My masseuse is a tall slim Thai woman with short hair. She speaks more English than other Thai masseuses I’ve been to but I still have difficulty understanding everything she says.

She leads me down elegant hallways with wooden paneling into a room that is furnished more like a bedroom. On the left is the bathroom, elegantly decorated with glass and dark granite. In the bathroom is  a small closet where I am asked to remove my clothes, underwear and shoes. I undress but leave my knickers on, slide into their rubber sandals, and slip into the light cotton robe I am given.

I double check that my mobile is turned off and head towards the armchair.

The masseuse walks in with a silver basin of hot water in which to soak my feet. There are red rose petals floating and she pours in some oils. She explains everything she does step by step. There is more light in this room than in other massage rooms but I assume it will be dimmed later on.

She gives me a hot face cloth.

I am asked if I have any allergies to any food or oils. No, I don’t.

She asks me  what kind of tea I would prefer after the massage: ginger or lemongrass? Lemongrass I say.

She presents to me a selection of incenses from which to burn and I select something with a Night in the title and she is happy, saying that is the scent she loves.

She suggests a Balinese massage instead of the one I am booked for and I accept. Medium pressure, please.

She informs me that in the Balinese massage there is treatment for the stomach and the breasts. Is that ok? I smile and say: No problem.

She asks me if I need to take a shower after the massage or if I want to keep the oil. No, I said. I will keep the oil.

She asks me where I am from and I’m beginning to think this is the most talkative pre-massage session I have had in a while.

She bathes my feet in the hot scented water and her touch feels good. She removes one foot at a time and dries it thoroughly with the towel at hand.

She moves to the massage bed, removes the covers, and then raises the sheets to shield her eyes from my (almost) naked beauty as I remove the robe and ease myself face down onto the bed. The face hole is lined with a protective white cotton lining. I look down into a bowl of fresh flowers. I make myself comfortable on the bed and prepare for the massage.

The lights are dimmed  in the room. The smell of the incense is growing stronger. The piped music in the background is easy listening New Age style. My body is covered with a cotton sheet. She begins by touching the souls of my feet, through the sheet. She proceeds with an upward motion going slowly, applying pressure. When she reaches my neck, she begins to take off the sheet from my upper body down to my backside, pushing down my knickers further and starts the massage in earnest. Her hands are smooth, firm, and healing as she glides over my body with plenty of scented oil. I let out sighs of relaxations and grunts of satisfaction as she increases the tempo and my muscles and nerve endings respond to her touch.

She stops along the way and asks me if everything is ok and just to stop her if I feel any pain or need anything. I just say ok. My face is down the face hole anyway.

She finishes with my upper body and proceeds with the lower half. Her hands glide up and down the length of my legs, to the bottom of my soles, and then back up again, squeezing, kneading the slippery oil way up the back of my thighs in sweeping, continuous motion. It feels more than good.

All too soon though, she asks me to turn over. Again, she raises the sheet to shield her eyes from my ravishing naked form. I turn around carefully, not wanting to displace any loose muscles.

She covers my eyes with a piece of cloth. She adjusts my legs on the bed and continues her massage, with the same sweeping movements up into the creases of my thighs, around them and back down again.

I realize then that this massage is more invigorating and offering higher sensitivity than others. Should I go with the flow and just relax further? I relax.

The moment comes when she is through with my legs and I honestly am left feeling that I need more.  She pats oil onto my stomach area and massages in circles for a while before moving up to my breasts.

Here she slathers oil and massages without stopping, kneading, applying pressure in a very pleasing manner. Of course she is very professional about it and completely avoids the nipple area.   But my body responds anyway with nipples fully alert, and a very heady zing to the whole situation. I am both very relaxed but at the same time my senses are on dangerously high alert.

She covers my breasts, and the sensation of the cotton sheet is bittersweet against my nipples. Her hands spread from my decollete over my shoulders and down each arm to the end of each hand, rubbing palm against palm.

At this stage, I purposefully let go of all reflexes and tried to pass out for a few moments. I think she did some light massage to my face but by this time I lost consciousness. In a while she whispers something against my ear. I don’t bother to even say “What”.

I was somewhat concerned that the incense would make my throat dry or make the room claustrophobic. It was fine but I do prefer the burning oil scents.

She brings  a cold towel and proceeds to rub me down, removing the excess oil, as I lay there immobilized.

She sits me up and then climbs on the bed behind me to massage my back and shoulders again.

I stand up.  She helps me get the cotton robe back on and walks me to the bathroom, asking me to change my clothes and she will be right back.

I feel good as I change into my clothes and when I go to the armchair, there is an evaluation card with a pen. I don’t like that despite the fact that service evaluation is important. I was not in the mood.

She soon comes in with a tray of lemon grass tea. She also brings thinly sliced cucumbers and carrots and a plate of sliced oranges and green apples with a design in the peel. I find so much food puts me off.  I am in no mood to eat but I crunch on the cucumber and drink lemon grass tea. I love the taste of the tea.

She comes in to place a hot pad around my neck and shortly after I am escorted back to the reception.

I drive away feeling relaxed and happy  but not tired like in the way that happens with some massages.