Three days after being dumped by the man I love, I stride up to the foreboding iron gate outside my friend Caitlin K Roberts’ apartment. I’m right on time for my four-handed erotic massage.
For many, this would be a blissful proposition – and it would be for me, too, if I wasn’t utterly gutted this week. Anxieties keep intruding on my excitement: what if I can’t stop thinking about my ex during the massage? What if receiving touch makes me panic? What if I burst into tears on the massage table?
With a firm shake of my head, I shore up my resolve, open the gate, and walk into the building. Here we go.
Listen: Is the first date okay? (Post continues.)
For the past few months, I’ve been following Caitlin’s adventures in erotic touch via her Facebook page. She’s travelled to the far reaches of the US and Canada to study therapeutic modalities of sexual touch. One such modality is sexological bodywork – also known as somatic sex education or simply “SexBod” – in which the client receives therapeutic and erotic touch as treatment for a wide range of sexual woes, from premature ejaculation to pelvic pain to sexual trauma.
Shortly after completing her training, Caitlin announced on Facebook that a fellow practitioner, Cosmo Meens, was coming to town for a bit, and that the two of them would be offering erotic massage together. These would be based in the framework of SexBod, but closer to the sexy side of the spectrum than the therapeutic one. The goal would be for the client to feel good, not for them to work through traumas or other issues, since that kind of work requires more than one session.
Receiving an erotic massage has been on my bucket list (or “fuck-it list,” if you prefer) for as long as I can remember, so I messaged Caitlin right away to book a session. After discussing whether it would be weird for her to administer a massage to a friend (“I trust in your professionality and personal autonomy enough that I think it would be totally fine,” she told me), we agreed on a price, date, and time. And so the anticipation began.
Today, when I arrive at Caitlin’s apartment, she greets me with a warm hug and introduces me to her co-practitioner, Cosmo. They make a well-balanced pair: Caitlin’s a petite pixie whose face breaks into a radiant grin at the slightest provocation, and Cosmo is a tall, strong guy with a big presence and a formidable moustache. We chat a bit and I feel immediately at ease.