Why You Should Start Lovemaking with a Nice, Good Massage

Most guys want one thing: the climax. The finish line. The five-minute release. And hey, I get it. We’re taught that’s the whole point.

But when that’s your only goal, you miss so much. So much.

It’s like visiting a world-class theme park and only riding the most intense roller coaster—once—then heading home to sleep. You ignored the gardens, the slow dark rides, the shows, the little stalls that sell spun sugar. You got the adrenaline spike and missed the magic.

Or put it this way: you ordered an entire tasting menu at a restaurant and only ate the sweetest bit of dessert. Yes, it was delicious. But the chef is weeping in the kitchen.

Here’s what I’ve learned, both as a professional and as someone who used to chase the finish line myself: the more time you devote to the rest of the body—to the skin, the shoulders, the arches of the feet, the back of the neck—the more explosive, profound, and sustained the pleasure becomes.

People call that “foreplay.” I dislike that word. It implies that kissing, caressing, teasing, and massaging are just the opening act. Tasks to be completed before the real sex starts. As if touching isn’t already sex. As if building heat isn’t part of the fire.

The common mindset is that women need foreplay. That you do it for them. And a lot of men, especially when hiring a service, don’t want it. They think it’s filler. They want to get straight to the main event.

That mindset keeps you trapped in a tiny, boring room of your own sexuality. It locks you out of the palace next door, where the multi-orgasmic nature of delight lives.

Let me tell you something personal. I have a dick. I used to believe that multi-orgasmic bliss was reserved for people with vaginas and uteruses. That I had one shot, then a nap. I was wrong.

I trained my body. I learned to engage certain muscles, to breathe, to ride the waves without spilling over too fast. I practiced techniques—solo, with partners, with patient tantric lovers—until I could come again and again, surfacing for air and diving back in. When I’m with someone experienced in the art of lovemaking, we can go for hours. Not in a frantic, athletic way. In a rolling, breathing, teasing, resting, returning kind of way.

And it often starts with a good massage. A long, intentional, full-body massage that wakes up every nerve ending and tells the body: Stay a while. There’s nowhere else to be.

So this is my invitation, my dare for you: Try it once. Book a session that begins with a real massage. Let touch be the destination, not the detour. Explore what happens when you stop rushing toward the finish line.

If you don’t enjoy it, you can always go back to your five-minute release and your roller-coaster-only tickets. No hard feelings.

But I’ll tell you what I told myself after my first taste of this: I’m never looking back. Those boring days are over.

Your body can do more than you think. You just have to give it a chance—and maybe a nice, good massage.