemed like, maybe 30.
Gushing thanks after another glass of orange-infused ice water ("Gotta flush away those toxins" we were told) and then left to dress we considered naughty possibilities as our naked bodies basked in the massage after-glow. "That was really amazing," I said to Jen, squeezing both of her hands. "I know," said said. "We'll see you again soon."
Post-script: Down the block another funky newly inhabited place serving formal English tea in a beautiful setting, complete with china and splendid silverware. We waltzed in for brunch . . . riding the massage cloud and high . . . and realized flipflops and white tee shirts might not be enough. But it was. The only remaining table by a picture window. Quiche and salad with coffee. Next time tea.
Oh, splendid day!
Met Jen at the quaint sitting room where she enthusiastically greeted me with cool water, a slice of orange and a friendly touch of my shoulder. Allie for my fiance. Both ladies mid-30s. beaming and glowing. It was apparent that they knew they would transform us.
So they did.
If you've never had a massage, go. Now. Immediately. Imagine a room with two beds (well, they're massage tables), dimly lit, innocuous and soothing new-age music lightly playing, the smell of lavender permeating. Fiance and I kicked off sandals, shorts, undies and tee shirts and got snug under a sheet and light blanket.
It's difficult to describe a massage other than what one already knows. My flesh from toes to scalp and every muscle, sinew and fiber were kneaded, pulled, stretched, rubbed and smoothed over with oils and aromatics. "Is that a good sigh?" Jen asked with a slight giggle as soft sounds must have escaped my lips from deep within. "Not a full-blown ******," I parried with a whisper. "Touche!" Fiance was making similar yummy "Mmmmm" sounds next to me.
It was that delicious. Who knew there were that many places that needed attention and manipulation? I've got parts of my butt, thighs, arms and neck that have never been plundered and pampered before. She even found and loosened up an old shoulder injury . . . smashed up body surfing when I was 11. I can now after 15 years touch the spot between my shoulders far more easily.
Ninety minutes? Sheeet! It seemed like, maybe 30.
Gushing thanks after another glass of orange-infused ice water ("Gotta flush away those toxins" we were told) and then left to dress we considered naughty possibilities as our naked bodies basked in the massage after-glow. "That was really amazing," I said to Jen, squeezing both of her hands. "I know," said said. "We'll see you again soon."
Post-sc
Oh, splendid day!
By:
Kathryn1985
Age:
26-30
,
Female
