Review Ruby, a Real Gem (Private Sensual Massage, College Hill)
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There’s been a lot of “bait and switch” type negative stories concerning Asian ladies recently, so I feel compelled to make some kind of defence of these highly skilled and undervalued gems. (What would you cheap bastards do without them?)
At the unholy time of 9 pm in this great city, there’s a surprising lack of options. However, Ruby’s ad seemed promising, and only a leisurely stroll from home. Her response to my booking request: “Are you sure you are coming sometime?” made me wonder. “Yes, at the exact time I stated” – I didn’t say.
I’m not the kind of guy who can ever walk, too shy… but there was a 10-minute Quick Handjob $60 option, if it was a bit grim. But it wasn’t. Ruby was lovely. I’m guessing she’s late 30s, early 40s, but I’m a bad guesser. She advertises her age as “please ask” – (as if I could), but no lie, no foul.
Anyhow, she had a lovely figure dressed in a sparkly black cocktail dress and a beaming, gorgeous smile. (Possibly because I’d actually turned up), I was directed to a tiny stool, a pair of plastic sandals, and led sandal-shod past three very nice empty rooms to hers. I kept thinking, Ruby seems to be the only one working here. How does she pay the rent?
She asked me if I want an hour, and by now I’m all-in, handing over $150, which would be a bargain. She led me through some kind of curtain arrangement, through a lounge area filled with silent massage chairs, to the bathroom, while continually fusing over me. Turning on the obvious light switch and adjusting my shower temperature. Clean, with a few false attempts, I find the right gap in the curtains and make my way back.
Ruby then proceeds to give me an incredibly skilled massage, still fully dressed, and looking fantastic. Interestingly, whenever a kiwi girl can give a half-decent massage, it becomes worthy of note, while every single Asian masseuse I’ve seen is the equal of any legit massage therapist.
There are hands, elbows, and possibly knees going to work, walking the fine line between pleasure and pain, when she becomes distracted. She’s found a pimple and takes great delight in extracting and making me witness its gory contents. I know, TMI. But there’s a strange intimacy about the way she explored my body for imperfections (there are many) and explanations – she hit paydirt later when she found my hernia scar and amused herself greatly when suggesting I’d had a baby.
When she requested, I turn over, she lowered the lights and disrobed. I got to see her surprisingly large breasts, cute little butt, a slight tummy (but who’s quibbling), but also a starlight effect on the ceiling – very flash.
The sexy stuff started, and she asked if I wanted any extras. She offered a BJ (the way I like it) at an embarrassingly low price. I accepted, and all was right in the world.
Showered and dressed (me), she tried to tell me something, but got frustrated with her lack of English. (She should be thankful as she’d been spared my boring self-aggrandising stories). I panicked slightly, and fished for my wallet, worried she thought I was going to stiff her on the BJ money when her phone (in an Australian accent) invited me back to the table, fully clothed for a head massage. “To help you sleep".
There were hugs goodbye in the room, more outside on the porch. What a lovely lady. Give Ruby some much-deserved love as she’s not nearly busy enough.
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