One of my beloved clients gifted me a two hour (!) massage with Alice Carrol. She and I have met and played before but this was my first time receiving unidirectional bodywork from her.
Her incall is reasonably convenient though I didn’t drive so I can’t tell you about parking. Straight up the Hill from me, I got my blood moving by walking the whole way. She let me in to her vintage building and a few flights of stairs later we entered a small, dim studio. She offered water and tiny donuts and we sat and chatted for a few minutes about what I wanted. Her studio is in an old building so it’s a little rough around the edges but she keeps it spotless and manages to work around the limitations of size and age.
Alice is extraordinarily accommodating. I said I was looking for a bit of deeper work in my shoulders and also that I wanted to experience her ‘standard sensual massage.’ She told me that, like myself, she constantly adjusts her bodywork to fit the vibe and needs of the client. We agreed I would take a warm shower to relax and we would regroup after.
I emerged warm and cozy from her small bathroom to find soft music and a sarong-wrapped Alice awaiting me. I lay face down on the table and settled in to relax.
Alice is deaf, meaning if she can’t see your lips, she can’t read them. As many of you know, I have a hard time not talking but in this case I had no option. The soft, familiar music, extremely dim lighting, and loooong sensuous strokes took me somewhere I don’t think I’ve ever been before. Her style for bodywork is deep, strong, and flowing. She constantly reapplies warm oil as it soaks in and she intersperses body-wide strokes with deep kneading by strong hands. Like, really strong.
After an eternity of indeterminate length, the depth of her strokes changed. Slowly, subtly, her hands slipped from heel to calf to buttock to shoulder, around, and back again. Again and again, almost hypnotic, her touch and silence directed my attention inward. It had been a long busy few weeks and I wasn’t sure my body would respond with arousal to her sensuous attention but I felt myself growing warmer with every pass of her hands.
She invited me to turn over onto my back so she could minister to my sore pecs and breasts, arms and forearms, and my rumbling tummy. She teased me about the mischievous brownie in her wanting to play with my nipples and with a look I invited her in.
Working on women sensually isn’t as simple as working on men. Our arousal is neither simple nor obvious and the rarity of female clients means, at least with me, I’m more timid and nervous. She slowly, slowly circled her hands towards my center after deeply kneading sore spots in shoulder and chest.
We paused for a moment to assess my body’s response. She definitely had me thinking about receiving her hands intimately and it was part sexual arousal, part curiosity that led us to deeper pleasures. Suffice it to say her touch is intuitive and she watches carefully for your reactions. It was tricky to give feedback in the dim light but she always made me feel welcome to speak up and ask for what I wanted. While I didn’t reach a climax, I reached instead a state of complete mindlessness.
After a shower and getting dressed again I expected to sit and talk shop for a bit but I found myself staring absently, vaguely searching for conversation and finding very little cranial movement. That’s unusual enough for me that once I noticed it, I just enjoyed it. There is a women’s only, clothing optional spa a few blocks down the hill from her apartment and in place of forcing myself back to reality, I walked emptily down to strip and sauna.
My full cognitive abilities didn’t return for an hour. A long, dim, quiet hour surrounded by naked goddesses sighing and gasping and whispering.
Alice gave me an opportunity to relax, receive, share, and enjoy without any pressure to perform or return. Her hands worked me over and her silence centered me. I have no doubts that, given the opportunity, she will do the same for you.