Author

Taylor - page 2

Taylor has 18 articles published.

Happy Ending Erotic Massage

in Sports by

It had been a shock, though it shouldn’t have been. He was fifteen, after all, and healthy, and it was utterly ridiculous that I had not anticipated acquiring this knowledge at some point. Some of it had to do with the way I found out, walking in on him, already halfway across his room before I looked up and realized why he was frozen, with a pained, desperate look in his eyes, hunched over as if his stomach pained him. But, even though I am no innocent and know men have their desires and the various ways they tend to them, I somehow had forgotten to notice that my sweet boy was grown up. Almost a man himself.
And the rest of the shock had to do with how I had responded, after the initial full slam of mortified embarrassment. How I had tried to make it seem perfectly normal as I gathered up the clothes I had dropped in my haste to avert my eyes. How once that frantic need to not embarrass my son or give away that I was shocked and dismayed…..how there had been a pulse inside of that fading heat, a pulse that lingered somewhere low in my abdomen and drew my eyes inexorably over to his hands, clutching himself. How I was on the verge of telling him to continue, that it was natural, that I would just finish putting away his shirts and socks and underwear. A very unmotherly desire to see my son masturbate.
It was a heat that I thought I would never experience again, and I wrenched myself from that lingering look, and prayed he had not noticed. I had shut the door with a promise that I would always knock from now on. With a determination to shut away that rush of bewildering desire. And yet, I could not shut it out. I could not focus on my chores. My face buzzed intermittently for the next hour as I kept seeing over and over his lanky, young body, entirely nude for some inexplicable reason, his hands covering himself. I kept imagining what would have happened if I had told him to continue. The beginning of that imagination, anyway. I refused to entertain the thought, and jumped away from half formed thoughts, sometimes with a physical turning of my head. I realized he would probably not be coming out of his room tonight.
When I could not shake the thoughts or the increasing restlessness and swooping feelings, like the sensation of that first drop from a rollercoaster, except sweeter…..I retired to my own room, and I played my fingers over my own sex, not with the desultory efficiency that I usually conducted this task every few months or so. I came again and again, feeling as if my entire body was involved in the release. I bit back cries and shuddered and indulged as I had never indulged before. And I could not help wondering if we were masturbating at the same time. I could not stop myself from imagining him just next door, spasming into his hand, spilling onto the carpet. I could not help the immediate, sharp sweet release as I saw him, over and over again, only this time I stayed. Only this time I helped….. I gave in to the thoughts.
Shocking, yes. But, it was only masturbation. It was my head only, and while I apparently could not control myself in this, there was no need to treat him any differently. There would likely be a few weeks of awkward dancing around it, and he would likely begin locking his door, and he probably hated that it had happened at all. No need to bring it up. Force normalcy and don’t talk about it.
I masturbated again this morning though. I was sore from last night’s abuses, but I woke up aching and needful and I could not go through the morning routine of waking him up ten times before dragging him from his bed and making him eat his breakfast before Roger came by to pick him up. Dear Lord, I could not have touched him and felt that spark of immediate possibility. I came as the insistent blaring of his alarm sounded through the thin wall separating our rooms. I came to the surety that, as a strapping young man inundated with hormones and the constant build of testosterone, he would wake up hard. That in his heavy lingering sleep, he would not notice if I simply….brushed it with my fingers. That he would already be coming into my mouth as he woke with a start, and he would not have the presence of mind or the willpower to reject.
Just thoughts.
I washed my hands and poured his cereal and woke him up a dozen times. And he did not look at me, he moved slowly as if he was reluctant, and I hated that last night had happened. I daren’t run my fingers through his hair and kiss his cheek this morning. When Roger walked in, tossing back a Red Bull and full of morning jocularity, he had appraised me with a lingering look that told me all I needed to know about how experienced my son’s best friend was. He became almost flirty as he leaned against the sink and told me I looked very nice today, Miss Davis. And my son had pushed away from the table, pushed between us to dump his bowl in the sink and, still not even glancing at me, hauled Roger to the door, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
I sat for a long time at the table. I experienced the cool prickle of shame on every down beat of the bloom of desire. It had been so long since I had wanted anything sexual, and now….now with a desire stronger than anything else I had ever felt, I wanted to know my son. Intimately, lavishly, and unconcerned with the psychological fuckery. I tried to tell myself it was natural, but I knew deep down that the fact it was my son was a large part of this sudden need.
It became my obsession, this morning. How long had he been jerking off? Did he have a girlfriend? Or, perhaps a boyfriend. My mind flashed onto Roger and his easy, knowing look, but Roger was definitely straight. Did he have a collection of magazines? Except it wouldn’t be magazines, now, would it? Not these days. No, it would be the internet. Porn. What porn did he jerk off to?
That question stayed. And it was easily answered. I turned on his computer, logged into the master account, and pulled up his desktop. I brought up the internet history first. There was a lot. He spent a lot of time on the computer, something I could not stop him from doing. He needed the computer for homework, for his papers and Facebook and whatnot. But his internet history was scrupulously clean. I felt a hard disappointment as I scrolled through the last week. Perhaps he did not search internet pornography. I knew that couldn’t be the case.
So I delved into his folders. I looked for downloaded videos, and finally hit upon them, in an unnamed “New Folder”. I opened the videos, many of them the darkly lit kind of home made videos, amateur porn. They often featured pretty girls, naturally endowed, not shaved, and enjoying themselves. I was happy to see he did not seek out the plastic, over-acted and hard-bright professional videos. He came to reality, and I shifted a little, imagining him playing the videos, right here in the same seat that I was perched on.
When I had forwarded through his smallish collection, I clicked the next folder within, another unnamed folder. Curious why these would have their own separate place – perhaps they were his favorites.
The breathless blush slammed into me again as I saw his dark, lovely eyes looking up at me from the video thumbnail. Enough was visible to see that he was nude – or at least shirtless. There were three videos, and I moved the cursor onto the first one, in a daze. I clicked it.
He was settled on his futon, and I watched as he stared into the camera, pumping his hand up and down over himself, his muscles tensing. I got my first good look at my son’s uncircumcised penis and could not look away. I watched the foreskin slide over and down again, met his eyes as he made himself come for the camera. I did not skip through the video. I watched the entire eight minutes, my mouth watering and my throat dry, the nerves singing over my entire body. And when he came, I felt a gush of warm wetness spill from me, an overwhelming desire, soaking my panties and making me whimper out loud.
I moved as if in a dream, to close that video and start the next. This time he was standing, only his legs and lower half visible as he tugged on himself. The vantage was so that I could imagine kneeling in front of him, my face turned up to watch him pleasure himself over me. Who did he make these videos for? The frightening thought came to me that he was sending them out over the internet for others to watch, for perverts to get off to. Except, here I was, in the privacy of my son’s room, practically passing out from the rush of desire that his young, sweet body was rousing inside of me. I was the pervert.
I accepted it. My hand was already buried between my thighs, and I realized I had been pressing against my wrist and fist, grinding unconsciously against myself. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and stood. I hesitated only a moment before undoing my pants and pushing them, and my underwear down to my bare ankles, settling back into the chair and groaning at the thought that I was likely sitting on dried come. My son’s dried come, against my naked and slick vagina. I shifted deliberately back and forth, the canvas fabric providing enough friction across my engorged labia as I imagined I was re-wetting his spilled semen with my own juices. And I came as he did, without having to touch myself at all.
I glanced to the time at the lower right of the screen. I still had several hours before the high school let out, and I already knew how I would be spending them. I would not get a damn thing done today, but I was beyond caring. I closed the finished video and clicked on the last one, hitting it to full screen and settling back, sliding my fingers into the puffy and swollen lips of my vagina, revelling in the delicious slickness.
He was standing again, wearing tight briefs, and he was hard. He grabbed himself for the camera, squeezing through the fabric and pushing down on himself. He was certainly beautifully endowed. I was beyond wondering why he was filming himself masturbate, only waiting breathlessly for him to really start, sliding my fingers over down to my clenching, grasping opening. Come on, baby, I thought wildly. Show me. Take off your underwear. It’s okay.
I came to the thought of saying this to him in real life. He did not remove his underwear. He sat down onto the futon, and I realized he had a tshirt on as well. This was a relatively recent video, as his hair had begun growing back from the last time he buzzed it off. I guessed it was only a few weeks old.
In the video he glanced up, listening, searching with his eyes, pausing. Then he looked back at the camera before picking something up….A pair of black panties. I paused, a cooling sweeping over me. For just a moment I wondered whose they were, but I knew very well. Or, I thought I knew. I was wearing a pair just like them, part of a three pack. And I only had two pairs left from that pack. My mouth went entirely dry as he folded the fabric over and around until he was staring at the gusset. He brought my panties up to his face and ran his nose along the soiled gusset, and a sound – like a gasp and a whimper – burst from between my lips. I couldn’t move as I watched him pull in several deep sniffs. I saw his sensuous lips part and his tongue flicked out, lapping at the fabric, and suddenly I was masturbating furiously, crying out with utter abandon as I watched my son savour the scent and flavour of ME.
I came three times in rapid succession, even as my mind told me over and over – this means nothing, he just wanted underwear, mine were convenient, OH GOD WHY CAN’T I STOP COMING. I pulled my hand away and squeezed my thighs together, almost crying, gasping breathlessly. On the screen, my sweet boy suddenly put down the panties and removed his shirt. He kept his skin tight briefs on. He picked up the panties again in both hands and buried his whole face in them before letting go with one hand and reaching between his own legs to push and grasp at himself. I watched him close his eyes with an almost heavenly reverence as his pink tongue flashed out again. He drew the panties into his mouth and bit down on them, chewing a little, before going back to sniffing them and licking them as he squeezed himself between is splayed legs.
I watched, my mouth gaping stupidly, breathing harshly over my own too dry tongue as he finally stood again and shucked his own underwear. He sat back and smelled my dirty panties as he began to truly masturbate for the camera. I didn’t know which to look at – his beautiful penis or my panties in his mouth. It was quickly resolved when he draped my black panties over the head of his penis and started to masturbate with the fabric of them.
I was sitting forward now, my face only inches from the screen, and I pushed my own hand between my legs again, briefly thinking I would need to use the hair dryer for a long time to dry his seat before he came home before completely losing myself in the sinfully erotic nature of watching my son masturbate with his mom’s dirty underwear.
He leaned his head back as he slowly drew the fabric up and down, and he spoke the first word he had spoken in any of the videos, in his too manly voice which had deepened three years ago, and seemed so incongruous with his build and his youth.
“Oh, mom,” he said.
I froze again.
“Mom,” he practically whimpered. “That feels so good.”
My fingers were not moving, I was completely still, but suddenly my body convulsed and I came anyway, sobbing out a surprised cry. I watched as he pushed the fabric aside and licked two fingers of his right hand and ran them lightly over his shiny head. “Oh mom, oh please, it feels so good when you lick me….”
My mouth, so dry just moments before, flooded with saliva and I could practically feel his bulging head against my tongue. My fingers were moving of their own accord now, my mind no longer insisting that this was wrong. I could not think, there was no room for thought. He wanted me, he was masturbating to the thought of me me flicking my tongue over his cock, as I had masturbated this morning to that very thought.
I stopped noticing the peaks of orgasm, they were so close together as to seem almost one long orgasm felt in swells and falls. He shifted and turned to lie down along the length of the futon, on his back and continued to masturbate with my panties around the base of his penis, only now he was pumping his hips up and down into the air, slowly, sensuously, barely moving his hand at all, and I imagined him beneath me – something I had purposefully kept out of my head. I imagined myself sitting atop my son and having him pump up into me. I pushed my fingers into my painfully tight opening and came harder than I had ever come before.
