The Uncensored Massage: Massage and Sex in America and Elsewhere

By P.C. Anders

A redheaded masseuse touches a married man all over, under a thin cotton sheet, and he is thus arroused and introduced to the sexual revolution in the once puritanical American massage scene, now made richer by Holism, Koreans, Russians, Chinese, Southeast Asian, Latin American & East European immigrants. Thus begins a personal pursuit of pain and pleasure, which, intertwined, lead him from innocent to tantric and erotic massages in New York and elsewhere.
Honest, thought-provoking, occasionally hilarious, the episodes include accidental sex in the massage parlors of New York, Russians administering Tantric Massage on Wall Street, a no-square-inch-unlicked massage by a Finnish blonde, why some masseuses regard penises as the Goddess's gift to women (while others keep a 12-inch distance from them), the care and protection of balls (the world's first literary Essay on Bollocks), a philosophical approach to happy endings, what to do when your "guitar" weeps, and why anatomical innocence can be a most delightful thing. A combination guide, meditation, and massage memoir, this book tells all with wit and non-pc honesty.
Its companion book, "The Uncensored Massage Book: Thailand, Indonesia, China, Vietnam" concentrates almost exclusively on massage in various Asian countries, while other books concentrate on other specific geographical or anatomical locations, including penises and yonis. Meant for mature non-pc readers with a sense of humor.

Around 28,000 words or 100 paperback pages..

• Language: English
• Publisher: P.C. Anders
• Release date: Dec 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301991129

P.C. Anders

What does a Vietnamese masseuse mean when she asks, "Massage Your Baby"? Why is lingam massage a hot topic in the Philippines? Suggestions for the Care and Protection of Balls, and against penile insult: Massage-lover P.C. Anders writes uninhibited, lighthearted, uncensored, sexy, and funny stories about massage, often playing with words, language, ideas, and observations of travel and women. He agrees with Mark Twain, who wrote: "Nature knows no indecencies. Man invents them." He believes that massage is a humanizing force, a force for peace, and that "the simple desire to reach out and touch someone" (Houellebecq) and to be touched is a deeply human instinct that will, in addition, make us a more peaceful planet.

Book preview

The Uncensored Massage:

Massage and Sex in America and Elsewhere

P.C. Anders (Peter Anders)

Copyright © 2013 P.C. Anders

Revised edition: © 2018 P.C. Anders

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Content Disclaimer: The characters and events in this book are fictional and imaginary, a projection of fantasy, and any resemblance to real persons, events, or countries is purely coincidental. Creative liberties using a modicum of reality as a springboard are a regular feature of this author’s writings.

Twitter: @imbooks

Blog: http://uncensoredmassage.tumblr.com

Cover design by Kathleen Valentine

Table of Contents

Author’s Disclaimer

Epigraphs

The Wall Street Tantric Massage & The Nude Finnish Massage

From Massage to Massage Boom Boom

No-Pants Massages in America

How a Masseuse May Save Your Life

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

The Guantanamoing of Penises and Nipples

The Zen of Balls and Masculine Maintenance

In Praise of Pretended Anatomical Innocence

Random Notes on the Massage Universe

Masseuses: Goddesses and Associate Wives?

Why I Prefer a Woman Massage Therapist

Summing Up: Why Massage is Booming

Other Books By P.C. Anders

Author’s Disclaimer

Though this book is mostly true, the names of places and persons have been fictionalized to protect identities.

I write as a world citizen, one who has moved beyond racial and national categories: a non-partisan member and observer of the human race. My concerns are humanistic, and my loyalty only to literature, to humanity, and to the truth (yes, fiction can sometimes be truer than pedestrian truth).

Also, this book assumes a male consumer’s viewpoint, because it would be presumptuous of me to pretend to speak for women. A similar book from a woman’s viewpoint is equally needed and I would support such a book with all my heart. In this book, the word masseuse inclusively embraces all givers of massages, trained or untrained.

Also, the book includes moments of racy wordplay and tongue-in-cheek humor of the kind indulged in by writers like George Carlin and James Joyce; hence, this book may be unsuitable for excessively literal, politically correct, or prudish readers.

Epigraphs

What the boy had felt was something pure . . . the simple desire to reach out and touch someone, to be held lovingly in someone’s arms. Tenderness is a deeper instinct than seduction, which is why it is so difficult to give up hope.

—Michel Houellebecq, Elementary Particles.

Nature knows no indecencies. Man invents them.

