Massage Me
by Alex Carbine
I propose to set out a selection of stories concerning some of the massages I have had. On the 14th August I posted 'Magnificent Massage' on Nifty, and having asked for comments, I received an electronic bag-full - it seemed to touch a familiar nerve for you readers. So for those who read my story then, and for new readers ... now read on ;-p
Chapter One.
I was disappointed when I heard that Stan no longer worked at the Sauna where I usually went for a massage. Although he only did a proper massage and never included a 'happy ending', his was always the most satisfying as far as massages go. "Yeah, he's working from home now, but I can give you his number, if you want?" said the Sauna attendant, as he cleaned the floor in the changing room. I took his number down on a piece of paper and put it in my wallet as I left that late afternoon, to go to meet friends for dinner.
About three days later, as I was going through my wallet, sorting out receipts for my expenses claims, I came across the number on the paper. On impulse, as I had nothing to do that evening, I rang the number, but was put through to his answer-phone service. I left a message and rang off. After an hour my mobile chirped at me and it was Stan. "Sorry I couldn't answer your call," he said, "I was at the Gym, and only saw your message when I changed after. Yes, I am free this evening, so how long do you want to book?" "Thanks Stan. What are you charging now?" I asked, and we sorted out a two hour booking for 8pm at his address, which I noted down.
It was typical that Stan had been at the Gym. He was about 35 years old and to my lay-man experience was at the peak of his fitness, with a well balanced build, a genuine tan and muscles where muscles were not with me. I arrived at his ground-floor flat about 5 minutes early and heard the strains of a classical track playing inside as he came to the door. He was bare-footed and wearing a short pair of blue satin running shorts and an armless athletic sweat shirt. "Come in Alex," he said, "I was just setting up the room for you," and he ushered me in.
When I entered the sitting room a lad in his late twenties stood up and offered me his hand. "Meet John, my partner," said Stan amiably. I think my surprised expression said it all. I had never been aware that Stan was actually gay, or that he lived with another male, let alone a gorgeous twink with a blonde bubble of curly hair and really angelic features. "How do you do?" asked John, offering his hand. "Stan has told me about you ... and don't worry," he said, his soft hand shaking mine, and smiling, "only the good things!" Stan motioned for me to sit in the settee and I sat, smiling at the both of them, John who had now sat also, and Stan standing beside him with his hand on John's shoulder. "You two look good together," I said.
"Thanks," said Stan, "we both feel good as well." "We've only been together now for six months," said John. "And it is really his outlook on life that changed mine," offered Stan, "I mean, I met John at the Sauna one night and we got to talking...." "And we ended up buying this place and sharing our living expenses," finished John. I let this sink in. "You mean ... you are not ...?" I started. "What, joined at the hip," laughed Stan. "No Stan's straight, I'm the only one that's gay!" laughed John, "but I put up with him." "And I put up with him," finished Stan, then he asked, "Would you like to shower, it's through here? Just leave your clothes on the settee," and he disappeared through the doorway.
I stood up and looked around. "Don't mind me," said John and looked away at the wall nonchalantly. I had stripped down almost to my underwear when I realised John was now looking my way somewhat intently. Although over sixty, I am in good trim really, and I was wearing a Gregg Homme 'Toy Boy' black jockstrap. I took my trousers off and could not resist turning my back to him and bending at the waist to put them down neatly on the settee with my other folded things, showing him a hint of my hairless hole and the back of my shaven balls. I turned back to find him unconsciously licking his top lip. Without feeling any embarrassment I pulled my jock down, letting my half-hardon jut away from my body, before again turning my back, bending to pull the jock to the floor, giving him a fully open view of my rear, in all its' glory. Turning back I smiled at him saying, "Do you like what you see?" John swallowed and nodded guiltily, a wan smile of his face.
As I made for the door, cock and balls swinging, John reached out from his chair and his fingers brushed under my ball sack. "Tell Stan I will pop in later," he said smiling, looking me in the eyes. "That is, if you want me to?" he added. "Yes, I think I probably do," I answered, still looking into his cherubic face, "if it doesn't cause any problems?" "No," said John, "Stan does his thing and I do mine. That's the way our worlds revolve." He watched as my cock twitched for him.
Stan had fitted the spare bedroom in the apartment as his massage room. I had a nice but quick shower and joined him there. The lights were low, the room was warm and it smelled nice of the incense stick he had just put out before the air became 'heady'. As I entered I said that John would join us later, if that was OK, and Stan laughed a "There's no stopping him. Are you OK with it?" "Truthfully Stan, you give a wonderful massage, but I think John may just give me what I want after. I just hope he does not undo all your good works," I said and lay face down on the table for Stan to start.
