Comfort Zone

I’ve been meaning to talk about being a massage therapist in a group of massage therapists, and how that translates to an experience of quick and natural intimacy with each other, quite frequently: It’s not unusual to be in the middle of a conversation while someone rubs your lower back or kneads your thigh. The mere mention of a long day at the office, and a classmate is holding my hand, working the kinks out of my palm, thumb and wrist.

It’s great to be in an environment where touch is offered easily and accepted whole-heartedly, without any sort of innuendo or ulterior motive attached ("Here, honey, I'll give you a massage." "Oh, thank you, that feels great." I am soooo gonna get laid).

But perhaps you’ve become a little too comfortable with your classmates when it takes you a couple of minutes to realize that the guy nonchalantly resting his hand on your ass during the lecture should maybe… remove it. And then later when the exact same scenario happens again. With the other guy in the group.

After a few hours of beating and shaking and jostling the hell out of our classmates' bodies (Sports Massage rocks), we had all become practice blobs to each other, tissue and muscle without body shape or self-consciousness, and a fine place to rest a hand or two (apparently). I’m just glad they don’t serve refreshments in class- probably wouldn’t have appreciated someone setting their drink on my ass. At least, not without a coaster.

2 comment:

Anonymous The Huzzard.. said...

I don't know if people "resting" thier hands on your ass is within MY comfort zone....

6:45 AM  
Anonymous Mighty Q said...

And here I thought I was the one in the relationship that doesn't like to share...


9:59 AM  

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