Getting a massage means being mostly naked while getting intensely rubbed by a complete stranger while something shitty, probably Enya, plays in the background. You take your clothes off, you get touched for a while to get relaxed, and then no one has sex with anyone. Right off the bat, I question the logic of a business built on coupling relaxation with concentrating absolutely all of my energy on not getting an erection. As guys go through puberty, they enter a phase of their life where they start getting incriminating erections--in class, at lunch, on the bus-- all the time and for no reason. So, like most healthy, awkward, American males, I spent the bulk of my time between ages 13 and 17 stopping my body from sprouting boners just whenever it wanted. Eventually, my body learned that, while they were mostly frowned upon, there were a few rare instances when erections were okay and, in fact, encouraged. Lying fairly naked on a bed in the dark while a woman rubs oil over your body is one of those times, my body believes.
"Look, your head is full-on inside her vagina, there's no way this is against the rules, I'm gonna stop by and say Hi."-My erection, at this moment.