Anytime I enter a mall it's a sure bet I'm gonna get a migraine and suffer dehydration in addition to losing yet another little piece of my soul to the gods of commerce. On prior visits of the Kings Plaza Mall (or, KPM, as it is known, which is distinct from KMP in both usage and construction) I had eyeballed these massage chairs, which are outfitted with currency acceptors and are conveniently located by the kiddie rides on the first floor outside Macy's. The concept intrigued me and the entry cost was very low, so I decided to give them a try.
The chairs look to be relatively young - possibly 3 or 4 years old, but you know how hard it is to tell how old chairs really are, particularly when they may have been reupholstered. I reviewed the lineup and chose chair #2, whose pale blue polyvinyl upholstery reminded me of the seats in the first car I ever owned. I sat down and inserted a 5 dollar bill for 5 minutes.
The massage was merely OK. It was a bit mechanical and robotic, which I suppose is unsurprising given the mechanical and robotic nature of the provider.
As the five minute mark approached I began to panic a little, wondering when she'd start the happy ending. As the massage ended and the gears stopped grinding, I was perplexed...no handjob? What sort of massage was this?
Then I remembered: I needed to tip to get my happy ending. I fished another 5 out of my pocket, inserted it, and....the massage started again. This was going nowhere fast.
For me, a massage just isn't complete if I don't get to fire off a round or two, so I decided the happy ending here would be "self-service". Note: You're gonna need at least one bulky winter coat and some serious focus and concentration to pull this one off, but if you do, you'll be ready for another hour of shopping with a big grin on your face.
I arranged my coat just right and began administering my own handjob with the right hand as I did some roaming with the left. The chair had nice curves, and OTU (over the upholstery) roaming was unlimited. I could swear, I even heard the gears inside the thing creak in a way that sounded exactly like "you so strong."
I closed my eyes and beat my meat like it was a bad donkey. All around me I could hear gasps and cries of disgust but I blocked them out and blew a big sticky load into a wax paper bag that a few short moments before had contained three appropriately named Otis Spunkmeyer chocolate chip cookies.
I opened my eyes and saw a burly security guard approaching rapidly. I jumped up and bolted into Macy's, disappearing among the racks of slacks like a rabbit diving into its warren.
It was a fun learning experience but I don't think I'll go back, mainly because Mall Security has posted signs all over the mall with a picture of me from their security cameras under the heading "Known Pervert."
On the other hand, as I looked back over my shoulder while making my break from the place, I could swear chair #3 was winking at me...
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