{this story is for adults, kids not welcome. If you disobey, you will get terrible, permanent acne. You've been warned!!!]
Introduction
My Uncle Jack is a babe: think Robert Redford, twenty years ago.
He's thirty: I'm 20. He's my mother's youngest brother and we have been friends all during my growing up years. He is a spectacular tennis player. He was in the top 20 seeded some years back. He was famous for his powerful serve. Once he hit a ball boy in the "fundamentals" and I don't think that kid will ever be a father. My Uncle Jack is also famous for taking off his shirt on the sidelines. Teenage girls who suddenly discovered they like tennis and swelled the stands, would scream with delight.
I don't think Jack is gay. I don't think he knows that I have had a few gay affairs in college. I do have a girl friend, Janie, and we have had some monumental fucks. I love that warm, dark, moist place I can slip my cock into. Oop, I'm getting hard. Anyway to get back to my tale, Jack retired from the sport a few years ago and opened this summer tennis camp. He has room for about fifteen kids. This year there are twelve high school age boys and three girls. I spent last summer as a sort of assistant instructor but this year Jack approached me and offered me a better paying job as a massage therapist. "I don't know shit about massage," I told him but he had that all figured out. He enrolled me in a course that took most of my Saturdays during the winter. I was a fast learner and I gave Jack a sample massage. "You are good kid," He complimented me, sighing with voluptuous pleasure from me young hands.
The old massager, Otto, had been offered a job in a fancy spa in California. He was packing up the day I took over the cabin in which the massages were given. He gave me some interesting tips that I never learned in school. "Always try to get them to get in that bathtub before the massage. Make the water really hot. When they are finished, hold a towel and you dry them off. That gives them a sort of back-to-childhood feeling that they are less independent and demanding. Oh, I am leaving you my juice drink that I make up. Be sure they finish the glass before the massage. Tell them it's a sport drink."
"What is it actually?" I asked.
"Just a mix of fruit and ..er..herbs," he said and resumed his packing.
My First Customer
I got a call from one of the coaches. He was sending down Marshall Goldberg. "Kid's back is stiff."
I sat reading a magazine, dressed in shorts and a white athletic shirt. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite. "Marky Mark!, I thought, the spitting image.
There was a light knocking on the screen door. "Come in," I said a little nervously. This would be my real first. In walked a tall, maybe six three kid. Real young, maybe fifteen. He had a nice face and naturally olive skin. He was all legs. "Coach says I have to get a rub down."
I smiled to myself. Guys hate the word massage. "Yeah, I heard your back is messed up, we'll get you in great shape. Get undressed and get into the tub I'm filling. You can soap up with that special soap in the dish."
He hesitated a moment, sighed and undressed. He had to stand waiting for the water to get higher in the tub. He was hairless, except for a big bush in his crotch and under his arms. His body was ruddy in color but very clear and healthy. He has curly black hair and dark brown eyes. In a few years, he would be dishy, now he was charmingly coltish.
The water was ready. He got in, slowly lowering his skinny, but handsome ass, into the water. He moaned at the heat. Finally he sunk down and soaped up. I noticed he didn't do his hair. Very proud of our hair do aren't we I thought. He finished up and asked for a towel. I followed Otto's suggestion. "Step out, in front of this heat fan and I'll dry you off." He was submissive, just stood there as I toweled him off, lifting his leg as I asked to do under his heavy balls. He was skinny but very favored in the cock department. It was long and thin and his ball sack was very large and round.
After the dry off I offered him a drink from the stock of juice Otto had left me. Incidentally I found twenty gallon jugs of the stuff.
I put a hand on his shoulder, after he finished the drink, and steered him to the table. "Get on your stomach." He seemed a little dazed and compliant. What was in that drink? or was he just of that personality.
I didn't cover his ass and just left him naked. There was an opening in the table for the patient's face to go into. It kept the neck from being strained. He has a bony back, but broad shoulders. I began kneading the nape of his neck. I think he liked it as he squirmed and settled deeper onto the table. I continued working my way slowly down is back, giving attention the muscles on either side of his prominent spine.
Next came the buttocks. I took each one at a time and worked them between my two hands. Marshall had an erection, I knew from the bulge behind his balls. The area was puffed out right to his ass hole. Smiling evilly to myself I massaged that area and heard him take a sharp breath.
"Time to turn over," I said cheerfully. He lifted his head. I thought his eyes looked a little distant. He hesitated and finally said. "I seem to have a hard on. You better skip the turning over."
I assured him that he would have to be dead if he didn't get stiff from a real massage. "Don't worry about it."
