massage..

A few years ago I massaged for a living.. well a corner of my living was paid for by massage.
I was massaging a friend a while back (he’s also a massage therapist) and we were talking about sex with our clients..
Aside from one time (cut me some slack it was only once..).. I have never and he has never had sex with a client.. Yet it is the thing most of our friends want to know about over a beer.. When you meet new people and say that you massage often the question that comes up is ’so have you ever had sex on the table?’

Honestly it is the LAST thing you feel like doing with a client after pouring out all your energy for them in a treatment.. the last thing you want to do is to give more of yourself.

That said, I have had sex on a massage table a few times.. I am not saying it was MY massage table but there was a table involved.. and can I say it was pretty awesome.. But this is not that story..

I used to massage a Samoan woman weekly. She had a pretty exhausting life and each week she’d see me and sleep on my table while I worked her body. She’d bring along one or two of her kids and then she’d slide off the massage table and sleep on my couch while I massaged them as well. She didn’t mind paying extra for her kids.. she just wanted to be out of her house.

Her kids ranged in age from 19 – 6. Her 19 year old boy would often drop his mother off for a massage, go and work out at the gym for an hour or so and come pick her up after the treatment. One night after about a year of this she persuaded him to get a massage. A last minute decision, she just wanted to keep relaxing on my couch for a bit longer.. So.. he agreed.

I started the consultation as I always do – with a brief history. No injuries. Heaps of exercise. Fit looking boy. At least 6′2.. Ohhh lovely smile.. shy and whew.. young..

I asked him to prepare for the massage.

Take your clothes off, strip down to your briefs and lay on the table, drape this towel over your back and I’ll be back in a minute..

What if I am not wearing briefs..

Oh.. me sweating.. strip off to your boxer shorts then.. that’s OK.

Oh.. OK

I came back in the room a few minutes later and he was laying in the table. The massage began as I slowly draped the towel down his back unveiling his young dark velvet skin.. I was overwhelmed with his absolute beauty.. and stood staring at his back.. before I even touched him I looked at what I was about to make contact with for the next hour and.. I felt a line of water run from my mouth.. and watched it splash on his lower back.. I DRIBBLED on my client!!!

His little brother was sitting on the couch with his sleeping mother, watching every.. single.. thing..

I kicked into professional mode and just worked into his muscles from then on (with oil, not spit) and finished up his back..

Time for the legs.

I hadn’t forgotten that he wasn’t wearing briefs and expected the boxers instead. Young boys like boxers.. it was OK. I knew what to expect.. Until.. I started to drape the towel to expose his glutes (butt muscles) and there were no boxers.. and there were no briefs.. and I started to feel a little.. umm.. my heart started to race and I felt professionalism leak away as I exposed more of his muscular butt than I was expecting to.. I was already on shaky ground with the dribbling incident behind me.. and I was about to expose all of his backside… when I felt a little resistence at last.. He was wearing a g-string!

You coulda knocked me over with a feather.. true I was stunned and my heart was pounding and I was feeling a little weak kneed.. I am not partial to g-strings on myself.. or anyone else that I can think of.. but this panther of a boy all muscles and lithe youth under my hands and I was shaken..

His mother was sleeping in the room.. and his little brother was still all eyes watching my every move. I swear as God is my witness I would have bitten down on that arse if they hadn’t been there..

I didn’t see the boy again for a few months. I kept asking after him but his mother just giggled a lot and said that he’d be back one day. I felt exposed! Did the little one tell them about the spit? The lusty look in my eyes?

No, apparently I was too strong for him. He did come back for several more treatments. But I had to promise to be gentle..

away with plan a..

Plan A called me this morning, early, on his way to the airport.
He rarely initiates a call. I thought it was interesting that the morning after I cooked dinner for someone else, he calls..
Anyways.
He is flying to Sydney for a conference until Monday evening. I cheekily say I wish I had more notice, because I would love to have gone with him. Really?
Really. [well.. not really - but, you know sometimes you just say these things]
Next week he is headed to Qld for another conference where he will be one of the guest speakers.
Would you come to hear me speak?
I would love to hear you speak! [well.. not really - but, you know sometimes you just say these things]

Not going to QLD next week – too far for me to get to an airport..
The game continues.

no master chef..

It’s been a long time since I cooked anything that required a process or had more than two ingredients.. Yowsers. My cooking last night was so crap.. I can only begin to tell you how awful the food was.. Too much salt.. I went tinned tomatoes instead of fresh because the fresh ones were too green.. sweet sweet sweet sweet potato awful. It was awful..