All the while, he uttered “mom”, sometimes begging in a strangled whisper, sometimes saying it loudly with an insistent urgency. He picked up the camera and moved it around so that I had a close up view of my panties strangling the base of his hard on. A close up of his head, shiny with precome, a close up of the thin stretched foreskin enveloping and releasing the tip.
It was when he moaned, “Oh, mom, your pussy feels so good,” that I was reminded of the fact that I was masturbating to my son. Instead of falling from the edge of arousal, though, it only pushed me harder. I whispered his name out loud, testing it on my tongue, and was blinded by another sweeping orgasm. I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, imagining my sweet boy filling me, spreading my lips with his width, begging me….
“Mom, I’m going to come,” he cried out. “Oh mom, can I come inside of you?”
My fantasies had never gone so far. I ground down onto my knuckles and gripped the edge of his desk with my other hand and said, “Yes, baby, come inside of me.”
He spurted, ropes of thick come fountaining into the air and I was sobbing out his name, and I came too, suddenly wanting nothing more than to actually feel him come deep inside of me, to have him drip from me, to look into his eyes – which were not visible from this point of view – as he cried out for his mom, and clutched at me.
The aftermath of that wild abandon was worse, in a way. I watched the screen as the portion of his abdomen that was visible heaved slowly up and down, wishing he would move the camera so I could see his expression. Was he disturbed? Euphoric? Was this a fantasy he regularly indulged in, or a once off? He had come harder in this than in the less thematic videos, but, did that mean anything? I could see a glob of white come quivering on the black fabric of my panties, still wrapped around his slowly softening penis, and I felt a strong urge to suck that up into my mouth and mash it with my tongue, consume it with a slow swallow.
He did not move the camera angle. One moment I was hanging on the verge of desire – a desire that somehow entwined with a sudden surge of love for my precious boy – and the next second, the screen went dark, the video was over.
I slowly extricated my aching fingers, clenching them and loosening to relieve the ache, feeling a little numb, perhaps in a state of higher shock than last night’s initial awakening. I tried to feel chagrin, or shame, or disgust…. Maybe that would come later.
It hasn’t yet. And I have downloaded that video for myself. It is enough, for now. It is enough to know that at least once, my beautiful boy came to me – specifically me. To the smell and taste of me, to the thought of burying himself in me. That is enough.
[LATER]
Tonight something happened that I will never forget, for as long as I live. As I type this, feeling loose and sated and trapped in a state of surreal wonder and almost giddy contentment, my son is sleeping in my bed. The sheet is draped over his naked body, rising over the contours of his chest and legs. One arm is curled over his head, his hand in a loose fist, his sweet mouth open as he breathes in long breaths of sleep. He looks so young and strong, so vital. His lips move every once in a while, and I hear him sigh that one word that makes my heart trill; “Mom….”
The last two weeks have been full of a strange duality. The day he came home after I found his home videos, I realized that something inside of me had been broken open to the point that it couldn’t be repaired. I followed through with our routine, knowing my role from years and years of doing so with him, but there was a presence inside of me – a presence that was wet and dark and pulsing, a presence that watched my son avidly as he sat at the kitchen table, one hand buried in his lengthening hair as he slumped over his homework. This …. awareness focused deeply on his mouth as he lifted the spoonful of spaghettios; it trembled with need as his lips closed over the metal and I watched him swallow the bite. He looked up at one point and I almost flinched away from his gaze, certain that he would see my lust in the clear bright study of my eyes, the high colour on my cheeks, the throbbing fullness of my own lips. Instead, I smiled at him and told him I loved him, and he didn’t smile back – our encounter had happened just the night before, after all – but he blushed sweetly, a burning blush that seemed to travel slowly down from his cheeks to his neck, under the collar of his t-shirt. And I was strongly reminded of him coming to the thought of me.
After he was finished with his schoolwork and had disappeared into his room, I picked up his empty bowl and spoon and took it to the sink. A sudden urge overtook me and I put his used spoon in my mouth, curving my tongue along the dip of it, shuddering with pleasure at the thought of tasting his saliva. I found myself doing many odd things like that over the next two weeks. Rummaging through his dirty clothes and savouring the smell of him. When he showered, I would retire to my room and masturbate furiously as the sound of the running water thrummed through the house, through me, and I imagined him tugging at himself in the shower, imagined walking into the bathroom and offering my assistance. Imagined fucking my son. It was a darkly lit two weeks, and I believe I kept my composure through it, though I slipped twice.
The first time was last weekend. Some of the embarrassment and tension had slipped away and we had fallen back into our normal pattern of interaction; I was Mom, he was my exasperating 15 year old son. The duality was still there, watching him with lust, but it was easier to keep it in the back of my mind. I had come to the realization that no matter how badly I wanted to taste him and feel his bare skin against mine, it would not happen. And with that came a sort of peace from my obsession, and I could resume life with an easier step.
On Saturday morning, he asked if he could spend the day with Robert; they were planning to go up to the skate park and be moody and cool. I told him I didn’t mind as long as he left time to mow the lawn – it was supposed to rain all next week starting on Sunday. He agreed and we went about our separate mornings; I had a few errands to run, some bills to pay. I got back home at noon and he was already gone. I put away the two bags of groceries and lowered the blinds in the house and went to my computer – located in the common room – and opened up my hidden folder. I spent a good hour masturbating to my son’s singular video, still surprised at how sudden and intense the arousal was after two weeks. My obsessive watching and imagining had not dulled the spark and desire. After that hour I planned to shower….but instead I pulled my panties back up and shifted around, wetting them. I went about the rest of my daily duties in a kind of feverish state, alternately feeling extremely aroused by what I was half planning, and somewhat ashamed.
When my son got home right before sunset, he went right out to mow the lawn. He came in reeking of grass and fresh sweat and asked what was for dinner; I told him waffles, with a smile. He smiled back at me, and said he was going to take a shower.
“Alright, baby. Just leave your clothes outside the door; I’ll throw them in the wash with mine.” He waved a hand in acknowledgment as he turned away. I waited, my body buzzing with a dangerous feeling; elation and that strange roller-coaster fall sensation. When the shower started up, I stripped quickly, grasping my still-damp panties in one hand and went to the bathroom door where his jeans and t-shirt and boxers were crumpled right outside. I bent to pick them up, wholly intent on this plan, when I realized the door was ajar.
I am not entirely naiive. The fact that my 15 year old son had left the bathroom door slightly open seemed a gross transgression, far outside the norm. If I had been a boy his age, I would have closed that door tight and thrown the lock. I stayed there for a moment, naked, staring at the band of light and the steam curling lazily from the crack, and I leaned forward just a little to try to see him, wondering if he had left the door open in an absent hurry or if it was somehow an invitation to me. That last part was ridiculous. I shook myself and stood, my inner thighs once again slick with arousal, and I almost forgot my plan. I let my panties fall from my fingers, onto the floor between the bathroom door and his room. I hoped he would assume they had been dropped as I carried the load to the wash. I hoped he would ignore them….no. I hoped he would take them and pick them up and use them, perhaps in a new video. I threw on a thin, sky blue camisole and a pair of cotton shorts. Saturday dinners are usually very casual affairs.
That night as I made my way to the laundry room, the panties were gone from the hallway.
The second time I slipped was when he came home with his mid term report card, on Monday. He had gotten mostly B’s, one A, and a C. We were standing in the kitchen together as he slung his back pack off his shoulder and handed the envelope to me, smiling with an earnest pride that made my heart sing. I looked at his grades and shouted, “Oh my God! Congratulations!” He ducked his head, smiling even more and blushing. I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug, full of pride for him. He seemed to freeze as I squeezed him, praising him for bringing his math and geography grade up and managing an A….I felt him try to pull back a little and all of a sudden that other part of me, the dark and lustful part realized why.
I should have let him go. Instead I pressed in closer, no longer talking, but needing to feel him against the length of my body. He shifted his hips back but I held him, and he let out a little sound, like a breathless “whoof” next to my ear as my thigh brushed his very obvious erection. Still I held on, my heart racing, my blood risen to the surface of my skin and singing, my muscles tight.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said again, though now my voice was a whisper. I turned my head slightly so that my mouth was almost brushing his ear, so that his hair moved in the breath of my whisper. I drew back a little and planted a lingering kiss on his cheek, near the corner of his mouth, wanting so badly slide my lips onto his, to reach down and grasp the belt loop of his jeans and tug him forward against me. I hung on the brink of that action for more than a second, quivering, every part of my body needing me to do this one thing.
Of course, I didn’t. I let him go and managed to smile at him. His entire face was a bit pale, his dark eyes wide and almost frightened looking. As I stepped away he hunched forward a little and tugged the hem of his shirt down, trying to do so casually. My eyes fell to the motion of his hands and he spun away, going to his backpack and picking it up, walking a bit stiffly. “I have a report to write,” he mumbled, and he disappeared into his room, shutting the door all the way. I waited, but I did not hear the latch of the lock. And again, I thought to myself, that was very strange behaviour for a boy unwilling to have his mother walk in on him. I lowered myself into the kitchen chair and sat there, staring at the report card, wanting to feel some sort of misery at what I had done, what I had almost done. But all I could do was strain my hearing, trying in vain to hear whether he was masturbating.
Then, today happened. Or, I suppose, now it was yesterday; I can see on my clock that it is twelve minutes past midnight. Wednesday. He came home from school with a permission slip for me to sign. He handed it to me without a word and went to refrigerator for a soda. I looked down and saw that the school was asking parental permission for my son to attend an in-school sexual education seminar. Because he was under 16, they needed my signature. The option for kids who did not have permission was to sit in the cafeteria and watch a nature show documentary. I was sitting at the kitchen table, and I looked up to see that my son was blushing hard and studiously examining his shoes.
I picked up my pen to sign; of course sex ed is important, but before I touched pen to paper I looked up at him again. We had had a version of “the talk” several years ago, but he had still been a boy then. I knew now how much he’d grown.
“Are you still a virgin?” I asked gently. I told myself it was responsible of me to ask, the right thing to do. After all, I was his mother. But no, that was not the only reason. Of course it wasn’t. I was very interested in what he had to say.
He flushed even darker and stared at me, taking a quick swig of his soda and clearing his throat. “Um, yeah?” he said, in his slightly sarcastic voice. His, “what’s it to you?” voice. I nodded and looked down at the permission slip, again not seeing the school document. I felt as if I couldn’t quite catch my breath, and my palms were suddenly slick with sweat. I dropped the pen and wiped them on my thighs beneath the table. I cleared my throat then.
Without looking up I said, in as casual a voice as I could, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” I did look up then, and he wore a pained expression. “If you have any questions, or anything, if you need condoms or -” a blowjob,I thought wildly, “-anything, you can come to me. No judgment.”
“Jeez, mom,” he said, refusing to look at me. I felt an immediate rush of chagrin. I hadn’t meant to embarrass him, and had I taken it too far? I wiped my palms again and picked up the pen once more.
“I mean,” he said. I looked up and he had stepped closer to the table, still looking pained but suddenly very sweet and open. “Thanks,” he said.
I signed the paper and handed it to him with a flourish, trying on a teasing grin. “Have fun,” I said.
“Yeah, right.” He stuffed the paper into the front portion of his backpack and zipped it up. We stayed like that for a very long, awkward moment. I could feel myself sweating heavily now, my armpits slick with it, my blood racing. It was that same feverish feeling that had sat upon me when I was planning to leave freshly soiled panties for my son to find. I kept trying to push the thought, the frantic thought of him being a virgin, of him having never experienced that. How much had he experienced? It wasn’t my business. I couldn’t help wondering.

