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Erotic Massage Parlours Abbey Field

It was a cool, drizzly night as I browsed through the cobblestone streets of the ancient Eastern European city. I was shivering, both from the extreme weather and the anticipation of what waited for. My consultant had actually suggested an unique massage parlour nestled amidst the historic centre; an establishment renowned for its art, as much as its extravagance.

I had been taking a trip for weeks, checking out the vast area of the strange continent. My body ached from the consistent movement and the cold that had begun to embed in; I needed revitalization.

The parlour, called 'The Recovery Place,' was a standard stone structure embellished with ivy. A mild, warm glow originated from within, inviting, practically whispering to me, "Come inside." As I pressed open the heavy oak door, a gust of warm, scented air engulfed me. The mellow noise of sitar music combined with the soft citrusy-woodsy scent offered the place an uncommon, trance-like aura.

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The receptionist, a petite lady with dove-like eyes, invited me with a warm smile, ushering me towards a small, poorly lit space where I was to wait on my masseur.

As I waited, I deciphered the heavy layers of clothes, letting the warmth of the room seep into my skin. I closed my eyes trying to appreciate the moment. In the middle of the calming oriental music, I could make out the soft trickling sound of water from a neighboring water fountain. It offered a freshness, a sense of relief.

After what appeared like an ethereal pause, the door creaked open. A high, lean figure stepped in, presenting himself as Dimitri, my masseur. He had a calm, calming voice that contributed to the serene ambiance.

As I set on the table, a sheet barely hiding my modesty, Dimitri began with his magic. His hands were warm and firm, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The dim, warm candlelight cast shadows on the rustic stone walls, making it a surreal world, far from the ordinary.

He began my massage slowly, working his way through my wearied shoulders to my aching back. His hands worked in rhythm, putting in pressure, releasing, moving - it felt like a synchronized dance of his fingers on my back. I sighed audibly, and Dimitri whispered, "Relax.".

An hour passed, possibly 2, I could barely inform. The room was so warm, the music so lulling, his touch so calming, and the very air tasted like harmony. It healed, relaxed, and liberated me more than I 'd ever believed possible.

Bell-like chimes stirred me awake. Dimitri gently informed me that my session was over. He left the room, allowing me a few personal minutes to enjoy the consequences of an extraordinary experience.

As I ignored 'The Recovery Place,' I brought with me a sense of fulfillment, a newly found respect for the art of massage. It was magic; it was an intimate dance, a poetry of touch that can transform a tired tourist into an invigorated soul.

This is my memory of an expressive evening that led me to taste a slice of sensuous tranquility. I invite you to open your mind to check out the sensuous realm of massage parlours and enable yourself the extravagance of a life time. After all, we're travelers in this large area of life, aren't we all looking for some healing?

Thai Nuru Massage Abbey Field

 

The Tranquility of Serendipity - A Thai Massage Tale.

Long years of laboring behind a desk had actually left an irreversible crescent-shaped curve on my spine. A little into my thirties, stiff neck, and back pains were becoming a better buddy than any pet could ever be. On the suggestion of a well-meaning friend, and conquering my doubt, I found myself in front of the modest wood façade of the distinguished "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the busy heart of the city.

As I stepped in through the ornately sculpted entryway, I was covered in a calm wave of lemongrass-scented air. It cushioned the city's brusque attitude, making way for the serenity that Thai establishments are known for. I was welcomed by Sayuri, her silver-kissed hair nicely bound, a radiant smile used her lips and her eyes twinkled with the understanding only experience brings.

Directed into a poorly lit space ornamented with faintly flickering candle lights and the calming murmur of a bamboo waterfall, I was paralleled into another world. The air was ripe with the earthy scent of vital oils, and soft crucial music feathered through the silence, lulling my senses to peace.

Decked in a loose pair of thick cotton trousers and a t-shirt, as is popular for a Thai massage, I lay down on the mat, looking at the elaborate Asian art work on the ceiling. A ripple of anxiety gnawed at me, but Sayuri's ultimate Thai amiability alleviated my chaos.

As the massage started, I could feel skilled hands working their magic. Fingers pushing and kneading into tight muscles, periodically satisfying a knot where all the tension coagulated. My breath hitched as those tender knots were kneaded up until they dissipated into nothingness.

She was a storyteller-- each pull, twist, and turn seemed like a page torn from a tale, launching its tricks. I was captured off guard when she began utilizing her feet and elbows too, extending my body with the precision so characteristic of Thai massages. The pushing of her feet against my back cracked open the covert vaults of repressed tension, and each fracture came up with a wave of relief.

The warmth of the oils seeping into my skin, the rhythmic pressure alternating in between intense and relaxing, together with the asian music that played in the background-- everything co-existed in managed harmony. Each movement of Sayuri's hands shook loose a bunch of suppressed memories, emotions, and crises, making my physique feel lighter and my soul feel unburdened.

And then, the grand ending. Sayuri transferred to abrade my scalp with vigor and vitality. It was as if every remaining concern, every sticking around idea, was unknotted from my head, drifting into the ether to oblivion.

As those hauntingly mundane ninety minutes engraved to an end, I was a new guy, cleansed of the stress dogging my life, one knead at a time. The stiffness in my neck that was an undesirable occupant for years, made a peaceful exit, leaving in its wake, newfound flexibility and relief.

The sound of sand dripping in an hourglass snapped me back to truth. I increased from the mat, my body humming its appreciation, my mind cleared of its fog. Gratitude welling up in my heart, I thanked Sayuri, her eyes showing understanding and fulfillment.

Unexpected as it was-- my foray into that Thai massage parlor left me a changed individual -an intro to an alternative dimension of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism could match. It became my escape, my journey toward self-discovery, and a testament to the healing power of touch. An unforgettable experience!

Keep in mind - All of us look for solace, and in some cases it can be found in the unlikeliest of places, like the Bangkok Sanctuary - a simple, yet captivating Thai massage parlor in the heart of an energetic city.

My consultant had actually recommended a distinct massage parlour nestled in the middle of the historic centre; a facility renowned for its art, as much as its indulgence.

I welcome you to open your mind to explore the sensuous realm of massage parlours and enable yourself the extravagance of a life time. On the recommendation of a well-meaning good friend, and conquering my hesitation, I discovered myself in front of the modest wood façade of the distinguished "Bangkok Sanctuary", a Thai massage parlor tucked away in the busy heart of the city.

I was caught off guard when she started using her elbows and feet too, stretching my body with the accuracy so particular of Thai massages. Unexpected as it was-- my venture into that Thai massage parlor left me a changed person -an intro to an alternative dimension of relaxation that neither wealth nor materialism could match.





 



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