The Search for a Happy Ending Part 2

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Part V: Nana Strikes Back

I was visiting an Asian Massage Parlor in NYC, doing some "undercover" journalism. My quest was to find that elusive service known as the "Happy Ending." In the first part of my report, I was led to a "shower room" by a Korean woman named Nana, who asked me to take off all my clothes.

Now naked, I walk into the shower room, but oddly enough there isn’t a shower at all! I see a padded table with a drain on the floor and a water hose which empties into a large bucket. The Jew inside me is telling me to run. Jews, shower, Nana, this is getting to be too much! I know how this story ended in 1945, but if I can just get past the insecurity embedded into my Shylock people, I might be able to join the Happy Ending Club.

I get back to thinking rationally, and by rationally I mean wondering in which orifice that hose will end up. A quick grab of my towel, some giggling, and she tells me “face-a down”, which I gladly oblige as I lay down on the bed. Nana pulls a loofah out of the pail and starts to suds me up from neck to feet. She makes it a point to spend extra time cleaning my jellyring, for which I am appreciative, but apprehensive. Then I heard the sweet sound I was waiting for: “Turnna Ovveerrr.”

I got a little excited here, partly because I didn’t know what to expect, and partly because someone who couldn’t string together a sentence was inches away from my pee-pee. She started at the chest, and the suds were immediately soaked up into the forest, to which she giggled and I let out a girly “tee-hee.” Then she got lower, avoiding the obvious glaring member, limp but impressive, staring her right in the face. She navigated up through the thick vegetation from my leg hair to my inner thigh.

Then, without hesitation: Jackpot! Nana gets to work cleaning the money spot, giggling and repeating the ever-important conversation which would be a staple of the rest of the afternoon: “Ohhhhhhh Nana like, ooooooohhh Nana like, iss soo nice, Nana liike.” Although in my head, I am thinking of my own grandmother, who was also called Nana, I realize this particular Nana enjoys cleaning my wang, and is taking to it as if polishing a Jaguar for the Javitz Center Auto Show. I remember fondly when I was young, Nana yelling at me for diving off the two-foot deep rail at the Century Village community pool. I think I will replace that memory with this Nana hobbing my nob.

If I weren’t so nervous, I probably could have had a happy ending right then and there, but cooler heads prevailed and she sprinkled me with some water and rinsed me off, figuring, even if we part company now this was pretty sweet. She towels me down, robes me up, grabs my hand and takes me back down the hall further to one of the massage rooms.

Stay tuned for Part VI: The Return of Mung.