Happy Ending Erotic Massage

I stood up suddenly, making my son raise his eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, needing to masturbate, to assuage this ravenous need, this unasked question from between us. Do you want me? I clenched my teeth together and walked quickly to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it for a moment, my heart still beating very fast, feeling sweaty and feverish. Do you want me to take your virginity?
I stripped quickly, dropping my clothes where I stood, and turned the shower on hot, as hot as I could stand it. I stepped in and leaned against the cold tiles, slipping my hand between my legs and closing my eyes, imagining him putting his hand there. Imagined directing him on how to make me come.
I came several times, to the point that my legs felt like jelly, but I could not shake the feverish feeling. I eventually took a perfunctory shower – how long had I been in there? – and twisted it off with a final, savage yank. The water stopped. I opened the curtain….and realized there was no towel.
I looked at the untidy pile of my clothes on the floor, and at the small hand towel hanging by the sink. I looked at the door. In a voice too soft to be heard, I called my son’s name. I was starting to sweat again, as I dripped on the bath mat. Just having called his name was enough to set me spiralling deeper into the immense need, and I closed my eyes. No, it was fine, I would dry off with my pants as best I could, maybe I could manage to wrap them around…..
“Mom? Did you call me?”
My heart slammed up a notch. I took a step towards the door. How had he heard me? Unless he had been standing right there.
“Mom?”
I swallowed several times, my throat dry. “I …” my voice cracked and I tried again. Jesus, he had to have been right outside the door to have heard my tiny call. “Could you get me a towel, honey?”
Silence for a few excruciating heart beats. “Yeah,” he called back.
I waited on the cusp for what seemed an eternity, alternately shivering and sweating. I’d need another shower, and I might need to think about sending him to stay at my brother’s house for a while. This wasn’t going to work out, I needed to realign my thoughts. I was his mother for fuck’s sake.
The knob turned and his arm appeared, holding a towel. I stared at it, unable to move.
The door opened further and he stepped in and froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights, stunned and frozen in place as he saw me standing there. His eyes raked me from top to bottom and he flushed bright red, and I closed my eyes, trembling a little, biting back the rising sigh caught in my throat. When I looked again, he was still there, still with his arm out, the towel clutched in his white knuckled fist, his eyes locked on me, on the dark shadow between my legs. I reached out and took the towel from him.
“Thank you,” I said, in a voice that was more like a whisper. He nodded rapidly and felt clumsily for the door. I drew the towel against me, still shivering now but with a thrilling and dangerous anticipation. I did not wrap it around me, just held it between my breasts, waiting for my son to leave, or stay. I didn’t know what. I was close enough that I could reach out and touch his chest, if I had the ability to move.
His eyes finally travelled up to mine, and he looked struck dumb. His quest for the door had stopped.
I licked my lips and tore my eyes from him, looking at that door. “Were you outside the door?” I asked. The words just spilled from my mouth without conscious thought. My son turned an even darker shade of red.
“I was waiting to take a shower, um, and I thought you were….I had to pee,” he finished. I looked down at him and he immediately covered himself, crossing his hands in a pitiful attempt at casualness.
I swallowed again. “Don’t let me hold you up,” I said, slowly gathering the corner of of the towel and pulling it around myself, flashing my body one more time, affecting a nonchalant manner that was only surface deep. Inside I was a taut wire, a gleaming steel sheaf of nerves and muscles. I could feel the last two weeks of need bursting within me as I tucked the towel under my arms and gestured towards the toilet, the shower. I knew he was hard, and I knew that he wanted me. Every time his desperately wandering eyes settled on me, they lingered, and oh, yes. He was hard. Suddenly none of my reasons for keeping this secret to myself mattered. He wanted me, he was desperate for me, and in a mingling of sexual need and motherly devotion, I wanted to ease his agony.
“Go on, I just need to brush my teeth and hair. Don’t mind me.” I stepped around him to the sink and started the water running. I looked up from under my eyebrows, watching him in the reflection of the mirror. He did not go to the toilet, he did not even move. But his eyes were on me all the same, his mouth open.
I began brushing my teeth, bending over the sink and thrusting my hips back to spit the thick white paste from my mouth, shifting my stance. In the mirror, he was staring at my ass, and I thought I saw his hands move a little. A small press into his clothed crotch. I felt the need strum higher in me and leaned further to spit again and rinse my mouth, bending at the waist and feeling the towel ride up high over the backs of my thighs. I could feel myself pulsing and aching down there, and when I stood and turned, my son froze again.
“If you need to shower, please, go on. I left enough hot water.” I paused and lifted an eyebrow. I reached out to touch his face and saw his breath hitch. “Are you alright, honey?”
He pulled away from my hand, his eyes slipping closed for the briefest moment. “I’m just waiting for you to….”
“Go?” I finished for him. “Suit yourself. I’ll be a few minutes more, I just need to put on lotion after I brush my hair. If you are embarrassed, don’t be. I assure you I’ve seen you naked before.” I stepped a little closer and put my hand on his taut forearm, curling my fingers lightly around his chorded wrist. I looked up at him from under my lashes. “There are no secrets, between us.”
He stared into my eyes, his lips moving, forming words he could not manage. I smiled and took my hand away, reaching for my brush. “Don’t worry about me. Just, you know, do your thing.”
He looked too incapable of thought to realize I could easily brush my hair and put on lotion in my own room. I started brushing, still watching him, a small voice inside asking me what I was doing. I ignored it.
My son turned so that he was facing away, towards the door, and he pulled his shirt off over his head in one quick movement.
My own breath caught as I stared at his back, young and sinewy with the muscles of youth. He kicked off his shoes and pushed down his pants, but not his boxers, stepping out of them. He glanced back at me over his shoulder and I realized I’d stopped brushing my hair. I set to it again, still keeping my eyes on him.
He turned on the shower without removing his boxers, still facing away from me. For the briefest instant I could see the tent he made with his hard cock pressing against the fabric, and another deep pulse of need flared within me. He was so close, in real life, standing there almost naked and so aroused that he couldn’t even move properly. I watched his shoulders tense, and then he shoved off his boxers and jumped into the shower, drawing the curtain closed….and then letting it fall back. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he turned to face me, the water flattening his hair to his head. He looked at me with pleading eyes, and he slowly reached down and grabbed himself, gripping his impossibly hard erection, the foreskin slipping back a little to reveal his shiny wet head.
I just as slowly set my brush down and looked back into his desperate eyes.
“Mom,” he said, and I didn’t exactly hear him, though I could see his lips forming that word. An electric jolt of powerful energy surged through me and I felt my wetness oozing warmly down my thighs. “Please,” he said, a little louder. “Please…..”
I didn’t make him finish the plea. I dropped my towel and stepped forward, into the shower with him, my eyes still locked on his. A look of gratitude swept into his eyes.
Do you want me? My mind seemed to breathe the question. But I knew the answer, and did not need to ask it. I moved close to him, so that his knuckles grazed my thigh as he gripped himself. I lifted my hands to his face, and the moment my fingers touched him he seemed to sag, his eyes fluttering, a moan escaping his lips. I waited for him to focus on me again, needing to be sure, though I already was. I felt as if I would faint, or float upwards into the rising steam. I had never wanted something more than this, and I could hardly believe it was happening.
His eyes focused on mine, still pleading, his pupils so dilated I could barely see the rich dark brown of his irises. I tilted my face and stretched my neck out and planted the softest kiss upon his lips, feeling my love for this sweet boy and my lust for him expanding as I brushed my lips across his. I had expected a spark, or a bolt of damning lightning. Instead, the sweetest chord of desire bloomed from that joining and seemed to travel over me with a gentle, rising heat. This was right.
This was right.
I wanted nothing more than to bury my hands in his wet hair and pull him into a lover’s embrace, but I remembered what he had said earlier. He was still a virgin, and I had no way of knowing how far he had gone before with a girl. I released him from my hands and lips with a sigh and opened my eyes to see him, less than an inch away, his own eyes closed, his brow furrowed deeply. After a second he let out a little whimper and I stepped back half a step. Waiting.
He opened his eyes and tried to speak, but no sound came out.
“Let me wash you,” I said, reaching around him for the scrubby thing. I poured liquid soap onto the rough netting and clapped the lid shut. I started rubbing the soap into the scrubby, working out a rich lather, staring down at the suds, almost hypnotized, hanging on the brink, my mind a clamouring blankness. I found that I, too was having difficulty speaking. I reached out and gripped his shoulder, turning him towards the shower head. I pressed the scrubby thing to his back and began, making slow, widening circles with the soap from one shoulder to the other, and down across his flesh. His shoulder blades and muscles flexed and as I worked the soap into his skin, he put a hand out to brace against the tiles. His other hand was still in front, holding himself, though his arm did not flex with movement.
I turned him back to me and we stood there as the spray washed the soap down his legs, pooling around our feet and swirling to the drain. I poured more soap on and pressed the scrubby against his chest, watching him tremble a little. I ran it along his arms and over his flat stomach. He still held onto himself, and the further down that I moved along his abdomen, the more he shook. His eyes were on me, wide and almost fearful, but there was a hunger in the way he watched me. I crested the roller coaster and dropped every time I saw that almost possessive need. He was leaning towards me unconsciously, and I rested my free hand on his chest to keep him from falling forward.
A moan escaped his lips as I moved the scrubby from his upper pelvis to the left, washing his thigh. I wanted to touch him, to replace his hand with mine, but there was an invisible barrier. I came as close as I dared under the flimsy guise of bathing my son. I didn’t even dare to look directly at his erection. A part of it was the knowledge that once we crossed that barrier, nothing could ever be the same between us. Another part was a desire to hold onto this moment of anticipation for as long as possible. I knew he was in a sort of sexual agony; the hand he had wrapped around his penis was almost white from the pressure of his grip, and the tip of his head that was peeking out from his taut foreskin was almost purple. I turned him again to face the spray and as he let it wash over his soapy body, I gathered another pool of soap onto the scrubby.
I reached out a hand and touched his side. He almost flinched, and then his ribs expanded under my fingers in a deep breath.
“Will you wash me?” I asked him.
He stilled, his breath caught in my hand, then he expelled it in a rush. I reached my other hand around him, holding the scrubby out to him face up. Now I was almost embracing him, and as I waited for him to take it from me – I had no doubt that he would – I gave in to one of those sudden, strange desires. I licked his back, between his shoulder blades, barely managing to stifle my own whimpering moan. He tasted faintly of soap, and water spilled over my tongue as I dragged it over his warm skin, but still….I was tasting my son. I shuddered as he arched his back at the strange action and immediately submitted to it, seeming to melt a little, almost pressing back into me. I pulled my tongue back in reluctantly and pressed my lips to him briefly, and sighed, closing my eyes.
I said his name. “Wash me,” I said again, my mouth moving against him.
I felt him take the scrubby from my hand and I immediately turned to show him my back. I waited, knowing he was staring at me, wondering if he would, wondering if he was jerking off behind me now that I couldn’t see him.
I felt him touch my left shoulder very lightly, with his fingers. He wasn’t holding onto himself anymore then. He slid them over my wet skin and gripped me lightly as he pressed the scratchy scrubby to the center of my back. He drew it back and forth, too lightly and quickly. I doubted he was getting any real suds.
“Harder,” I said.
His hand paused, then he pressed the scrubby more firmly and slowed his motion. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feel of his fingers still resting on my shoulder, as if he were holding me in place. When the direction of the scrubby shifted and slowed even more, my entire body pitched into a roiling torrent of focus, shifting to the scrubby’s path. He drew it from the middle of my back to my side, and with excruciating slowness, ran it up over my ribs. He slipped it forward, following the curve of my body and now he was washing my front right side, just under the swell of my breast.
