Massage Me
by Alex Carbine
Chapter Two.
The Three Toners
As a Commercial Traveller I do, as the description suggests, travel. Staying in a Hotel in Manchester, England, which had been chosen by my Company, I was settling into my room when the Porter, who had delivered my bags from the taxi into the room, asked the usual question, normally with a hand out for a tip, "Will there be anything else?"
I had had a tiring flight from New York, I ached and my internal clock had not adjusted to the English night-time yet. "Yes," I answered on a whim, "can you advise where I can go for a massage. And before you answer, I want a massage, not a masseuse or an 'extra pillow' or whatever the euphemism is in Manchester. I want a male massage and possibly a Sauna or steam or something." (This, with hindsight, was my first mistake) The Porter gave me a suppressed smile. "Understood Sir. And when would be convenient, Sir?" he asked amiably. "Now. Soon. This evening. Whatever. I feel like I have been in a ringer, and I am wide awake. I leave it to you. Bell us back when it's fixed," and I gave him a Five Pounds note as he went. The phone beside my bed rang ten minutes later.
"It's Derek the Porter, Sir. If you will allow the liberty, I have made these arrangements on your behalf. Firstly the Hot Room, Sauna and Jacuzzi are available all night in our Pool Room. You can easily reach them if you use the Lift by turning left out of your room. It is four doors away. You may wear the Hotel towelling gown for your transfer. Go to the bottom floor, Sir, the lift button is labelled 'Pool Room' and the duty all-night Attendant has been alerted, will supply towels and will look after you. Please do not forget your door-card key, for your return. There is no charge for this service. Secondly, your massage. I have secured the services of a visiting massage, who can see to your needs in your room. It is a firm I have used with other Guests, called The Three Toners. A dreadful pun, Sir, but the service is reportedly faultless. An Operative will be with you in 15 minutes, and he will have all the paraphernalia he needs with him, Sir. Is this to your wishes, Sir?"
I sat on the bed and laughed quietly down the phone in amazement. "Thank you Derek, I cannot think of anything you have left out. I may want something to eat in the small hours of your night, and I will phone down then. In the meantime, put a large glass of your favourite drink on my bill as a thanks and have it when you will. And thanks for all your trouble. I will await your 'Toner'." I had a shower in the bathroom suite and then lay on the bed wearing my towel.
Almost exactly 15 minutes had passed when there was a firm knock at the door. Calling for the person to "Come in," I sat up. "Three Toners, Sir" came a voice as a folded portable table entered, followed by a man of about late twenties carrying a big blue chill box with a white lid. "Visiting massage," he said having closed the door behind him, just to confirm he was in the right room. He was wearing athletic sweat pants with a matching top, and trainers. From my bed I gave him a "Hallo" and a smile and watched silently as he set his table and bottles up. "How much?" I said, braking the silence when he looked as though he was finished. "Oh, sorry," he said and came over and handed me a printed list of Services and Charges. "Visiting Massage is almost at the bottom, Sir." He had a soft voice and he moved easily, as if he was sure of himself and surroundings.
"Do much of this?" I asked as I surveyed the List. "All the time Sir." he replied. "Do you have any Medical conditions I should be aware of? Heart, limb, whatever?" he asked and I realised he was surveying me as I lay on the bed. "No, nothing I can think of, unless you can say that air-plane cramp is a medical condition?" We both smiled, and our gazes met and locked. "Anything in particular you want me to do?" he asked. "My body feels like death warmed up. What I really need is a deep massage," I said. "A 'deep' massage, Sir." he repeated, "you want a 'deep' massage?"
"Can you do that?" I asked, as I quite often had a sport massage that really got into my muscles and made me feel totally refreshed after it. (And with hindsight, this was my second mistake.) "Of course Sir. Whatever you want, and I think," and here he looked me in the eye with a smile, "I think I am really going to enjoy it, Sir. By the way, my name is Adam, Sir." "And my name is Alex," I replied, getting off the bed to walk to him naked.
