Next was the ultra-opulent Mandarin Oriental Spa, known for its lavish views and obsequious service. "I felt like I could throw a fit over the temperature of my Pellegrino, and it wouldn't be out of the ordinary," Joanna observed. This time, her method consisted of suggestive moaning and pulling the strategically placed towel away during the "inner thigh" portion of her deep tissue massage. Her masseur, immaculately groomed and very clearly gay, resisted her advances, saying simply, "I love my job here, and I'd do anything to keep it." Afterwards, he pulled her aside and said, "Honey, I think what you need is to visit the Vitality Pool."
"I couldn't figure out what he meant," she said. "Then I saw the Vitality Pool." Located in the ladies-only "Heat Experience Room," it consists of a tub filled with room-temperature water, a bench made of metal bars, and intense water jets that shoot up straight from the floor. "As soon as I sat down, I realized what he was getting at," said Joanna. "There's no point of having an open bench in a hot tub where jets shoot up between your legs other than to have an orgasm. It took me all of two minutes of sitting there [to climax], then the woman who went in after me looked like she took 30 seconds."
While the experience was refreshing ("I definitely left with a glow") we still had two spas down and no results. Then Joanna got a tip in the Mandarin's plush relaxation room. "I started chatting with this woman in her mid-thirties, who looked like she went to spas all the time," she said. "When I mentioned I was going to another spa tomorrow, she told me 'Oh, you have to go to Cornelia. You should ask for Tron [definitely not his real name]; he's fantastic.' Her voice did not sound like she was describing a massage."
The next day, Joanna arrived at Cornelia primed for victory. "The second I saw Tron, we had instant chemistry," she said. "He was definitely hot. I flirted with him all the way from the waiting room to the massage room, and we chatted about our lives. When we got inside, I talked about how I hated having underwear and towels constricting me during massages, and he said, 'I'm comfortable with you having them off.' About 15 minutes into the massage, I let my hand graze his thigh and I could see his erection. Finally, he turned me over, and it was on."
Kissing turned to heavy petting with a strong dose of grinding, until he was on top of her on the massage table. Joanna recalls the make-out session as being totally comfortable — at one point, they both started laughing — but after the first few minutes, she broke away, saying, "I'm sorry, this is so inappropriate." His response: "Sweetie, you are my reward for the two men who asked me for happy endings earlier today. I told them no — but for you, I won't tell if you won't." When she coyly asked if she was the first woman who'd expressed interest in more than a massage, he sidestepped with, "Well, you know how it is."
The impromptu liaison went on for the rest of the hour, and another 30 minutes beyond. "It was very romantic and totally mutual — it didn't feel like I was just being serviced," she recalls. "He asked after a while if I wanted to have sex, but neither of us had a condom," said Joanna. "I considered giving him a blow job, but then I was like, 'I'm paying for this!'"
Her advice after a successful venture? "You have to be open to having that kind of experience. And not exactly be subtle about what you want." When it comes to massage sex, the chances are high that you'll encounter fuzzy boundaries and ephemeral guidelines, and one woman's violation may be another's fantasy. But just as with a female presidential candidate, whether you think happy endings are the pinnacle of bliss or the apex of vileness, it's still nice to have the option.