What he was doing could hardly be called washing, anymore. He inched the scrubby up ever so slowly, and I opened my eyes to look down and watch the progress of his soap frothed hand as he dragged the scrubby inexorably upwards. His other hand slipped down from my shoulder and settled on my left side, just under my ribs.
My entire body pulsed with the force of my rapid heartbeat. The scrubby stopped, just at the heavy curve of the bottom of my breast, and my son remained standing like that for what seemed an eternity. I couldn’t move, either, and it truly was agony, wanting to beg him to just touch me, please, cup my breast and feel my nipples and please, oh please….
His other hand crept forward, up my ribs, and he did. I couldn’t stifle the sound I made as his feather light touch caressed the underside of my breast before letting the weight of it rest in his palm. I hunched forward a little as I moaned, and his hand spasmed a little as his thumb brushed my nipple. He dropped the scrubby and brought his other hand up to cup my right breast and he pressed them with his hands, moving them in a slow circular motion, squeezing them. I moaned again and as he massaged my breasts from behind, I felt the tip of his penis gently poke my ass and he moaned too.
“Mom,” he cried out, and he pressed himself harder against me, his erection like a burning steel rod as he humped harder into the soft flesh of my ass cheek and it slipped down to poke at the underside. I couldn’t breathe, my mind inundated with nothing but the roaring desire to have it poke between my legs, along the crack. I shifted my hips and with his next insistent thrust forward he was there. I arched my back, rubbing my ass up and down and the sounds he was making were almost like quiet sobs. I turned suddenly and his hands fell to my waist. I closed the small distance between us so that the tip of his penis pressed into my belly and kissed my son fully on his mouth. He moaned into my mouth as I pressed his lips open with mine and slipped my tongue forward, finding his. He kissed me back with all the eagerness of a 15 year old boy as he continued to hump against my stomach with a mindless instinct.
“Mom,” he murmured against my mouth, his lips sliding over mine as he begged me. “Oh mom, please,” he said.
I moved my questing mouth down to his jaw, his neck, his chest. I lowered myself to my knees, kissing down his stomach and he made that soft sobbing sound again. I placed my hands on his hips and tilted my chin to look up at my beautiful boy, blinking through the spray of the shower. His penis was hard and hot along my neck and he was watching me, his face scored with an agony of pleasure. Still watching, wanting to see him react, I continued to kiss down along the dark, wet hair surrounding the base of his erection.
I couldn’t remember the last time I drew a full breath, I was panting shallowly between each kiss, my mouth flooded with saliva, and strangely I had tears stinging the backs of my eyes. I needed him with a need that could not be denied, and he needed me, too.
I turned my face and slipped my tongue out, curling it around the base of his shaft and a full body tremor ran through me. I pulled away and looked back up at him; he was staring down at me with his mouth slightly open. I moved my right hand in from his hip and closed it around him. I lovingly licked the tip of his penis, and his knees seemed to give out a little, his penis pulsing in my hand and against the back of my tongue. In my mind’s eye, I could see him sitting with my panties around his dick, touching himself and saying, “I love it when you lick me, mom,” and a groan issued forth from my parted lips and my eyes slid closed at the taste of his salt. His slick precome ran along the back of my tongue as I lapped at him slowly and he shuddered and whimpered above me.
I moved my lips over the half exposed head and drew him into my mouth, my heart hammering painfully, saliva spilling out around my tongue as I slid my lips further, my throat pulling him in with the negative pressure of suction as my tongue continued to explore the contours of my son’s penis. I could hear him gasping over the rushing sound of water and as I shifted on my knees I was made aware of how slick I was between my legs. I let his penis rest against the back of my throat for a long moment, breathing heavily through my nose, my eyes still closed, my tongue furling over and around him. Then I drew back and moved my hand with my mouth, revelling in him. I increased the suction in my mouth a little, flicking my tongue over his head with every draw back, not really focusing on him so much as the feel of him in my mouth.
I wasn’t thinking anymore, losing myself in the moment entirely. I don’t remember starting to touch myself, just that suddenly I was coming over my fingers as I wildly sucked and sucked, and when I cried out around his dick his cry followed a moment after.
“Oh God, mom, I’m…I’m going to…”
I enveloped him entirely in my mouth, licking the underside of his shaft with my tongue and clamping down on him to keep him there. Hot spurts of thick come hit the back of my throat and I sputtered a little before sucking harder and swallowing convulsively. He bucked, ramming my throat a little and I felt him grab ahold of my head, his fingers sliding over my wet hair as he sobbed out. His come frothed up a little; there was so much of it. I drank of my son deeply until his shuddering slowed and his fingers loosened. I drew back slowly, feeling drained and floaty. His penis exited my mouth with a slight “pop” and I sat back on my heels, licking my lips and extracting my hand from between my legs. I could feel my face buzzing with a flush born of extreme arousal and a sudden realization of what I had done, the taste of his semen coating my tongue and making me shiver.
I looked up and saw that he was shivering too, and a moment later I realized the water had run cold. I stood up and reached around him to turn off the water, wrapping an arm around him to lead him from the shower. I bent down to pick up the towel, shivering as well. He moved in a dazed way, and I draped the towel over his shoulders, drawing it up to ruffle dry his hair, our cool skin touching. I gathered the ends of the towel under his chin and held them closed as I finally looked into his eyes. He still seemed dazed, but gratitude shone from him, as well as a questioning embarrassment. I pulled him into a tight hug, and after a moment, his arms slipped around me and he buried his face in my neck.
We stood like that for a long few minutes, the sound of the dripping water and his ragged breathing. Eventually his shivering slowed, as well as his breath, and he pulled away a little.
He took the towel from his shoulders and clumsily tried to wrap it around me. My heart swelled to near bursting as he earnestly patted my arms and back dry. My sweet boy, oh, what….No. It didn’t matter. He loved me, I loved him. And now he knew that I, too, wanted him.
“We should get another towel,” I said. He nodded a little. “Do you want to….” I swallowed back a fear of disappointment. “Do you want me to let you go to your room?”
He shook his head, again looking a bit lost and questioning. “No,” he said.
I grabbed my hairbrush and lotion. “Come to mine,” I said.
He followed obediently, walking with the unthinking confidence of youth even in his nudity. He paused at my doorway.
“Sit on the bed,” I said, gesturing with my brush. I set down my items and toweled off completely as his dark eyes watched, following the movement of my hands and the towel. I began to tuck it in place around my breasts, then looked back at him over my shoulder.
Instead, I pulled it away and hung it on the hook on my door, the air conditioned air raising goosebumps along my arms. I went to the bed and sat down a couple feet away from him, as naked as my son, and began brushing my hair. My fingers felt nerveless, and a tense silence bloomed between us. I pressed my legs closed and barely managed to bite back my sigh as I remembered swallowing his come just moments before. My eyes fluttered closed a bit.
“Mom?” he asked, quietly.
I focused on him and smiled. “Yes, baby?”
“Are you….are you mad at me?”
Heat rushed to the surface of my skin and I fumbled over my words a little. “Oh, no, I’m not at all. I….I wanted to do that.”
He swallowed visibly. “You did?”
I nodded, and adopted a natural tone of conversational voice, though my belly trembled a little at the thought of needing to assuage my son that I wanted to fuck him, and desperately. I set down my brush and gooshed lotion onto my hand, rubbing it briskly onto my arms. “I’ve thought about it since I walked in on you a couple weeks ago.” He flushed a bit at this and sat forward a little. His eyes flicked to my breasts, swaying with the motion of my ministrations. I pretended not to notice. “I know it isn’t something that is….done, really, but I, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And now that it’s happened, I don’t regret it at all.” I paused. “Do you?”
He shook his head quickly, droplets of water spraying lightly onto my skin from the still wet ends of his hair. I smiled and reached out to touch him with my fingers, brushing along his shoulder down his arm. “I want to do it again.”
He let out his breath with a painful sigh that ended on a rising groan and put his hands in his lap, hunching further. My mouth flooded with saliva again as I stilled. So soon? God, he was young. Of course.
“You don’t need to hide yourself from me,” I said, grasping his arm and gently pulling his right hand away. He resisted a little then let his hands fall back. Yes, he was hardening again, rising inexorably from his lap, the skin seeming to stretch and tighten. I felt another gush of wetness between my legs and wriggled my hips a little. I licked my lips as I stared down at his lengthening erection, then shook myself. His penis seemed to jerk a little as I wetted my lips. I sought something to distract me, because now all I could think about was having my son’s penis pushing into the warmth that was spreading from my center. I reached for the lotion again.
“Can I…”
I glanced at him, and he was looking so uncertain. Yes, I wanted to say. Whatever you want, yes, please, my darling.
“Can I put your lotion on?”
Every nerve in my body seemed to flare and sing. My lips felt swollen and buzzing, the heat between my legs surged with another wet gush and I almost whimpered. I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded and handed it to him.
“Where?” he asked.
“My, my legs,” I whispered. I felt a rush of shame that I hadn’t shaved in the last week, though my leg hair had always been light and soft.
My son slid down off the bed and knelt before me, pressing a palmful of lotion into his hands. He hesitated, then lightly grasped my ankle and smoothed the cool lotion up my shin, pressing it around my calf and back over my knee. I watched the progress of his hands with a suddenly dry mouth, my mind blank and pulsing, and I felt an ache for him so deeply that it was almost painful. As he raised up on his knees to rub the lotion into my thigh, I could see that he was fully hard again, his penis standing rod like before him. It brushed against my leg, just under my knee, and I convulsed a little, letting my legs fall open. His hands paused, then he slid one lotion slick hand down around my inner thigh and pressed himself against my leg, his gaze flicking up to mine with a sweet apology in his dark eyes. I spread my legs further and his fingers dug a little harder as he massaged his way along my thigh.
He paused again, just at the top of my thigh, where my leg joined at my center, my inner lips glistening with pulsing wetness. His mouth was open and he was breathing hard, staring down at my pussy, unconsciously pressing himself against my leg with tiny thrusts. I waited, unable to breathe, and when he remained too long like that, I shifted my hips forward so his fingers and knuckles brushed against my painfully sensitive folds. I moaned a little and he looked up at me again, his mouth still open. He watched my eyes as he let go of my thigh and lightly caressed me. I shuddered and cried out, arching my back. I felt his tentative fingers bolden and he slipped them between the deliciously slick and puffy folds, stroking me.
“Oh,” I moaned out.
He continued to slide his fingers through and around me, exploring. “Does that feel good, mom?” he whispered.
I opened my eyes and nodded, unable to speak. I opened my legs further as his roving fingers slipped along my center and he found my pulsing, grasping opening. I moaned and he pushed a finger inside slowly.
I gasped out his name and his mindless humping became more insistent, though now he was humping the side of the bed between my legs.
“Mom,” he said, sounding strangled as he pushed his finger slowly in and out of me and I tightened and released over my son’s probing finger. “Mom, can I…..” He was grinding himself against the bed now.
I reached out and grasped his shoulders, pulling him to me and wriggling forward on the bed, kissing him deeply and running my hands through his hair. “Yes,” I said against his eager mouth. “Yes.”
He pulled his hand from me and stood up, stumbling a little in his haste. I shifted back on the bed and pulled him onto it, covering his mouth again as he laid back beside me. I clambered over his thighs and pressed myself against his rock hard member, sliding my wet pussy along its length. His cries were muffled by my wide, devouring mouth, his breath hitting my throat with each desperate expulsion. I moved my hips up a little so that his hard head was pressed against my opening.
With a muted cry of my own I pushed down, slipping around the head of my son’s cock, pushing further until he was fully buried inside of me, and I came. I came so hard that I shuddered, shaking us both with my ecstatic embrace. I wrenched my mouth from his and dug my fingers into his shoulders, still coming, squeezing him tightly with my pussy, not even moving over him, just orgasming because he was in me, he was inside, and it felt so incredibly wrong, and immensely right to have my natural son once again within me.
My shuddering stilled and I realized his fingers were digging into my sides with grasping spasms and his head was thrown back, his throat exposed to me, his face twisted in a look of supremely agonized pleasure. I drew up along him and pressed back down and he sobbed out, “mom,” over and over.