He had me lay on my front. There was a disposable paper sheet on the soft white leatherette of his table, and I lay with my head in the padded hole at the end, I could only see his feet as he walked around me. "Would you mind if I stripped my top off, before we start, Alex?" he said. "Whatever is comfortable for you," I said. When he returned his feet were bare. I could still see the bottom of his sweat pants. He poured warmed oil on my back and started his massage.
As he worked his nimble hands massaged the tiredness out of my muscles, leaving behind a feeling of slight euphoria. When I turned over as he asked, I could see that there was a thin sheen of perspiration on his bare, hairless upper torso. I watched his arm and chest muscles ripple as he worked me. At one point he stood at my head and was working my lower ribs, and beads of his sweat dripped off his nipples and I was able to taste his saltiness. Then he was down at my feet working my ankles and legs. Then he was at my hips working my upper thighs. He took my leg and under his guidance I bent at the knee as he lifted and stretched it. Then he went to the other side of me and repeated the manoeuvre with my other leg. Then he massaged oil into my inside thighs. It felt almost erotic. His fingers travelled all the way up my legs, brushing my balls sack and up over onto my abdomen. I realised that I was getting a hard-on.
Then he asked me to turn back again onto my front. As I nestled back into the padded face hole, he was at his box fetching more warmed oil. (This assumption was my third mistake, but they were not mistakes as such, it was that I had been mistaken, I had been miss-understood.) I felt the warmed oils being applied to my spine and then felt the warmth as it trickled down the crack of my ass-cheeks onto my balls. Lying as I was I could feel my cock as it stiffen more. Then he was massaging my ass cheeks, one to each hand, squeezing and rubbing them, so that they were pushed up and down then sideways, open and closed. He was standing at my feet and he parted my ankles, one to each corner of the table, so that my legs were well apart. Then his hands were on my legs above my knees, rubbing the skin from knee to buttock. I realised he could see my swollen cock, my balls and my ass hole, but I said nothing. I have had gay massages before, and I enjoyed them, but this was unexpected. My mind played back what I had said earlier. "I want a man to massage me." "I want a 'deep' massage." I realised how the aim of the massage had changed in the last few minutes.
He was now standing at my head, massaging my lower spine. I opened my eyes and looked at his feet. They were still bare, but I could not see the bottom of his sweat pants. He was not wearing them. I lifted my head out of the hole in the table and stared at his waist as he massaged my spine. He was totally naked. He was also totally hairless. He had an erection. He was circumcised. His cock was about 8 inches long. I realised he had removed his pants when he had asked me to turn back over. He moved closer to me so his cock was virtually sticking up my nose. I did the only thing I could in this situation.
His cock had the taste of almonds from the oils he was using. I moved a little forwards on the table so the he could stick himself properly into my mouth. I was now able to take him without a strain to my neck. He was able to face-fuck me easily with a simple movement of his hips, as he ran his oiled fingers down my ass-crack, and stroked across my pulsating ring. I swung my arms round and took hold of his hard stalk, cupping his heavy, swinging balls. He stopped humping my mouth and let my lips slide up and down his shaft. I had had experience at 'deep throating' a companion and I was able to control my 'gag' reflex. I took him deep into my throat, suppressing a giggle when I thought of me innocently asking for a 'deep' massage. English as she is spoken!
He pulled out of me with a "Relax, I'm coming back." I watched him return into view with a glass dildo shaped like a child's round sword, a shaft with a guard and a handle. It must have been 10 inches long from bulbous tip to the guard. I took hold of his cock again, and opened myself up as he slipped his length into my throat. He leaned forwards, his abdomen pushing my nose to one side, as he stretched along me until I felt the bulb end of the dildo at my back-passage door. His fingering must have opened my ring muscle or he had applied something to me, as the glass invader popped through without pain, sliding in with that delicious feeling of being filled. I realised that his electric chill box was actually a warming container, as the glass was actually warm to my touch, whilst it slid further and further into my bowels. He pulled his cock almost out of my mouth, to let me breathe, then leaned himself into me again, loving the way my swallowing muscle action milked over his helmet.
