Linda @ New Sandalwood

[Client_u]

Yesterday I tried an AMP called New Sandalwood—even though the name didn’t give me an instant hard-on. Judging from the paucity of rave reviews I fully expected this place, below street-level in a high-rise, with 5 other massage spas nearby, to be a bit of a sleepy hollow.

But there are 4 girls available at 5 PM and, compared to Prosper or Rainbow, New Sandalwood exudes a spacious, clean, charmingly decorated elegance—though wider massage tables would help. The graceful mamasan is in no hurry to collect the room charge and readily shows me the line-up. I'm increasingly amazed by the treasure drove of Asian massage girls available in Vancouver, all desperately awaiting the company of us pooners.

I like 3 of the ladies and am about to pick a slightly serious-looking cutie named Angel when I get introduced to Linda. She's not the prettiest but, with her wickedly sensuous smile along with a robust, down-to-earth, chubby peasant-girl sexiness, she reminds me of a hot lady from my past. Linda seems happy with the $.5 donation and looks naughty in the stockings I brought her.

We go right down to business. Initially she displays a take-charge attitude, guiding me into the beginning of an apparent routine intended to get the average client off as efficiently as possible: smooth undulating movements, predictable heavy breathing, lots of phony moaning and the “Don’t stop now, oh I’m almost coming” kind of comments. Well, I'm not playing: no going mechanically through the motions with me. I find that my ideal pacing in sex rarely corresponds to what a woman imagines it to be. I ask Linda to follow my lead and—to her credit—she adapts to my rhythm, though without showing talent for tuning into my sensibilities.

She's okay with DATY, but nips digits in the bud, and seems averse to sweat and lube on our hands. She keeps wiping me and herself with a towel and, before penetration, carefully wipes the outside of her pussy dry as if I had slobbered too much over it. She obliges me with a credible but somewhat curtailed CG which often doesn’t work well for me with chubbier ladies.

At one point I feel a partial orgasm and get off the massage table to change condoms—I don’t like liquid sloshing around the tip. In a standing-up position—in a gesture of encouragement to give me a CBJ—I bring my freshly wrapped pride-and-joy very close to her face. She ignores the unmistakable cue and switches around so I access her pussy instead. I decide not to make it an issue because I hate to beg for favors a woman isn’t happily offering. On one occasion I do ask her to make eye contact, though.

Our communication stales at the perfunctory level. She doesn't give me the feeling that I could do anything to make sex enjoyable for her too, except by finishing soon. But, in spite of lack of emotional connection, I somehow still manage to wring considerable gratification out of our session, pounding her robust peasant-girl body for a good half hour and especially enjoying the view and feel of her nice ass in doggie.

Something about her attitude strikes me as mildly passive-aggressive, as if she wanted to imply: “Pound me as hard as you want—but you’ll never touch my real self or get me to show any genuine emotion.” She has the identity of a seasoned provider, utterly comfortable with men’s sexuality, but perhaps a little blasé about it and not supermotivated to please. Although she says she still likes men, I imagine to do this job for years and years she has had to build a barrier of self-protectiveness around the tender emotional core of her being.

In my experience, the best erotic partners—including the best SPs—are women who intuitively project the right mix of lustfulness and emotional warmth. You can’t suck blood from a stone, however; and you can’t squeeze affection out of an SP with an entrenched conviction that the only thing that men could possibly want from her is ravish her body.

After my release and a 5-min solo shower we have 20 minutes to spare. After an attempt at cuddling—aborted quickly for lack of connection—I elicit from her a rather feeble effort at massage. We chat a little, and she asks me the usual stuff: what kind of work I do, and why I wasn’t married. I ask if some of the men she sees are shy, and she said yes, a few. She doesn’t like shy men because, she says, they don’t talk, just “wham-bang." She prefers older men because younger ones, she says, also often tend to just “wham-bang” (a favorite word of hers). To some extent, her own lack of emotional expressiveness may be partly to blame, but I decide better not verbalize this point.

“So,” I ask, “is this place usually busy?” A bit hesitantly she answers, “Sometimes busy, usually not busy.” “What do you like better, busy or not so busy?” This time she doesn't hesitate: “Of course, busy!” she exclaims. Before leaving I thank her for a pleasant time when she surprises me with a sincere-sounding compliment: “I like your style,” she says. Without asking exactly what she means, I surprise myself by giving her a .3 tip.

On the way out I notice a different, younger lady I hadn't seen before sitting at the reception, eating a sandwich. I comment on the nice decor of the place, and she suggests, rather abruptly but intringuingly, that next time I should try a 3-some with her and Linda.

I saw no evidence the place had gotten busier since my arrival. I guess what New Sandalwood needs is a business manager—and a different name. What about “Cherry Blossoms” or “Irresistible” or “Endless Joy” or “Sweet Orchids” or “Velvet Touch” or (after my favorite porn website) “Palace Moon”? There’re a myriad of possibilities...but not "New Sandalwood" (or "The Static"). Might as well call an erotic massage spa "Sweaty Socks."

As I returned to my car the endorphins were flooding pleasantly through my bloodstream. As a bonus I had a glorious view of an autumn sunset over Vancouver from my parking spot on Franklin and Boundary.

My rating for Linda: L7 (for those who like the earthy peasant-girl type); A7 (she's technically adept but—does she have her heart in it?); S7 (if you’re concerned only with sex). Repeat? Well, I’ll certainly revisit New Sandalwood and perhaps try Angel...or the new receptionist.

 

[psymon]

Thanks for the review T, an exceptional read!!!