Safe Recovery After Weight Loss Cure – Tips & Tricks

in Recovery by
www.forskolinslimoz.com

As bariatric operation gets to be extra commonplace as a solution to morbid weight problems, a study in Ghent, Belgium investigated the connection concerning shedding huge quantities of pounds and physical Exercise following the medical procedures. Within an endeavor to find out whether Actual physical Exercise increases pursuing medical procedures, Dr. Sanne Stegen and associates, hoped to find responses that might give links to breaking the cycle of weight problems.

The primary emphasis of this 2009 review was investigating the effects of structured training on Actual physical Conditioning next gastric bypass medical procedures. A different aim on the examine was to think about the feasibility of morbidly obese individuals taking part in a power and endurance application for the first four months following surgical procedures.

For morbidly obese patients who find aid of signs or symptoms plus a drive to be a lot more bodily match, surgical intervention does lead to large-scale weight-loss. Fat reduction decreases Body fat mass. Even so, thirty-35% of the full lbs misplaced in the course of the 1st 6 months after gastric bypass surgical procedure encompass fat-absolutely free mass. Additionally, the lack of protein absorption because of the character with the procedure may possibly attribute to less muscle toughness. Could an workout regiment stop lack of muscle power or perhaps help patients get extra power?

How was the research developed?

The examine consisted of two groups. Just one team adopted exercising coaching starting 4 months just after medical procedures, when the opposite group experienced no exercising mandate. Nineteen people met the criteria to hitch the research. Each person was allowed to be both during the training group (organized on-likely physical exercise software) or from the Manage group (surgical intervention only). Each individual group of sufferers underwent a battery of exams and measurements prior to surgical procedures. The measurements were taken all through the recovery process and on the conclusion of the four month study when tests were finished.

What was involved in the exercising system?