The company however was stimulating, charming.. and not gay!
Breakfasting together on Sunday.

wondergirl..

A few little random things :
Is it just me.. or does everyone feel like a superhero when they come up with a fantastic idea?

When inviting a fella over for dinner, it’s important to clean ALL of the toilet, isn’t it? Cos they see more of it than women do.. I usually always do clean all of the toilet mind you.. I am just saying..

I think my subconscious is age-ist.. Have noticed that the [vintage] book that made it to the top of the pile in the bookshelf is She Liked Them Young.. Hee hee!

I have a meeting in the morning with one of my favourite people in the world.. An old five foot tall man with long hair and no teeth.

Have rearranged the lounge and dining room 57 times tonight.. but no matter how you look at it, it looks like a twelve year old did the decorating..

Spent a half hour training the dog tonight. Confident that he knows the commands sit and down and stop.. Confident that he can now do them.. when he feels like it.. and when he doesn’t want to obey commands, I am confident that he will stare into the middle distance and plead domestic deafness..

I love fresh juice.. but wish someone could come up with an easy to clean juicer design.. I am OVER it. I know I am not the only one – someone could make a packet with that new design, a PACKET!

It’s interesting that when I look around at all my old stuff I can imagine that people who hadn’t seen it all before would be quite interested in it.. I think.

I only have one mug/cup that doesn’t have either a chicken, rabbit, duck or bear on the front of it.. Yesterday I made a coffee for a big scary man [he is - 6 foot a hundred and intimidating] in a pink and white mug with Miffy on it [that John gave me for my birthday].. I realised at that moment that I have an animal fetish when it comes to cups.

I have just bought a dinner set [on ebay] because it was called Beryl.

No matter how many times I hear it The Tennants song You Shit Me to Tears it never gets old..

Three times a week the sunset I drive through on my way home from work is so breathtaking I need to pull over to the side of the road and photograph it [with my camera-phone].
I bought new suuuuper duuuuuuper batteries to whack into my camera.. I swear I knew where it was 3 days ago.. but now I can’t find it..
Hmmm.. the batteries need to go somewhere…….

It’s hard to have a hierarchical workplace when you are the only one still standing.
I’m waiting for the Board at my old work to finally wake up and realise that the common denominator in all of [5] the sackings/forced exits and redundancies is the very person they have stood behind from the start.

I sat down at my computer just now to make a couple of mixed dinner music cd’s for tomorrow night.. but have drunk a glass of wine and written this instead..

If I could be anyone on the planet right now I would be Mia Dyson. OOH! Tour dates! She is in the States right now.. check her out if you have a chance.
Her song You and Me is the current car dancing favourite.. [this is an interview and the accoustic version.. she is a cool cool cool chick].

Finishing up so I can clean the juicer.

on isolation..

Six years ago a single woman moved to my town to take up the job I am holding now. She removed herself from her social circle and tried as best as she could do make new friends up here.. It took her years.. I am not surprised.
She is married with a new child, now.
But still – it’s like she has no light. Others comment on it too.

When we talk about my journey. She says that she has had the same experience.. So many similarities.

At times I feel like I am in solitary confinement. Work is all colour and movement – but then there is the silent non-work time.
The phone is a lifeline. Plan A laughing in my ear last night while we talked.. Throw the damned ball! he demanded as he could hear Taz’s desperate ball obsessed singing in the background..
It’s not the same.
Email. Brief conversations with The Doctor.. I feel like an addict on the brink of relapse. But there will be no relapse while he’s [married and] so far away.
Facebook. I meet my friends there. I have hated that site from the beginning and now I use it.. I use it because it makes them seem so close..

This weekend will be something new.. Dinner with.. I want to call him Piano Man.. [ha!] on Friday.. drinks with gorgeous funny girl on Saturday afternoon and dinner Saturday night with two couples I have met.
But.
They aren’t my people.. You know?

dinner date..

The devastatingly urbane man is coming for dinner on Friday.
I am expecting no more than friendship..
I am not even sure that this guy is straight for lord’s sake. When I left Sydney 5 years ago I left my gaydar at the door.. like I wasn’t going to need it where I was going..

Anyways.

Fail-safe and stunning vegetarian recipes graciously recieved in my box.

i am good and yet maybe i am misguided..

Work really is my life now. From the meeting in my dining room this morning where I was caught still wearing my dressing gown [!!].. to the phonecall tonight at 6.47pm.. to the real need to debrief about the day tonight.