—Mark Twain.

The Wall Street Tantric Massage and the Nude Finnish Pussycat

Manhattan, the capital of the world, a city boasting of the top talents in every field, from neurosurgery to bondage, and from literature to gastronomy, is also home to some amazing pretenders and snake oil salesmen (a recent president comes to mind), including world class con men and women, some of whom pass themselves off as spiritual leaders and healers and advertise their incredible offerings to the credulous in The Whole Life Times or some such organ.

Ah, yes.  It is an age in which any two-bit twerp who recently operated a hot dog stand in a corn-pone town thinks that by holding his or her hands in the air above some pathetic sucker and saying Breathe deeply or Feel the spirit! he is transformed into a healer.  A healer, and therefore a (Cabinet) Minister of Universal Energy who must be paid with reverence and universally acceptable hard cash (they don't mind if you go easy on the reverence, but the hard cash is non-negotiable).  And everyone who comes to these healers is, by definition, sick, guilty, inferior, a retard who must be condescended to and told things like, You may keep your underwear on (and sometimes, you may keep your radiation-proof body suit on).

But one adventurous afternoon in the late Nineties, I boarded a train to Penn Station and then the subway to Wall Street and emerged into a street that was a canyon in the skyscraper section of downtown New York, and not far from the Twin Towers. I entered one of these skyscrapers, and went in for an experience that had all the hallmarks of the good old-fashioned American sucker story. And yet, it had enough novelty, mystery, open-mindedness, and excitement for me as to justify at least a portion of the hundred bucks I shelled out.

It was a Tantric Massage administered by a Russian woman and man, between 29 and 35, both looking immensely sharp, like KGB double agents, this being a time when post-Soviet Union Russians had invaded New York City and were buying up real estate, spas, and hair salons. The setting: a Wall Street office room decorated with the pictures of an Indian guru facing a Christian Cross, these antithetical artifacts surrounded by candles and a chalice, incense sticks spreading a sandalwood perfume through the room’s heated air. After undressing behind a partition, I was instructed to enter the room naked, which I did, preceded by my full-mast flagpole, watched with considerable professional interest by two pairs of eyes. As directed, I lay down on a mattress spread on the floor, taking care not to injure my erection, and was subjected to a synchronized massage by a pair of female hands on my left side and a pair of male hands on my right.  My male chauvinist, female-hungry consciousness tried to concentrate on the soft female half of the touch (and the fact that she, Yippie!, briefly brushed her finger against my pee-pee). The so-called tantric massage ended with a prostate massage—a massage of dick, balls, and perineum simultaneously—which, finally, made me ejaculate in full view, as the reverend Tantrics had desired (and why would I wish to disappoint them?). It was my most spiritual and public coming ever (a coming out?), and I wonder now if there was a secret camera recording these proceedings for history or for prying eyes—and if so, if I could buy the rights to the film.

Anyway, once I had cleaned myself up and dressed up, I was allowed to ask questions of The Master:  I could say the name of a woman, and I would be told what kind of sexual relations I could expect with her.  Having just had an emission, thanks mainly to the woman’s probing fingers, I was a little dazed; my memory cells were out in the streets partying and celebrating my good luck.

When you think about it (and I mustn't be too unkind, for I don't quite know the relative percentages of their actual knowledge and charlatanry), it was hilarious: the author of a well-known, sexually liberated book receiving sex advice from a pair of charlatans. Still, I didn't want to miss out on some fun, especially as I had paid for it, and as a writer has a certain license in these things. He can pretend and probe and go with the flow, because ultimately he'll turn every damn thing, every big shit and small, into literary material.

I said, Luba.

Oh, a Russian girl?  Well, she hasn't had much good sex in her life, so what she needs is not sensitivity, but hard fucking.  A good, strong dick.  She could potentially really go for you.

Pleased with the buried compliment, I tried another woman: Sheila.

Sheila, she is good, but she has another man that she might be interested in.

What about my sexual future?

You will reach your peak in 2-3 years.  Then you will have lots of women and pleasure.  At 51, you will start losing interest in physical sex; women will come to you more for play and fun than for your fucking, the man guru said. The man was doing all the talking.

Am I average or above average? I asked. (I didn’t bother asking if I was below average, no point wasting words.)

You are well above average.  And if you only do the exercises contracting your prostate without tensing your buttocks and legs, you'll be able to control the length of your erection tremendously.

He continued: "Sex is very important to you.  You think a lot about it.  It is okay to think