I was able to feel the guard of the dildo as it pushed right up against the crinkly exterior of my hole. Holding it in up to the hilt, he again pulled his cock almost out of my mouth to give me air. He knew what he was doing, and I knew what I was capable of. We were evenly balanced. As he fucked my ass with his toy, I let him fuck my mouth and throat with his cock. For several minutes we enjoyed the mutual sensations. Then, as he continued, he asked if I wanted him to bum me for real.
It was one of those questions that I could only yell "Yes!" to. However I simply nodded my assent and he withdrew his stiff cock from me. I felt him mount the table and then his knees either side of my hips. I raised myself up off the table, my ass and hole ready to be entered. He gently slipped the glass dildo out of me, and replaced it with himself so deftly that I almost thought that he had pushed the dildo back in. But then I felt under myself and was gratified by the feeling of two pairs of balls hanging there. My 'V' shaped fingers felt either side of his hard invader as it slid in and out of me. I always dribble when sexually excited, but I was veritable gushing as his the flared helmet of his cock rode the track up and down my tight tube. He put his hand round my hip and began wanking me to my climax, but I was wise to his wiles. The sooner I came, the sooner he could go. With a totally selfish thought, I concentrated on his cock reaming me, rather than his hand milking me. I contracted my sphincter muscle and he grunted. I managed to contract the muscles in my lower bowel and he grunted. In return his hand worked overtime to make me cum. Then he gave up, and both his hands were on my buttocks as he shafted me, his hard cock reeking havoc as it pumped and pulled.
Eventually it was him who came first. I felt his cock convulse inside me, witnessed the sudden warmth of his ejaculation deep in my gut, and the ease with which he could slide in and out due to him slipping in his own sticky juices. This in turn set me off, and with him still inside me, I stood up on my knees and let my incredibly stiff cock send rope after rope of my sperm onto the bed and hole in front of me. Holding tightly onto my shoulders, he continued to hump me until I was totally spent and finished, and this without my touching my cock as I came, which for me was most unusual. Suddenly I felt utterly washed out.
He let go my shoulders, withdrew his wondrous cock, and climbed off the table. I collapsed in a heap and lay on my back, my hair becoming sticky with my cum. He returned to me and helped me bend my legs, my feet up to my cheeks. Reaching in between, his oiled fingers massaged my open, leaking hole with a soothing salve, until it closed, his ministrations a welcome coolness to my hot battered bum. He left me for a few minutes whilst he showered quickly in my bathroom then returned and helped me to sit up. I moved to the bed and tenderly sat on a towel. He did what was necessary and folded his table away. I asked about his payment, and he said that I would be billed for a meal for four, which I could probably claim back on expenses.
Before he left he gave me a kiss, and told me that he would 'do that again any day' which he probably meant. Then he and his kit were gone. I phoned down for a coffee, which Derek the Porter brought to me personally. "Enjoyed your massage, Sir?" he asked, his expression middle-of-the-road, eyeing me lounging in a Hotel towel that had fallen open. "Thank You Derek. It was exactly what I wanted, now I come to think of it. Well done!" I answered with a smile coming easily to my face. "Worth another drink Sir, before you go below to your Sauna? I will alert Alfred the Attendant to look after your every need, that is if Sir has any needs left?" He looked pointedly at my still half-erect cock and continued, "He is a very 'big' lad I am told, like yourself, and his talents are really very ... inventive, Sir" "Yes Derek, you've earned another drink, and if he is as interesting as you say, you may note that Alfred may be 'otherwise engaged' tonight. See you sometime tomorrow, Derek. And Thank You."
If you have enjoyed this story as much as I did at the time, please let me know at alex.carbine@sky.com All mail will be replied.