The people in the exercising group benefited from assistance by Grasp of Motion and Rehabilitation Sciences. The instruction classes ended up independently supervised thrice weekly as a result of 36 classes. 10 minutes of cardio warm-ups, 25 minutes of power coaching and half-hour of endurance coaching was accomplished in Each individual work out. That has a ten moment interesting down included in, some time for every work out was 75 minutes.

What were being the outcome?

Subsequent 36 weeks following the operation both equally groups had similar fat reduction, BMI and waist measurements. Weight lost by these patients consisted of lbs . shed in Fats mass and fat-absolutely free mass also. Lack of kilos of muscle mass mass in all bariatric bypass sufferers resulted Total to reduced dynamic muscle strength in some spots. Which means that all sufferers grew to become weaker.

Nonetheless, although work out schooling couldn’t fully protect against a reduce in fat-free of charge muscle mass mass, the power deficit of the instruction group was a lot less extraordinary. Even with Fats-totally free muscle mass decline, the education team confirmed dynamic toughness improvements. The take pleasure in schooling also proved that Excess fat-free of charge mass might be preserved. A optimistic indicator in weight reduction because of surgical intervention demonstrates fewer Unwanted fat-free mass misplaced with the surgical course of action than Excess fat-cost-free mass shed by a very small calorie diet.

Dynamic muscle mass strength

The untrained individuals expert reduced dynamic muscle mass energy. Quadricep energy lowered by sixteen%; biceps had been 36% much less powerful while triceps toughness reduced by 39%. Having a look with the instruction team showed distinctive final results. Curiously, the physical exercise program retained biceps power from dropping. Triceps and quads basically amplified in dynamic muscle mass toughness. In addition, hamstrings elevated energy by 27%.

Static muscle mass energy

Both teams dropped energy in static muscles, which was calculated as handgrip strength. Four months following surgical treatment the trained group dropped 7% whilst the untrained group shed greater than double that amount, using an 18% reduction.

Practical capability

Both of those affected person group numbers were analyzed on their capacity to complete everyday tasks. Statistics in purpose ability previous to operation and 4 months just after surgical treatment were being measured. Actions for example sit-to-stand as well as a six-moment walking length were accessed. Both equally teams enhanced walking distance, but just the experienced team elevated figures inside their power to rise to a complete stand from the seated position in 30 seconds.

Precisely what is the sensible software of those success?

The target of acquiring inbound links in between post-operative weightloss and physical Conditioning was answered in the study. When morbidly obese patients experience substantial-scale weight-loss as a result of surgical intervention there are many Gains. Even so, none of them is Bodily fitness. Getting rid of big amounts of fat would not equal Actual physical Exercise. Actually, lack of overall body mass will contain Extra fat and Fats-no cost mass creating a adverse impact on muscle mass toughness.

The results display that an exercise-education program over a postoperative affected individual team prevents muscle mass loss. When morbidly obese individuals missing significant amounts of excess weight and afterwards added an structured perform-out routine into the Restoration course of action, they did see enhancement in Bodily Exercise. The study indicated that adding an workout application could quit the reduce of energy in many muscles. In addition, some clients had been capable to really boost energy in a few muscle groups.

Determined by the results analyze, an endurance and resistance education method need to be inspired over the four months adhering to surgical intervention. Dr. Stegen concludes that for morbidly obese patients, shedding significant amounts of body weight will not enhance Bodily Exercise. But, for people who engage in exercise teaching, it is achievable to be more bodily fit.

* Nutrition plays an important role in Body fat burning and weight-loss. Her article toddler diet regime plan includes little foods. She took 6-8 tiny foods daily for boosting metabolism. Substantial fibrous foods like fruits and veggies have anti-oxidants, which can certainly flush out toxins out of your body. Eco-friendly tea is thought to be certainly one of the simplest weight reduction beverages. She involved lots of salads and fruit juices in her diet plan.

* Cardio exercise sessions including managing, swimming and strolling should be carried out daily for attaining endurance and energy. It is possible to complete these workouts with the comfort and convenience of your property.

* It’s also possible to execute mild bodyweight exercises for instance crunches, dips and squats for shaping your body. It really is advisable to consider good rest in between your sets for a steady recovery. It’s also advisable to consume ten-twelve Eyeglasses of h2o everyday for shedding weight Normally with out weight-loss supplements.

* Coleus forskohlii diet plan system permits One’s body to free excess weight by boosting metabolism Obviously. This diet approach functions being an appetite suppressant forskolin. Its exclusive mood enhancing quality retains you determined as a result of out your dieting session.

* A further helpful diet plan for fat reduction is colon cleanse. This diet system helps you to shed All those stubborn abdominal fats from the physique and in addition rejuvenates your whole digestive system with ease.

Plastic and The Earth

in Marketing Mix by

From mobile phones and PCs to bike head protectors and hospital IV sacks, plastic has shaped society from multiple points of view that make life both less demanding and more secure. Be that as it may, the engineered material likewise has left unsafe engravings on the earth and maybe human wellbeing, as per new compilation of articles composed of researchers from around the globe.

You must have witnessed that grocery shops nowadays don’t utilize plastic bags. They distribute every one of your things in either paper packs or fabric bags. So what happened to the plastic bags that we utilized? There is a reason plastic is gradually vanishing. Indeed, it is a conscious exertion by everybody as plastic is extremely destructive to our livelihood and environment. Obviously, now you would need to know why.

It was the 1950s, when people were looking for something new, cheap and powerful that can change the idea of building technology. Industrial advancement of non-renewable energy sources into a wide exhibit of plastics changed definitions in everything from insulation to mechanics to paint, and plastic is as yet a pervasive part of each building assembly. Tragically, the effects of plastic creation in its many structures are overwhelming in each period of its life cycle. While there is a typical general understanding that plastics have negative ecological affiliations, a closer comprehension of what sorts of plastics make what sorts of effects will engage us to enhance the poisonous footprint of our buildings.

Plastics are not innately terrible, and they have many redeeming environmental features; actually, a significant number of the procedures we use in our daily use include focusing on utilization of plastic products. Their formulation into adhesive commodities passes for the production of engineered hardwood and sheet commodities from recycled wood, and their formulation into the excellent padding and sealant goods increases the potential performance of our buildings.

The feedstock of plastic is fundamentally oil or natural-gas, despite the fact that bio-plastics are influencing advances in the general market to share of plastic items. Evidently issues develop in regards to the limited measure of accessible oil assets, and the contamination related to oil extraction and refinement; the monstrous Gulf Coast oil spill of 2010 is just a single of the more infamous of the many environmentally devastating mischances that are not every now and again considered notwithstanding the standard contamination effects of extraction and refinement, which are broad.

Poisonous chemical discharge amid manufacture is another noteworthy source of the negative ecological effect of plastics. An entire host of cancer-causing, neurotoxic, and hormone-problematic chemicals are standard ingredients and waste results of plastic manufacturing, and they definitely discover their way into our environment through water, land, and air contamination. A portion of the more natural mixes incorporates vinyl chloride (in PVC), dioxins (in PVC), benzene (in polystyrene), phthalates and different plasticizers (in PVC and others), formaldehyde, and bisphenol-An, or BPA (in polycarbonate). A considerable lot of these are steady natural poisons (POPs)- probably the most harming poisons on the planet, inferable from a blend of their determination in the earth and their large amounts of poisonous quality. These are examined in more noteworthy detail later in this part as a consideration of human well-being; be that as it may, their unmitigated discharge into the earth influences all terrestrial and aquatic existence with which they come into contact.

It is in the utilization stage that the advantages of plastics in strength and viability are generally obvious. Despite the fact that most plastics are benevolent in their proposed utilize shape, many discharge harmful gasses in their set up curing, (for example, splash froth) or by the prudence of their plan (as with PVC added substances off-gassing amid their utilization stage). Occupational exposure amid establishment, for example, inhalation of dust while cutting plastic pipe or off-gassing vapors of curing items, is likewise an extraordinary worry for human well-being and the environment.

The disposal of plastics-the “grave” stage, maybe it is one of the minimum perceived and most problematic zones of plastic’s effect on the environment. Unexpectedly, one of the plastic’s most attractive characteristics-its sturdiness and protection from disintegration-is likewise the wellspring of one of its most prominent liabilities with regards to the disposal of plastics. Natural life forms have an exceptionally troublesome time separating the manufactured compound bonds in plastic, making the enormous issue of the material’s ingenuity. A little measure of aggregate, plastic creation (under 10%) is viably reused; the remaining plastic is sent to landfills, where it is bound to remain buried in limbo for a huge number of years, or to incinerators, where its dangerous mixes are regurgitated all through the climate to be gathered in biotic structures all through the encompassing ecosystems.

The destructive impacts of plastic on oceanic life are pulverized and accelerating. In addition suffocation, ingestion, and other full scale particulate reasons for death in bigger birds, fish, and mammals, the plastic is ingested by smaller and smaller animals (as it separates into smaller and smaller particles) and bioaccumulates in more noteworthy and more concentrations up to the natural way of food chain and human beings at the top. Intensifying these issues of steadiness and bioaccumulation is plastic’s affinity to go about as a magnet and a sponge for persistent organic toxins, for example, polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and the pesticide DDT. In this way, in addition ingesting the physically and synthetically harming plastic mixers, oceanic life is additionally ingesting concentrated amounts of very bioaccumulative intensifies that are the absolute strongest poisons found on the planet. Once more, this bioaccumulation increment in focus as it works up the natural food chain order and into our eating diets.

The last thought of plastic disposal originates from the arrival of POPs and other dangerous chemicals into the earth from the plastics themselves. These mixes display a large group of biological and human medical problems and, similar to plastic, are additionally bioaccumulative. Polyvinyl chloride (PVC) is especially toxic, inferable from its figured consideration of halogenated aggravates (those containing bromine or chlorine), and are especially hazardous if consumed, in which case dioxins are delivered, some of which are among the most unsafe of all human-made mixes. Consider, at that point, the fantastic wellbeing risk of introduction through unintentional or unwitting burning or house fire.

