I thought that I'd share the story of my first experience from when I was 16, what is going on now that I'm 63, and ask a question.

I grew up in an agrarian small in Iowa (about 600 ppl). The drinking age was 18, but the owner of the local bar, and our town marshall/water/sewer man (the federal government had just mandated that incorporated cities over a certain population could no longer use septic tanks) didn't care. There was just nothing for teenagers to do. So, the rules were that you could sit in the bar, but you couldn't drink it. If you wanted to drink, he would sell you a case of beer (25 cents/can), but you had to take someplace to drink it and don't get into trouble. The whole town knew. Even the county sheriff new.

in 1977, when I was 16, I was sitting in the bar one Friday or Saturday night. I was visiting with Larry Smith (RIP). Larry was one of the best maintainer operators in the state and had daughter a year or two behind me in school. He was also a drunk. He asked to drive him, in his car, to the Red Garter in Ottumwa (about 35K ppl). I said, "Sure, but you'll have to tell where it is." Off we went. It was a massage parlor. He generously paid for me. I was still a virgin and I don't think I had even begun dating yet (otherwise I wouldn't have been sitting in the bar). I had absolutely zero clue what a massage parlor even was.

I went into the room and sat on the table; fully clothed. In walked an attractive black woman. Because of a TBI I had in the military and its effect on my memory, I don't remember the conversation, but I do remember that she was willing, but I was too embarrassed to take off my clothes. So, I returned to the lobby and waited for Larry. I'm sure he knew that I didn't go through with it, but he never teased me. I also know that, even if unspoken, he would have willingly accompanied me in the future (they never would have serviced an unaccompanied minor). All I needed was to ask. I never did.

So, my life goes on. I join the military, go to work for government contractors (that's where the big money was - adjusted for inflation six figures today). I always thought of myself as just an average looking guy but, looking back, maybe I was better looking than I thought. I got all the nookie I wanted. Anytime I wanted it. So, massage parlors weren't even a thought for me. By 1993, when I was 32, I hadn't married, so my mother had no qualms about manipulating me to return to my hometown to help her with starting a business.

When I returned, I quickly learned that any woman worth dating had already paired off. There were those divorced women with instant families (from my perspective) and I did try dating some of them, but I just couldn't develop an interest in them. After a few years of taking matters into my own hands, I remembered the Red Garter. As you might expect, it no longer existed.

Now we jump to 2009. My mother dies after a short battle with cancer. I look at my situation and determine that I'm stuck here. In 2010 (I'm 49), the thought of a massage parlor occurs to me again. I've been taking matters into my own hands for so long that I thought I should look on the Internet. Low and behold, there is one Ottumwa. It is open right now. I jump into my car. Remember, at this point, I have no idea how this works.

I walk in. There is wall with an open door and sign with times/rates. I can also see a, larger than normal, hallway. through that hallway I can see that there is something more. I'm not if there are more rooms or what back there. A thin, average looking oriental female walks out and, with a heavy accent, asks, "How long?" I figure that 30 minutes wouldn't be enough to ensure that she would know what I was seeking and 90 minutes would be too long for me to go without a cigarette. I asked for an hour. She leads me through the door, exits, and closes the door. I strip, lay down on the table, and cover my butt with towel. She comes back begins the massage. She is making no attempt to speak. After a bit, I decide that I may need to be more direct. When I can, I touch her thigh. She moves away. I try again. This time she doesn't move away. and has me flip. She doesn't replace the towel.

I wasn't erect while I was on my stomach but, as I flipped, I became erect. This was the first physical contact I'd had with a woman in years. just the possibility of a HJ stimulated me. She acted as if she was impressed with my size. This made no sense to me because it was about this time I had noticed, while masturbating, that I wasn't as big as in my younger days.* After a bit of massaging my front, she gives me sign that I interpreted as her wanting me to finish myself off. So, I began. She did show me her small tits and let me feel them. I left wondering if that was all there. Was the nothing more? In an hour with her, she never spoke a word. So, I didn't know if it was a language barrier or if they just didn't offer more. Either way, I saw no need to return. Especially because in 2011 I was invited to join a fraternal organization that had, as one of its benefits, a private "harem."

A couple of years ago, I left that organization. I had heard stories about rules violations, but that year, I saw it for myself. I just couldn't remain knowing for a fact that it was occurring.

Something around a year ago, when I was 62, I got curious about Reddit. Exploring different topics, I found the previous incarnation of this sub. I absorbed the information, but didn't act until about 2 months ago. I knew I would be passing close to, what I now knew was, the AMP in Ottumwa. I checked to see if was still in business and decided to stop by on my way home.

I walked and, as expected, I was greeted by a different woman. Cuter this time, but definitely shaped like a pear. So much so that I was later able to see that her skirt pulled her belly together so much that where belly button should be, it looked like a butt crack.

SIDE NOTE: In my life HJs and BJs were just preliminaries to the main feature. With one exception from one of the "harem," nobody had ever intended to finish me those ways. Even the exception had work hard at it. Her arms were worn out. Also, I've always had a lot of staying power, even during the main feature. This is blessing and a curse.

This I stripped and didn't use the towel. While working on my back, she pressed down in 2 separate places on my spinal column. I didn't complain because these were both places that had given me pain for years. The next day I realized what she had done. With her doing better at relaxing my back than any chiropractor I had been to, she placed those spots back into position. (I had finally given up chiros a few years before) I touched her and she didn't object. On the flip, everything went as you would expect. I correctly interpreted the international sign this time and asked, "How much?" She gave me a number and I offered 40% of that. She accepted. Of course, she didn't have enough to finish me. She did pop her tits out. She was disappointed. Even with the language barrier, I was to convey that I wasn't upset. She invited me back the following week, to which I was noncommittal.

