The last time I was in India, both spas insisted I put on some paper underwear. And be draped. One masseur, however, seemed tempted to see the boner in my underwear but I think he was too frightened. In Singapore once, at luxury hotel, the masseur kept poking my butthole with his finger. I wasn’t sure if we was trying to turn me on or annoy me! Sorry for the digression. I’m trying to remember my very first erotic massage.