I had been partying hard on New Year’s Eve, however, I woke up surprisingly fresh in the head but my body sore from the gym. I needed a massage, but surely that’s not possible on New Year’s Day? I searched GumTree for “mobile massage” – I wasn’t in the mood for venturing out.
I scrolled the search results, sending the same message to each of them: “Don’t suppose you are free today are you?” – I sent it to about 10 numbers, hoping at least one of them would reply. I know from previous exploits that a lot of these girls offer sex too, but I was actually looking more for the massage today. Perhaps if she was hot I could be persuaded. Massage always got me hard and ready anyway.
After several “not today sorry” replies, I finally got a yes. There were no pictures on the ad that related to this number, so I saved to my contacts and checked the WhatsApp pic. It was a fucking guy. I ignored the message and waited for the other’s to respond, but after an hour I realised that none of them were going to. I lay in bed considering. I really wanted the massage, my body needed it, but I was fully aware that a massage always got me hard, and this dude would see it and get the wrong idea completely. I was OK with a man massaging me, but definitely not ok with a guy stroking my cock until I cum.
As I debated the idea in my head, I noticed that the little fuck downstairs was already hard. What was going on here? I then had a brainwave. If I had a wank just before he arrived, that should see me through to the end of the massage without any embarrassing moments. I arranged for a 1400 appointment and looked forward already to my 1345 wank.
The massage guy a little early, knocking on the door just seconds after I shot my load. I still lay naked with cum over my chest. I grabbed a t-shirt out of my wash basked, wiped off the mess and threw on my bathrobe to run to the door. This wasn’t setting the right tone, answering the door with just a robe I thought.
The masseur was younger than he looked in his WhatsApp pic, no older than 25. He was tall and built, looking sporty in his green jogging suit, black cap, and trainers. He carried what looked like a very heavy massage table with ease. He looked straight, thankfully. If he didn’t smell so good, I would have guessed that he had come straight from a heavy gym session. I made a mental note to ask him later what he was wearing, it would look a bit suspect to be the first question.
He set up his table in my living room, then excused himself to let me get ready on the bed face down. I noticed as he was leaving, not in a sexual way of course, that his ass could give Kim Kardashian a run. I whipped off my robe, and got face down on the bed, noticing a familiar whiff of my not perfectly clean chest as I did so. Only then did I realise that I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Shit. There wasn’t a spare towel on the massage table. Fuck it, I thought, I’m sure that he’s used to seeing other men’s dicks. If he was so bothered about me being covered he would have left an extra towel.
I lay on the table face down, noticing that a slight hangover feeling was now creeping its way in. Lost in my self-pity I didn’t hear him return to the room, I just suddenly felt his warm firm hands applying oil to my back. It felt very different to the touch of a woman. Deeper and firmer. Better. This guy knew what he was doing. I felt instant relief and my body was relaxing in his hands. There were no wishy-washy moments., every single stroke of his hands had an effect. I lost myself I was completely zoned out when he asked me to turn over
“Drifting off their bud”, he said, gently shaking my shoulder. I turned over. Very aware that I was completely naked but too chilled out to care, I turned over, keeping my eyes closed to maintain the chillout zone I had reached.. Thankfully my plan to have a wank before the massage had paid off, I could feel my dick was soft. Usually when I have a massage I turn over with a raging hard-on, its a good sign to let the girl know I want the extras that you pay over the odds for.
I squinted my eyes open to have a look at the dude as he was massaging my feet. I was curious, I hate having my feet touched but this felt good. I could see that he had took his sweater off and his arms were bulging out of his t-shrt. I was aware before when he had his top on that he was a beef, but I had no idea that he was this muscled at all. He was handsome too, in a way that you had to really look at him to notice. He remained acutely focused on what he was doing with my feet – he didn’t notice me watching him.
Just out of pure curiosity, I checked down to see what he was packing in the joggers, but there wasn’t much to see, making me feel a bit better about my flacid cock being on full display.
Moving on from my feet, he started working my thighs, going deep into the muscle and really hitting the spot I needed. He worked both legs, one after the other, deep. It was actually quite painful but I knew that it was doing me good. From the thigh muscle, his pressure turned soft as he started stroking the inside of both of my thighs, all the way from the knee up to the insides of my ball sack, his hands stroking past my balls on either side. The first few strokes, I thought, this is a bit weird. Never have any of my female massage therapist done anything similar. But, it went on and on….and then my dick started to move.
With my eyes closed, I couldn’t see it, but I could feel, the movement. I lost focus on what the guy was doing and could only feel my dick moving. It felt like I was watching one of them slow-mo videos of a caterpillar turning to a butterfly. Feeling every movement until my dick was as hard as brick.
I debated whether to mention it or not. I could explain that it was just from the fact he was touching my inner thighs that are super sensitive. I opened my eyes and was about to explain, but noticed that he didn’t seem phased at all. I also noticed the joggers now had a big erect dick outline. He looked fucking huge now, where was that before? Seeing this I needed to tell him that I wasn’t gay. But no words seemed right.
He continued to massage me, not touching my erect dick, not mentioning it, it was like both our secret. He finished off with a head massage. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my head, as he stood behind me at the end of the massage table. I never thought the first time I would feel a mans hard dick would be on my head. Strange times.
I was waiting for him to ask me if I wanted a happy end. I was in no way going to have one obviously, but I just felt it coming. I would just laugh it off I planned, hopefully not embarrassing him too much. When he didn’t ask and just said “I will leave you to get ready” – and headed out the room. I couldn’t deny to myself that I felt disappointed, which got me feeling confused and the dick got soft. Did I want this guy to wank me off? Did I feel rejected? The dude was hard.
I threw on my gown, then left him to go back in and pack up. Showing him out, he winked and said – “just say next time what you want.”
I think I need to do some serious thinking about what I do actually want.