He turned over and his slim but very long penis lay on his cute stomach, just beginning to develop abs. I did his face. The long greasy strokes on his forehead and cheeks make his cock jump and his red pillowy lips parted so he could take deeper breaths. He was really cute. My gay side began to surface. I forgot about Janie for the present
I began massaging his chest, letting my thumbs pass over his now pointy nubs. His chest was hairless but I could see a bit of thickening hair between his abs. Someday he would have chest hair. He was really into it and he began to writhe slightly.
"I'm really uncomfortable. I can't remember before having been so hard. I think I may have to excuse myself and go into the bathroom and relieve it."
"No no lad, just do what some others do. Just grab hold and get off right here. I'll just spread a towel."
He thought for a moment and then reached down and took hold of his cock. He began stroking but I could see it wasn't working well.
"Here let me put a little oils on it." I poured a little oil on my hand and smoothed it on his cock. He moaned and shook as I asked, "Do you want me to do it for you." (Oh I was so crafty.) He asked "Yes, yes". I stroked slowly, maddingly slow. He kept thrusting into my hand, trying to fuck it and cum. "Should I do it harder and faster." He almost cried out, "Please."
I stroked harder, slipping over his circumcised cock head, over and over. He was trembling all over and almost crying. Suddenly he turned rigid. "It's cuming," he grunted and a beautiful arc of gizm sailed out of the tip and up over his head; then another which his hair; then another which landing on his lips. A few short bursts and it was over. He lay there in blissful afterglow. I grabbed a light blanket and covered him. He was asleep almost immediately.
About an hour later he woke up. "How's the back?"
"It's great but I may need a follow up," and he smiled crookedly, looking me in the eyes searchingly.
The football player
I learned soon that his name was Spike. His main sport was football but it had been suggested by his coach that he take up tennis to improve his speed and accuracy. I understand that he was a natural on the court. He was pretty enthusiastic about tennis they told me but he was a bit unable to control his powerful wild strokes.
In event, he had no appointment and he didn't knock, just burst in. "Where's Otto?," he asked gruffly. I looked him over. He was like a big baby. Hairless, bit thighs, baby face with pale blue eyes. A short, blond crew cut on his large head. Some might consider him gross looking. I thought he was very cute. I explained that Otto was no longer here. He stopped like a bull about to charge. "Did he leave the special drink? Did he tell you what the special treatment is that I get?
"Yes and no. But I can do any treatment you want if you tell me what it is Meanwhile, why don't you strip off and get in the tub" (I was trying to regain control of the situation.)
"No bath. Otto stopped that. But I'm clean and clean all over," he leered at me. "But I'll have a glass of the hard on drink."
Ho Ho, I thought. What is this: a viagra cocktail or some herb from China that accounts on their large population. I poured a drink. "Have some yourself," he smiled lopsided at me. For a minute I thought I might but then I said no.
He undressed quickly. Threw his 250 pounds onto the protesting table. Spread his legs and said in a muffled voice from the hole in the table, "I'm ready. Do it!"
I began a heavy massage starting with his muscular shoulders and back, I kneaded his butt cheeks. He liked that. He lifted up, "You sure he didn't tell you about the special treatment? Wait, look in that drawer."
I crossed the room, opened the drawer. "You mean this," I asked as I held up a rubber representation of a very large cock.
"Yeah," that's it. "Now I turn over, you grab my cock and start pumping and I lift my legs and you plug me with that.
"They never taught us that at school but I'm game."
He was erected already when he turned over. Let me tell you about this "erection" . When he first undressed I was surprised that a big guy like this had a small rosette of a cock. It nestled in his crotch against his small balls. But as he got hard the head which was large emerged and became a nice five inch, thick cock.
"Put it in. What's your name?" "Jeff," I told him. "OK Jeff, we're about to become ass hole buddies. Don't be shy, do what I ask."
He pointed to his butt hole, now exposed and told me to shove it in. I took the dildo, greased it and slowly inserted it. I couldn't believe that this monster slipped in. He grunted in pleasure. "Move it a little." His eyes turned upward as he entered a kind of sexual hazy. "Stroke my cock."
I didn't move immediately, and he shouted "Fuck, do it!" I grabbed his short hard organ and used two fingers to stroke and squeeze. He grabbed my hand that held the fake cock. "Move it!" So we got into the rhythm. It was a bit like trying to coordinate two diverse motions but I liked the guy. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to be as good as Otto. It went on for about five minutes. Suddenly he bellowed and the dildo shot out as his ass hole tightened. His cock spew out a good quantity of grade "A" cum and he fell back. He patted my hand. "Good job. Let me rest a minute."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
There are two or three more customers, A jock, an Asian and........Uncle Jack. Keep looking for them.
Hope you got a "rise" out of this and a good solution in hand.
Regards, Jay Roberts