Thursday, March 10, 2005

Full Body Massage

Okie Dokie.

The US Army has seen to it that soldiers have Full Body Massages availible to them during this war on terror. Though you may think I am being sarcastic, you are sorely mistaken. It is my firm belief that access to the full body massage has in itself single handedly provided the much needed support to help us go out and fight this war on terror.

My story beings as thus. I entered the beauty salon in Bagram Air Base, and hour after lunch. Lunch that day had a bit of a latin theme to it. So I opted for the fajitas and refried beans. Little did I know how this would later impact my relaxation period with the massuse Nadia.

First, I am seated on a bench where I remove my boots and slip into some grimey ass sandals that the lady sprays promptly with Lysol disinfectant. This does not sway me. I am going to get my first full body massage and nothing can bring me down. Nothing except....the slight rumbling in my belly.

I place my hand on my stomach and suddenly realize that I might have a slight gas build up as a result of my lunch selection.

"Follow me sir." The desk attendant says as she escorts me to my massage table. The table itself is surrounded by curtains, much like you would find in a hospital. Too add some privacy to the situation. I remove my shirt and wait there for the massuse to arrive. I twidle my thumbs for a moment or two before Nadia arrives. Nadia is obviously Asian by heritage, but speaks with a thick russian accent. This throws me for a loop. Thats like a mexican talking with a British accent, its just not natural. Anyhow. Nadia smiles at me and in her oh so perfect broken English says.

"Full Body, sir." Then points to my pants.

*Blush*

I only paid 16 dollars. I didnt realized this was going to happen. So I promptly remove my DCU pants. Luckily I had showered that morning and put on a fresh pair of polo boxers. Normally we have to wear the doo doo brown briefs. Those things are vile. Yet, no one really checks that part of your uniform so its left to the individual soldiers discression.

So now, clad only in my polo's I follow her instruction and lay down on the table. Almost instantly she throws some lube on my back. Im not sure what it was, but it was cold as hell.

Then she starts massaging my back. This is a good thing. It was very relaxing and despite her diminutive size she had a vice like grip with her hands. She spends about 15 mintues on my back and I am feeling really good. Then she grabs my boxers! *Gasp* She rolls the top part down and starts to massage my lower back and tail bone area. This should have felt great, but the only thing that was crossing my mind was if I had wiped my ass good when I last took a dump.

Im sure the last thing this girl wants to see is some dirty mexican dingleberries hanging out while she is working. Luckily, she didnt reek back in horror or faint, so I knew I as okay for now.

Then one of her co-workers walks in. Another female, not a stunner, but easy on the eyes. They begin speaking in Russian. I have no idea what they are talking about but out of the corner of my eye I can see the new girl taking glances at me. Awkward.

Are they talking about me? Do I have dingleberries? Does she think I'm hot? So many questions! Damn your communist language!

So she leaves and the massuse continues her work. The does my legs and arms for a bit. Then resquests me to roll over. Do only to my sheer force of will and complete state of bliss, there were no awkward moments or protrusions.

Then my stomach grumbles. Oh man! I forgot about my gas. Immediately the girl starts to rub my chest and then goes lower toward my stomach. Right now my butt cheeks are water tight. I am so scared I am going to fart and kill this poor girl. She continues to rub my stomach. This way and that. Side to side. Front and Back. I make a weird face and she asks?

"Is okay yes?"

"Sure everything is fine." I reply through clenched teeth.

I could blow at any second. If I do, the entire beauty salon will be forced to empty out. People could faint. The entire security of the base relies on my ability to keep the gigantic fart brewing inside me quite till she moves on.

And in an instant. She moves down to my legs. I breath a sigh of relief as the threat has passed. She will live to see another day, never knowing how close she came to disaster. It was like the Cuban missile crisis.

So an hour passes and she completes her job. I am relaxed and a bit on the oily side.

I kindly thank her, clothe myself, and make a hasty exit of the establishment. Turning quickly into an alley to unleash the fury welling up within me.

My name is Xavier, and I defend freedom :p

8 Comments:

At 10:34 AM, Blogger CaliValleyGirl said...

Lol...LMAO...that is really funny. Your writing reminds me a little of Sminklemeyer's...here's one of his more humorous posts:
http://desert-smink.blogspot.com/2004/12/care-packages.html

 
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