I have had a meeting about Indigenous art projects [xfour].. that could be worth quite a few thousand dollars in funding and a whole helluvalotta support from the local council.. I have had a meeting about public art and the redevelopment of a HUGE roundabout at the entry to the town [a bit boring - but important].. and an impromtu meeting with a giggling cheeky yet intense man who is notoriously difficult to pin down about how the fuck we are going to keep his Indigenous Art course alive at the local training institution..
Another meeting booked in with him on Thursday.. I can’t tell you how like gold this guy is.. EVERYBODY wants him – wants to spend time with him – wants him in meetings/committees every fucking thing.. and he disappears because of it.. disappears of the face of the planet [there are so many jokes around how elusive he is..].. but.. today.. he rang me! giggling.. cheeky bastard.. and asked me! to spend some time with him.. and truly – it’s very rare to get him pinned down..

The day has me feeling YAAAAAHHHHHHH! and in desperate need for a debrief. Fuck.. I truly love my job.

Tonight on the drive home [in my 3 day old Subaru Impreza] I did a whole lotta carseat dancing..

stalker x stalker =

So.
I have met this devastatingly urbane dude. He lives three blocks from me. An educated anomaly in this little rural town. Since speaking to him on the phone the first time two or three weeks ago I have been hooked in to him. Meeting him in his light filled house with the bookshelves lining the walls, a grand piano in the living room and the rugs he collected while living in Europe made my mind swing back to the time when I was at University being [unsuccessfully] wooed by a photographer and poet. Talking to him on the phone [always about business/work] or in person makes my stomach feel hollow, I can hear my heart beating..
I admit that I don’t need to drive past his house each time I head to the shops, or on my way to work.. but I do, just in case.. just in case..

Anyways.

Saturday I rushed back home from Melbourne as I had a dinner invitation with some new friends. An hour into my journey the host rang and cancelled as she was ill. I happened to be buying wine [for the dinner] at a cellar door when she called.
So.
I called the man from three blocks away and spoke with the answer machine.

Hi.. It’s Kimba, calling you outside business hours. My dinner plans have fallen through and I have two beautiful bottles of wine. Was wondering if you would fancy a drink this evening?

Sounding very self conscious I thought – but I was distracted by my heart and my stomach..

No reply on the Saturday.. no reply on the Saturday evening.. nothing on Sunday [though I did a drive by and noticed his car was not in his driveway].. Sunday evening I headed out to buy something for dinner.. Glanced at my phone. Decided not to be a slave to it, and left the house without it.
The whole weekend I was imagining him waiting until Monday to call – to keep it in the business mode that we had been sailing along on.. Calling myself a HUGE LOSER for ever thinking he’d like to spend his social time with me..

I drove past his house. The car was in the driveway.

Twenty minutes later I returned home.
The phone. Three missed calls.
Three. All from him.

One message.

Kimba. I have been away for the weekend [adjudicating some opera competition somewhere] so have only received your message now. It’s Sunday now.. so I have missed your Saturday invitation haven’t I? If I had been here I would have loved to have taken up your offer. If I am free some Friday or Saturday night I’d love to catch up with you. I’ll call you and ask you over .. or .. or.. yes call me again, won’t you?
I must say it really was a pleasure to hear your voice..

A pleasure to hear my voice. *grins*
I wonder if he has been doing some drive bys of his own..

absent lovers..

A question or 12.

Have you ever had an online lover?
How did it start? Where did you meet online?
How long did it last?
What did you transition through.. emails, IM, Skype, webcam?
Did you meet? What happened if you did?
Is/was your lover interstate/overseas? How does distance effect you?
Is it a legitimate relationship?
Can you talk to your friends about your online lover?

I am keen to know.. comments box or email [the love quote at hotmail dot com] .. just tell me.

weekend..

8.5 has disappeared again after I sent a message saying I wasn’t quite over what happened six months ago.. my fault not his..
[you'd all love to hear the story of what happened.. and I'd love to tell it my way.. but there'd be retaliation somewhere around here in blogland so I'll keep it quiet.. sorry]

cuz has a busy agenda *shrug*

dinner and drinks with my [sober for 4 months] ex-lover [good god - 20 years ago!] T almost resulted in a pash and grab.. I am being dramatic – it was on offer for sure – but there is no way [even after 4 wines] that I would re-visit that destination.
I am quite leery of substance addiction..
Kind of like being mauled by a dog. You never fully trust any dog after that..

A message from The Doctor asking the address of the motel I am staying has made my insides swim..
I have said it before.. and over and over.. I miss him..
But.
There is no going backwards. I am however, open to negotiation..