I must have been stroked considerably as a child. In fact I know I was. I have memories of my mother lying between my sister and me at bedtime. We were siblings whose birthdays were just barely a year apart. So our bedtimes were the same. We’d put on our flanellette pyjamas, jump into the double bed and nestle down between the sheets. Mom lay on top of the blankets between us and she sang, hymns usually, but sometimes nursery songs. She must have been exhausted by the time we became drowsy because while she sang she would pat both of us on the back, one hand for my sister , Sandra, and one for me. Pat , pat, pat , pat, pat ,pat . On and on. I hated to fall asleep because I knew then it would stop. So I fought to stay awake. Eventually her words became dums, das and dees. By the time we settled the song would have transposed to da da da… tap, da da da …tap, da da da da tap with the das becoming more frequent and the taps less so. She would do this till the proverbial sheep had all crossed over the fence and we entered the twilight zone. Then she eased herself up from the bed , lifted her body over me because I slept on the outside and then down over the side. She must have had some acrobatic skills to do this without disturbing us. This is my earliest recollection of the tactile pleasure derived from stroking. And to this day that feeling I try to replicate.
This week I thought I would try a massage for the first time in my life. I was full of expectation.
The young woman who was going to work on my not so young body was exactly what one would expect in a masseuse. She spoke softly with a gentle smile. In the first few minutes she sought information about what I was looking for. I explained that it was my back , arms and neck that I would like attended to and purely for relaxation. Her feet could stay on the floor. She need not walk up my spine or crush my vertebrae. Gentle manipulation would do. I think she picked up that I was inexperienced. She explained that for an introduction my back and shoulders would be massaged and I could tell her if there was too much or too little pressure.
She left the room to allow me some privacy to undress. I removed my upper garments lay flat on the table between the sheets, placed my head face down on the donut ring and waited. She returned, dimmed the lights to one soft incandescent lamp , and turned on some music. Her preference was Adele. I had thought I might hear nature sounds or flute music but I did enjoy Adele nonetheless.
I know she moved around the table but she did so without my realizing it. The oils were scent free . Personally I like fragrances but I understand the necessity to consider allergic reactions. And the pressure was just right. I did not sleep though I thought I would. That would have been a waste of eighty dollars. Much better to stay conscious and really experience the sensation. I didn’t speak. That is very unusual for me. But I held my tongue and yielded totally to the experience.
It lasted an hour. And I did feel very relaxed. Most people would say it was wonderful. And I agree it is a wonderful experience. However, I would prefer a feather. And if that is too kinky, substitute a barbecue fork. Nothing remotely kinky about that. Make the touch VERY light and travel slowly up , down and across my back , neck and the inside of my arms. Ooooo the thought of it gives me goosebumps of pleasure!
That would be worth a hundred dollars.