The incandescent lamp is likewise sourced from a class of fire retardants that are generally planned into an assortment of plastic items found in the building business, especially polystyrene protection (XPS, EPS); the impacts of fire retardants are examined in the following segment. All in all, these unsafe chemicals are known to cause the accompanying serious medical issues: malignancy, endometriosis, neurological harm, endocrine disturbance, birth deformities and kid formative issue, regenerative harm, insusceptible harm, asthma, and different organ harm.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9814953

Importance of a Spa to Improve Beauty

in Marketing Mix by

Spa massage treatments for the skin and body are important to keep the body going. Despite knowing how wonderful these spa massage therapies can be, we hardly put out a little bit of our time for them.

Before it is too late, we need to take some time out from these busy schedules of ours to pamper ourselves with a variety of spa massage treatments which can add new life and enhance our youth and beauty.

Spa massage treatments can do wonders in enhancing the beauty both from inside and outside. They help in rejuvenating our skin and body. It also relaxes our mind and soul in a soothing environment. These therapies also help in increasing the beauty and helps in maintaining our natural look, making us look gorgeous over a longer period of time.

These spa massage therapies use different kinds of oils, herbs and natural ingredients (like water, clay, minerals, stones) which play a remarkable role in enhancing our beauty as well as have a huge impact on our skin and body.

Some of the benefits of therapies on beauty are:
Smoother Complexion and Refined Pores: Due to the dust and pollution, dirt and bacteria tend to settle and accumulate on our skin, causing breakouts, black heads and white heads. During a facial Spa massage, the therapist carefully extracts the blackheads, white heads and accumulated dirt and oil out of the skin, which gives the skin a more refined and smoother texture.

Renewed Skin: A portion of the facial spa consists of exfoliating our skin’s outermost layers. This helps in shedding away dead skin cells, removing bacteria, dirt out of our skin and unclogging the pores away.

A Fresher You: Due to exfoliation and extraction, our face will bring out new, fresh layer of skin to the surface, paving a path for any beauty creams, serums, moisturizers and anti aging creams to easily absorb into our skin, allowing maximum hydration to the skin. Hence, boosting the collagen production, increasing the plumpness of skin. As a bonus, appearance of wrinkles and fine lines is reduced with even toned skin.

No matter your age or gender, your body’s largest organ is your skin. If you want your skin to look the best and to stay healthy, you must take care of it. Healthy looking skin begins with skin care.

Spa massage therapy is an essential ingredient of your overall skin care.

Reap the best benefits to get beautiful, clear, smooth and shiny skin with the various spa massages available at O2 Spa.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9811728

If I Were A Boy

in Marketing Mix by

In 2008 Beyonce Knowles released a song “if I were a boy”, where she belts her heart out on all the things she will be able to do and will be accepted by society if she was a boy instead of a girl. This really had all the ladies thinking what if I woke up as a boy? How will life be so different for me?

Many respond to this answer by saying “they will have so much sex”, “I would make mistakes I didn’t mean”, “I’d be one of the lads”.

All these response for this question shows how flawed our society is, how men and women are allowed to act a certain way. Women are expected to follow guidelines on how to behave and act whilst men are allowed to roam freely. We are looked down upon for being sexually active, living freely and most importantly can be seen as objects. Most females will rather be men in today’s society because of all the perks that comes with the gender.

On the other side, it is not all peaches and cream being a man. Some females responded to this question that if they woke up as a man they would have troubles dealing with their emotions or will feel misunderstood. Though men do get to feel dominant and get away with things one thing society does not allow them to show is their emotions.

The idea that a gender has to act a “specific” way due to their biological traits is very upsetting and needs to be dismissed in our today society. We should be treated equally and also allowed to act the same. Men should be allowed to be able to express their emotions and women should be allowed to express being sexually active. There should not be rules and guidelines on how we can act due to our gender. It is 2017 and we are still facing problems in this topic, hopefully in years to come this mindset will soon be gone. No more “I would act like this if I were a boy” but instead women will be able to do anything they pleased without being judged by society. Men allowed to be expressive of their emotion and not be seen any less of a man because of that. If we can change how society thinks a man/woman should behave, it will be a much better world. Not only for women, but for all.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9845311

Tarot Reading Through a Mobile App – Convenient or Controversial?

in Marketing Mix by

Free Tarot Readings, a rage in today’s times, are a very convenient method of getting correct guidance on our path of life. To understand its importance, we need to understand what Tarot card reading is all about.

Tarot card reading is an ancient form of ‘fortune telling’ where a gifted person with good intuitive powers and psyche, uses a special deck of cards to help you find answers to questions about relationships, love, career, finances, health and more. This is a powerful form of divination and gives accurate reading that’s personalised, based on the cards you choose and the order you pick them in.

Tarot card reading is an ‘occult’ tool. There is nothing sinister about the word ‘occult’. It simply means ‘hidden’, since it taps the inner astuteness which we all possess. Thus, with tarot cards, we ourselves arrive at a sensible decision with the help of the wisdom contained in them. The tarot reader simply guides us by using her psychic abilities to analyse the picture on the cards.

Over the centuries, Tarot card reading has moved from behind the curtains of a dark room to a public place outside. Tarot readers are found, sitting with their tables, in shopping malls and people are willing to approach them with their queries. The questions that were once asked by people, who maybe were not considered ‘right’ in their head, is now explored by all openly. People have realised the accuracy of tarot card readings and are happy with the guidance it provides.

It is important to remember that Tarot card readings are not used to predict the future. It is used simply to guide you, as you stand confused on that cross-road. When you concentrate and ask your questions, energies of the entire universe, including our personal one, come into play to guide you on the most beneficial path. Since these energies are in constant motion, what is true today may change next week. Thus, tarot readings should be used carefully and continually for guidance. One must not make any major life decisions based on a single reading.

At this juncture, we need to be thankful to technology that has made it convenient for us to be easily connected with good tarot card readers vis a vis various mobile apps that can be downloaded easily on our smart phones. Many of these apps come with the bonus of free tarot readings. Downloading these free tarot reading apps saves us the bother of making a bee-line towards a tarot reader every week to understand our life situations. Also, since the tarot card readers don’t come cheap, these free tarot readings are a blessing.

Controversy about these free tarot readings on mobiles is that, since there is no human touch between the reader and client, how can energy be channelized into the cards through a virtual medium? But this has been solved by softwares that use the same energy like the hands while shuffling and selecting the cards. The selected cards are interpreted and a description is printed out on your mobile.

These suggestions can then be used to effectively make a right decision. So, free tarot reading apps are definitely agreeable.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9846877

Sculpture Anyone?

in Marketing Mix by

Are you experimenting and looking for another art outlet? Have you considered sculpting?

Sculpture has been with us for as long as man has been in existence. Archeologists have located many wooden, clay, and stone objects used by early human inhabitants of earth. There are collections of both art and craft articles which were made by early man.

Sculpture is a form of art expressing itself into a three-dimensional object. The object may be molded, chipped or cut depending on the medium used. It is art because it is beautiful. It is a craft if it has a practical function. The object can be both an art and a craft when it is both beautiful and functional.

Many of us were exposed to the art and craft of sculpture when we molded clay and chipped wood during our early years of school attendance. We may have been given the opportunity of more advanced projects during high school years.

The years have passed, but this may be the time as an adult to consider taking classes or teaching your self to create these two or three-dimensional art pieces.

The mediums of choice will include sand, clay, wood, sawdust, plastics, plaster of Paris, paper, paper Mache, wood, metal, snow, and ice. The sculptures may be constructed with human hands or using various types of tools.

It is recommended that you start with small projects. This is a less costly way to experiment with different mediums until making a final choice.

People Enjoy Sculpting Because:

  1. They enjoy touching and feeling the clay between their fingers and in their hands. It is a tactile art.
  2. Taking an ugly or throwaway object and creating beauty.
  3. Seeing something dirty becoming a shiny new object
  4. The enjoyment of carving an object from a block as though releasing a hidden secret
  5. The smiling faces of spectators enjoying the beautiful works of art.
  6. Just for the sake of creating something from nothing.
  7. Converting from a block a working and functional object, such as a stool, to bring comfort to humans
  8. Being able to materialize the mind’s vision into a physical object with your hands.

Mobile or Stationary:

Sculpting is no different from many arts in that it can be done anywhere.

  1. You can whittle a piece of wood while sitting on a chair on the front porch.
  2. It can be done in a working studio producing a larger amount of goods for retail.
  3. Work during the day or at night.
  4. Mold or carve indoors or outdoors.
  5. Gather and work with natural mediums or purchase newer developed products
  6. Work with hands or tools

Where will your imagination and artisan skills take you? Will you be sculpting statues, buildings, animals, plants, home décor accessories, vehicles, storybook characters, or abstract art? There are no limits to this creative process.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9849463

Hotel outcall erotic massage in Bucharest

in Humor & Fun by
Hotel outcall erotic massage in Bucharest

There is no doubt that receiving a massage is good for your mind body and soul. If it’s such an important part of living a healthy lifestyle, why don’t we all do it more often?
Massage is one of the oldest natural therapies. It contributes to physical and emotional health and to practical exercises, can stimulate and relax muscles, improve circulation and promote the healing of a wide variety of suffering. Massage is easy to achieve.
Relaxation massage is all about relaxing. It focuses on giving the client time to recover from the stresses of daily life. When you experience relaxation massage, you can expect a treatment that involves:
Long smooth gliding strokes that are rhythmic and flowing
Pressure that is deeply relaxing, but not painful
A treatment that is designed to soothe and relax you, not to relieve chronic pain or other underlying ailments.
A therapist who also takes the massage environment into account – look for soothing music, warm luxurious towels, and occasionally the use of essential oils to enhance both the environment and the effects of the massage
As with any kind of massage, the benefits of a relaxation massage can last for several days after your treatment.

