I chose oil.A balding, shifty-eyed, runty 50ish man in gray “Guccci” sweatpants and sweatshirt led me up a flight of stairs, down a dingy hallway,...into a KTV room.“No, I wanted an oil massage, not karaoke,” I affirmed, but my words fell on deaf ears, and he scurried out.I sat into the butterscotch brown leather couch in the center of the room, thinking perhaps another attendant would arrive to take me to the massage quarters.But a second later, in slinked a very, very pretty young girl, maybe. "I've been having some fun with our toys... especially the black beads. "I know this will be enough to pique your interest. With the toys still inside me, I carefully arrange myself on our bed with legs splayed to allow for easier access. With my mane of long, ombré brown hair spilling over a mountain of downy white pillows, I recline and wait for your response while idly running a hand across my smooth, freshly showered skin.My manicured nails graze my hard, aching nipples and travel slowly. More

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