One last thing, she had briefly left the room a couple of times while I was on my stomach. I remember that once was for a phone call, which she kept brief. I don't remember what the other time was for or I never knew. When we exited the room, she unlocked the entrance door. She hadn't locked it when I came in, so she must've locked it on one those brief trips.

October 9th. I was preparing to visit a friend who now lives about 4 hours from me. He had asked that, if possible, I bring him a couple of Hawkeye cups to replace the ones he had for years. I found that I could only get them at university bookstore and so made a trip to Iowa City. Before I left, I checked RubMaos and located the AMP closest to the bookstore. There are others, but I chose the one closest to my route of travel.

It wasn't well marked. In fact, none of the building in that area were well marked; none had building numbers that could be seen from the road. Waze didn't bother telling me which side of the road it was on when told me that I had arrived. The obvious side would have to my left. I drove through but didn't see it. As I exited the parking lot and turned down the road traveling in the opposite direction, I saw it on my left....barely.

I waked into an alcove with the rates on the wall in front of me, a doorway to the left, and an open door to the right where the MTs obviously relaxed and/or lived. A young woman with a nice body comes out wearing a mask. If I hadn't noticed, at the university bookstore, that some people are still wearing masks in that city, I would've questioned, in my head, "Why the fuck are people still wearing masks?" but I had already done that at the bookstore.

Her English was much better (as might be expected in city with a major university?) I saw an opportunity to see if they would offer change when presented with more money than required for the allotted time requested. (Plus, I only had 20s) I asked for 30 minutes. She walks me thru the doorway into a larger room. That room was divided into 3 areas. The first was a larger alcove type area and the others were smaller with curtains hanging over their entrances; clearly the massage rooms. She leads me into one of the rooms and I hand her 3 20s. She hesitates, makes slight move like she would be exiting to get change, and asks if I wanted an hour. I agree. She exits, closes the curtain, I strip, and lay down sans towel.

I have my hands by my by head. When she returns, she places my arms down over the sides of the table with my hands dangling. She never moves close enough for me to make any attempt to touch her. As she moves to my legs, she pushes a bit between my thighs. So, I open my legs to see if she will tease me. She does. After a bit, I begin raise my ass. She reciprocates. As I'm now 63 and haven't treated my back well in my youth, it doesn't take long until my lower back begins to hurt. I place my hand on my lower back and groan. She flips me. As with MT in Ottumwa, she seems impressed. Since I'm now only about 70% of what I was in my younger days, I wonder if this is just gaslighting or if she is impressed by size for my age (something I'd also wondered about at the other place). I choose to believe the latter.

She signs for HJ, quickly followed by signing BJ??? I ask how much. I'm not sure I have enough bills and tell her so. She says ok and proceeds to jerk me. Drops her to reveal some nice tits. By the shape, I'm not sure they are natural but, with her youth, it is possible. While working on me she is complimenting me, telling me that I have the perfect size. That my size feels good. That it doesn't hurt. This makes me wonder if she might consider more after another visit or 2. Because of the curtains and the general layout (which offered only minimal privacy), I was doubtful if would be offered there, but possibly off site.

Her arms quickly tired. I explained that the problem is me, but that I enjoyed the touch of a woman regardless. After dressing and stepping out, she came to bid farewell. I made sure to get her name and asked for her phone number. She eagerly agreed and entered into my phone. For clarity, I showed her my calendar, explaining that I was going on a trip and when I'd be back. I promised to contact her for an appointment after I returned. I did, but she was leaving for Denver with no decision as to whether she would return or not. Oh, well. You can't win them all.

So, last Friday, I needed to make the same trip by Ottumwa. Same woman. Acts disappointed that I hadn't been there for so long. Off we go. I won't get into the details, but just cover some things of note. While on my stomach, a couple walks in. She has to stop to greet them. From the conversation, it obviously the woman who wants a massage. I couldn't figure out why the man was with her. I wondered if the MT was going to "fully release the woman's tensions" and the man would watch or what. It didn't really matter and I dismissed the thought. Because she sent them away with a time to return, I determined that this is one room place and that whoever is working there, also lives there in that area off the hallway. Also, while attempting to communicate after the flip, she exited and returned with a phone which had a translation app on it. This time she also massaged my scalp. She actually spent more time than needed on it, but I knew exactly why. There has been no female who has touched my hair that didn't love it. I've always had baby fine hair, and a lot of it. Women absolutely love touching it. Lastly, again, she had to unlock the entrance door as I left. She's actually not a half bad MT.

So, now I have some questions. Does the difference between having a door and a curtain indicate any difference in the level services offered?

At these 2 places, I've never seen anything to indicate, nor have I been offered, a TS. Is that something that would be listed on the menu or that you have to ask for? If it is something that one must request, what are some of the signs that would indicate that it is offered? Are there any signs of anything that I might have missed (that is why I spent so much time describing the layout of the places)?

As to descriptions of the layouts, the massage room in Ottumwa is larger than it needs to be. There is a counter running along one wall with cabinet upper and lowers. It terminates into another small room that is big enough to have a shower in it. But it might also be just a large closet with or without a stack washer dryer. When she gets the warm towel to wipe off the oil, it sounds like she is opening a cabinet not a door. On my first visit, I didn't notice where she got the towel to wipe my front. On my second trip, she didn't bother doing anything to my front but went straight to my erection. Because I wasn't focused on what exactly she was doing, I'm not sure but I think she quickly opened the door and grabbed a warm washcloth to wipe off the oil. I'm not big on opening doors that I'm not clearly invited to open, but should I look when she leaves when I'm stripping down?

Thanks for reading and any advice that you might have.