Relaxation massage – like other forms of massage – can offer the following benefits:
Lowering blood pressure – at least for a while
Improvements to peripheral circulation
Improvements to skin tone and appearance
Improvements to gastrointestinal motility (bowel movements will become more regular)
Some reduction in muscle tension including the relief of muscle tension headaches
Improvements to any stress-related symptoms. This can include providing a gentle boost to the immune system if you undergo regular treatments.

There are different types of body massage and you are wellcome to try them all, or the one that is the best for you:

Swedish Massage Therapy

Swedish massage is virtually synonymous with massage therapy. Swedish massage is based on the Western concepts of anatomy and physiology, compared to the energy-centric style more common in Asian forms of massage. Using lotion or oil, massage therapists typically begin with broad general strokes and then transition to specific strokes to address problem areas. As the best-known type of bodywork performed today, one of the primary goals of the Swedish massage technique is to relax the entire body. This is accomplished by rubbing the muscles with long gliding strokes in the direction of blood returning to the heart. But Swedish massage therapy goes beyond relaxation. Swedish massage is exceptionally beneficial for increasing the level of oxygen in the blood, decreasing muscle toxins, improving circulation and flexibility while easing tension. Additional Swedish massage techniques include circular pressure applied by the hands and palms, firm kneading, percussion-like tapping, bending and stretching. Before and during your Swedish massage session, communication is encouraged with your professional massage therapist so that your massage is customized to your specific needs.

Aromatherapy Massage

An aromatherapy massage is a Swedish massage with scented plant oils (known as essential oils) added to the massage oil. Extracted from flowers and other plant parts, essential oils offer a pleasing scent and are believed to have healing properties. Lavender and rose, for instance, are known to promote relaxation. Although oils may be selected to address specific needs, the therapist typically uses pre-blended oils to relax, energize, or uplift. Your massage therapist will usually decide which essential oils to use, but you can let them know if you have a preference. Essential oils are diluted before being applied to the skin. During the massage, you’ll be given a full-body massage while inhaling essential oils through a diffuser and absorbing them through your skin. Sometimes an aromatherapy massage will only focus on your back, shoulders, and head. You won’t wear any clothing other than underwear, which is optional.

Hot Stone Massage

As the name implies, hot stone massage uses warm stones. The therapist places heated, smooth stones on specific points on the body and also holds the warm stones while giving the massage. The stones are usually basalt (a volcanic rock that retains heat well). The warmth of the stones can be relaxing and can loosen tight muscles so that the therapist can reach areas of muscle tension quickly. Stones used for the heat massage are river-smoothed stones that are heavy enough to healing pressure but light enough to avoid discomfort. Some believe that the stones are symbolic of the forces of nature as they are smoothed and molded by the gentle but influential power of the river. The smoother the stone, the more energy it is believed to hold. The stone massage is performed by placing heated or cooled stones along the client’s back, specifically upon the meridians seen in acupressure techniques. The stones then help the body retain their healing heat which in turn enter the muscles and melt away stress. In addition to river stones, some massage therapists use a tool called a body rock. The body rock is carved from stone or found and smoothed for comfort. It helps to enhance the therapist’s strength during the massage and helps focus the pressure being applied to the body. Many therapists use this tool directly on the skin but it can also be paired with massage oil or even used over the client’s clothes.

Thai Massage

Thai Massage is new to modern spas, but it is actually an ancient form of massage thought to have been developed by Buddhist monks in Thailand 2,500 years ago. It uses passive stretching and gentle pressure along the body’s energy lines to increase flexibility, relieve muscle and joint tension and balance the body’s energy systems. A unique blend of assisted yoga, passive stretching, and pressing massage movements, Thai massage is more energizing than other forms of massage. It’s a little bit like yoga without doing the work, as the therapist moves and stretches you in a sequence of postures, usually on a mat on the floor.This is why it is sometimes called “lazy man’s yoga”. Thai massage can be both relaxing and energizing, so it is a good choice if you want to be active after your massage.
The therapist uses a variety of different sequences of techniques on clients, who are either laying face up, laying face down, seated, or on their side.

Massage therapy is a treatment approach which is growing in demand and popularity. It was once considered an alternative or fringe approach, but it is now becoming much more mainstream. More importantly, now that massage therapy is considered a mainstream treatment option, many insurance companies provide coverage for treatment sessions. This form of therapy involves hands-on techniques to increase circulation, relieve tension, reduce stress, relieve anxiety, improve sleep, and promote relaxation throughout the entire body, as well as many other benefits.
The body’s soft tissue areas include the muscles, tendons, connective tissue, etc. If someone is tense and in need of a release, or they have been injured and have extensive muscle and/or nerve tissue damage that plagues their body, massage therapy might be worth exploring. Here are some benefits of massage therapy.

 

www.hotelmassage.ro

 

www.hotangels.ro

 

www.hoteloutcall.com

 

www.thaipassion.ro

 

www.vip-zone.ro

 

www.jadepalace.ro

 

Benefifts of massage:

1. It Is Relaxing – When the body is tense and under stress, it produces unhealthy levels of the well-known stress hormone, cortisol, which can contribute to weight gain, sleeplessness, digestive problems, and headaches. Massage therapy has been shown to decrease cortisol levels in the body. This enables the body to enter a recovery mode. Moreover, this form of therapy also triggers lasting feelings of relaxation, improved mood, and reduced stress levels.

2. It Reduces Stress – Not only can massage therapy help with stress relief, but regular massage sessions over a prolonged period of time can boost energy levels, reduce pain, and stimulate individuals on physical as well as emotional levels.

3. It Can Help Lower Blood Pressure – Regular massage therapy sessions have been found to reduce blood pressure levels. In fact, some long-term studies have shown that a consistent massage program can reduce both systolic (upper number) and diastolic (lower number) blood pressure. Moreover, it can also reduce cortisol levels within the body. Furthermore, consistent massage sessions can also reduce trigger sources for anxiety, hostility, tension, and depression. In turn, lower blood pressure levels can also reduce
the risk of heart attack, stroke, and/or kidney failure, as well as many other health issues.

4. It Promotes Muscle Relaxation – The purpose of massage therapy is to target the source of the body’s pain via eliminating tense muscles, increasing flexibility, and providing relaxation to the affected muscles as well as the body as a whole. Massage also promotes circulation to the affected or injured muscles, which increases nutrients and oxygen to the damaged tissues. In turn, this increased activity to the affected sites
reduces stiffness and edema (swelling) in the muscles and joints, as well as increases flexibility to help reduce pain. Moreover, this form of therapy also releases endorphins (pain-killing hormones), which boost the dopamine and serotonin levels in the body. These hormones assist the body in many ways–physically as well as emotionally. Case in point, they promote healing, pain management, and feelings of euphoria, as well as help to calm the nerves.

5. It Can Help Improve Circulation – The long-term benefits of massage therapy are not to be underestimated. Improved circulation is part of a snowball effect that occurs in the body as a result of receiving regular therapy on a consistent basis. This is because proper circulation brings damaged, stiff, and tense muscles the rich blood supply they need to promote healing. Moreover, massage also promotes improved circulation via the use of hands-on pressure, which moves the blood through the damaged and congested areas of the body. In turn, the release of this same pressure causes new blood to flow into tissues. Furthermore, the squeezing, twisting, and pulling action of the massage technique also removes lactic acid from the muscle tissues. As a result, this action improves the lymph fluid circulation, which carries metabolic waste products away from internal organs and muscles. In turn, this results in lower blood pressure levels and improved overall body function.

6. It Can Help Improve Posture – Many Americans experience back, neck, and muscle pain from a variety of sources. However, the primary cause of this pain results from poor posture. In fact, chronic back pain, massage is the number one reason for missed work days and second most common cause of disability, is often the result of incorrect or poor posture while standing and/or sitting. Moreover, being overweight, poor posture, and repetitive or overuse movements can also contribute to the strain on the back and other
potential problem areas. As a result, the added strain often causes spasms, pain, and tense muscles in the hips, glutes, back, neck, and legs. Massage therapy can help get the body back into proper alignment. In fact, improving one’s posture can be one of the most beneficial and relaxing aspects of massage therapy. Massage allows the body to relax and loosen the muscles made tense and sore via bad posture. In turn, this allows the body to position itself in its organic and pain-free posture. As part of a consistent massage therapy program, the body’s muscles are loosened and relaxed. Moreover, the joints have greater freedom, flexibility, range of motion, and pressure points are relieved. As a result,
the body is able to position itself in an organic and healthy posture. In short, massage therapy helps to correct the positions and movements developed over time as a reaction to pain.

7. It Can Help Strengthen the Body’s Immune System – Regular massage sessions provide many benefits to the human body. It is a well-known fact that individuals who experience high levels of stress are more vulnerable to illness and injury. When stress is combined with sleep disturbances and poor nutrition, the impact is directed at the body’s immune system. Its ability to naturally protect itself against infections, pathogens, and bacteria is greatly reduced. Some might wonder how massage therapy benefits the immune system. Studies have indicated that regular massage sessions not only help reduce stress, but can also boost the immune system’s cytotoxic capacity (activity level of the body’s natural “killer cells”) and enhances the body’s ability to deliver nourishment. Moreover, massage therapy can be a great addition to any exercise program. Much like regular exercise can keep the body fine-tuned, regular massage therapy can help keep the immune system strong and resilient.

Once considered an alternative or fringe approach, massage therapy is now much more mainstream and growing in popularity. More importantly, now that massage therapy is considered a mainstream treatment option, many insurance companies provide coverage for treatment sessions. This form of therapy involves hands-on techniques to increase
circulation, relieve tension, reduce stress, relieve anxiety, improve sleep, and promote relaxation throughout the entire body, as well as many other benefits.

Go to Top