The massage was perfect and after an hour and a half I was so relaxed I was almost dropping off, when I heard the door open and felt a slightly cooler draft blow over me. I was laying on my back and I turned my head to one side to be met with the vision of 'the angel John' minus wings, as he stood in the low light, wearing a blue and white Andrew Christian Flex-Soft Air Jock. He turned slowly round under the down-lighter, his blonde hair lit like a halo, his hands behind him holding his ass-cheeks apart, his ass framed by the white piping on the edge of the blue leg straps of the jock. By the time he had rotated 360 degrees my flaccid cock was already showing him my signs of interest. "I am just going to take a break," said Stan, "but I will be back later, to finish off. I will leave you two to play." And with that he left the room.
John came over to me at the table. My right hand was able to hold his left bubble-butt cheek as he bent over and gave me a kiss on the lips, his right hand resting lightly on my thickening cock. My middle finger felt the already lubricated cleft between his cheeks, so my first and middle fingers felt for his sphincter. John's hand closed round my hardened shaft and he gave it a couple of wanks. "Are you always like this or just really pleased to see me?" he asked laughing, giving a grateful "Ooh!" as I pushed my fingers inside his ring.
I turned my head to the side again and saw that the lump in his jock was becoming a well defined tube, pointing towards his hip. I pulled him towards my mouth and took the tube in my mouth, biting it gently through the fabric, whilst he helped my fingers go into him, up to the knuckles, by pushing his backside back onto my fingers. His mouth found the end of my cock and he slipped my purple head past his hot, salivary lips. As I wanked his bum with my fingers, he wanked my cock with his mouth, and I was able to taste the pre-cum coming through his jock from his knob end.
Time stood still for a few moments until he stood away a bit and pulled his jock down to the floor, stepping out of it as he held his rigid cock in his left hand, guiding it to my open inviting mouth. I could smell not only his exciting sexual smell, but also the hint of violets from the soap with which he had washed everywhere. We were both well turned on with each other.
He sucked my cock and I sucked his cock, as he stood beside the table. Then, the table being wide enough to take both of us, he climbed up and over me so that his knees were either side of my head, his rampant cock pointing downwards and in my mouth, my hands on his wonderful globe buttocks, round his swinging bollocks, in his open dark brown hole. He was holding my cock with one hand, pulling the skin back taught and his lips were bobbing up and down my shaft, supporting himself with his other hand on the table. Then he was leaning back, his hole over my mouth for me to lick, my hands at his front to wank his stiffy and play with his balls. His hands massaged my lower body and cock, his fingers dancing up and down my shaft and over my swollen cock-head.
Then my head and face were free, and I felt him moving on the table until his knees were either side of my hips. He was facing my feet and he felt behind himself, guiding my resisting cock into his winking hole, then, he was leaning back and making it slide in and down to its' hilt, my sensitive cock-head feeling the interior of his bowel as it slid by, the lumps and bumps, the heat, the compression, the snatching muscles. Then he was on the up stroke until he felt my cock-head almost pop out of his sphincter, before leaning back again, taking all of me back deep inside him. I watched as my cock pushed the stretched skin round his hole first in and then was dragged out as my cock moved back and forth past his prostate gland. I felt the sticky liquid that was bubbling out of his cock slit on my hand as I wanked up and down his cock, one hand on his cock, the other round his balls, squeezing them gently, milking him towards his orgasm. His head fell back and he bounced up and down of my cock, savouring the thickness moving inside him, setting his own pace for his impending explosion. I put my hands on his back and helped support him, laying on my back there as he worked my cock for me, my eyes closed, my energies concentrated on the sensations emanating from my cock.
I could feel my orgasm mounting. There was nothing I could do but let it happen, and when it did I jerked as I held onto the sides of the table as my muscles had spasm after spasm, squeezing my cum out of my balls and up into him, painting the insides of his love tube with my nectar, whilst he continued to pound up and down on my erect, squirting cock. Feeling my cumming inside him triggered his orgasm and I felt him tremor and his sphincter twitch as he squirted his cum down along the table out from the end of his rock hard, swaying cock, feeling it land over my legs like hot lead, towards my knees.
He then continued at a slower rate, bouncing up and down on my tender, sensitive cock until I had to ask him to stop. I watched as he leaned forwards, my cock slipping out of the hole, either when he moved forwards or as his bowel expelled the invader. I looked right into his blood red hole as he concentrated on closing it. I saw the white of my cum start to dribble out of him and down the back of his balls sack, to drip and puddle lumpishly over me and on the table.
He put one foot on the floor and swung the other over me. I saw he was covered in sweat, his blonde bubbly hair matted to his scalp. His cock was diminishing, as was mine. He sat on the side of the table and put a hand on my nipple. "That was good, wasn't it?" he panted, still sucking air into his laboured lungs. "You did all the work," I reminded him. "OK then, you owe me," he said with a grin.
And it was not long before I was paying him back, but that is another story.
If you have enjoyed this or have any comments, e-mail me at alex.carbine@sky.com I like to hear your comments and always reply.
Read more of my stories at 'Prolific Web Authors' on the Nifty opening page.