Erotic Massage
In the 1980s I participated in a massage group. The leader of that group was George, and he was both a talented masseur and a sexy man. About six feet tall with dark blond hair and a trim dancer's body, George was a nice teacher to have. He was maybe forty years old at the time I knew him. One evening he mentioned to the group that he gave private massages as well, and told the story of a man who recently had requested a private massage. In the midst of a legitimate massage, the guy had complained that he had been hoping for something more personal.
"Oh, you want an erotic massage," said George to the client. "And we ended up doing everything, including anal beads," he laughingly added . "The guy was so pleased that he asked if he could come back the following night with his girlfriend so that she could watch."
Well, when I heard that story I knew that I had to engage George for a private massage.
And so I arranged it soon afterward. As I stretched out nude on George's massage table, I quickly got to the point.
"I'd, uh, like an erotic massage, George," I informed.
George did not comment, but continued to rub and pummel my back and butt and legs with his competent professional touch. After a while I was asked to turn over on to my back and George began to rub oils on to my chest, arms legs abdomen, and eventually my erect dick. George knew at least a dozen different ways to massage a cock, and had funny names for several of them, like "the indian burn," and "rock around the cock." George was basically a nudist and had stripped soon after I arrived. I felt his dick and played with it whenever it was at a convenient location. He remained about half hard throughout the legitimate part of the massage, and as his strokes became more sensual, I began to touch him with greater frequency and intensity and soon he was standing as erect as I.
George climbed up on the table, his head to my feet, and continued his delightful ministrations. His hard, cut, average sized cock and shaved balls stared me in the face. A small tuft of light brown pubic hair was artfully trimmed.
Well, I guess he expects me to go down on it, I thought. Maybe I should say something, but I don't want to offend him, by implying that I think he might have something. His lips were poised above my stiff cock, as he slowly retracted the foreskin and slowly pulled it back into place.
"I love uncut cocks," he confided. "I was just telling a client the other day how much more you can do with an uncut dick."
"Mmm, well, uh, I just like to touch. This, like what we're doing, is great."
With that pronouncement, George decided to get me off and get me off quick. Kneeling outside my legs, his right hand flew like lightning. I tried to speed up my masturbation of him as well, but I was no match. Within a minute or so my hips were bucking, and I was shooting stringy strands of silver cum. George wiped his cummy fist on the sheet that covered the massage table, and jumped down. Looks like I would not get to see his semen today. Right.
He quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and began to fuss with the music on the other side of the room. I dressed slowly, cleaning myself up with a towel that George had thoughtfully left next to my clothes. I felt a little let down, you know, like the way you sometimes do right after you come. But I was also disappointed that no roman candles had gone off during this erotic massage that I had so looked forward to.
But maybe George was disappointed too. Here a session that starts promisingly with a request for an erotic massage fails to even materialize into a blowjob.
Not to mention anal beads.