Day 11 - Man love from Gibson

Well, I am sure I am going to catch it from a couple of you on this, but in the pursuit of being honest and upfront, I will explain my day. I went to get a massage. Now before you get all bent out of shape and carry on with some all too friendly comments, I said massage, not facial or manicure. This is the most basic of manly pleasures. Just like when a husband comes home from a hard day's work and asks his wife to rub his sore shoulders, I went and got a regular massage to seek relief from my life.

So here is where I got a little scared. They hand me a robe. Now, this is a really nice spa and all, but come on, do you really think that is going to cover me. The receptionist had to have seen me standing in front of her. This robe covered roughly 80% of my body. The only thing that went all the way around was the belt. So then I am stuck in this waiting room for them to come and get me and every time that the door opens I try to cross my legs to keep the unsuspecting eye from gandering upon my manhood. The receptionist must have noticed my exaggerated movements as every time after the first, she would just open the door a crack and speak into the door. Very inconspicuous!

So the next thing I know, Gibson walks through the door. I wish I could have taken a picture of him, but he would have had a picture of me burnt in his mind forever if you get what I am saying. It was taking 2 hands to keep the robe semi-covering my svelte being. Gibson is a 6 foot 9 inch hobbit down to the hair on his fingers. In a deep baritone voice he asks me if I am Bob. Trying not to make small talk, I acknowledge this and ask if he is taking me to my masseuse. He sternly corrects me that he is my masseuse. I instantly look for an open window or a closet with a lock that I could lock myself into. Uncovering no escape route except through the door with Gibson, I hesitantly accept his invitation. He seems to linger just long enough in the doorway that I fear making physical contact with him. Then again, I envision just running full speed into the window and breaking through, even if we are on the second floor.

So I follow him to his/my/our private room. While I have had many a massage, again, just a heterosexual manly massage, I have never had a man touch me like I am fearing lays ahead. He politely informs me that I can lie on the bed. While he steps out I quickly check under the bed for shackles or anything else in the cabinets that he could use to subdue me when I least expect it. Finding nothing, I momentarily find a sense of calm, then I realize that there are no windows in this room and he outweighs even me. I quickly think about calling kacey and leaving the phone in the corner of the room on speaker in case things spiral downwards, but realize that I left all my worldly possessions in my locker. Realizing that there is nothing left to do, I inform my guard outside the room that I am ready for what he has to offer.

So once this crazy sense of fear passes, I realize that Gibson may have not been right in any other career so he decided to take up massage. I shouldn't judge him based on his enormous size. So I close my eyes and say a short prayer.

The next thing I know, Gibson has emptied half a bottle of lotion on my back. He quickly works the lotion from there to my arms, head, shoulders, and entire back.......

I will not get into the details of how this massage went moment by moment. Just know that it ended up being a great massage. Normally I like complete silence during my massages, but Gibson and I talked quite a bit. I figured I'd keep my mind from wandering if I focused on his life story rather than the dreadful scenarios that continued to invade my thoughts. He turned out to be quite "normal"; turns out that he just felt like this was his calling. He gave up another job and moved down here to Florida to follow the massage. Kind of a strange man, big hands (Kacey continues to refer to them as his love paddles), and a good massage. Everything I could have hoped for and more...

Until tomorrow...