A True Story - Sex Stories

My first male massage (based on a true story)

I was in agony. My back was in spasm and I could not sit for more than five minutes nor stand for more than ten.

A close friend knew how much pain I was in and told me of an online site where I could find a masseuse willing to come to my home.

In a great deal of pain, I got online, found the site and made an appointment, 2 p.m. that same afternoon.

Slightly before 2 p.m., I heard the doorbell ring. I answered it and a tall, lean man presented himself.

"You ordered a massage? I'm here to give you some relief."

"Yes, yes, please come in. I need your help."

I was bent over in pain and had him follow me to my family room.

I said, "You can put your table up right about here. By the way, what is your name?"

"I'm Michael, and you are?"

"Travas. Please help me Michael, I am in a great deal of pain. A large tip is in the works if you can help me out of it."

Michael lightly laughed and said, "I'll do what I can. I'm pretty sure I can help you."

As Michael set up his table, I looked him over.

He was about 5'11", lean and muscular, what someone of my era might call 'rangy.' He looked to be in his early 30s. I am 50.

He had close-cropped dark hair, a close-cropped beard and sky-blue, piercing eyes. He was ridiculously handsome.

He was dressed in a tight, black T-shirt, loose, black cotton pants gathered at the ankle and black thongs.

He placed a towel on the table and asked me to remove my clothes and lay facedown.

I did as asked, then he draped a smaller towel over my midsection.

As he oiled up his hands, he said, "It shouldn't be important, but I should tell you that I'm gay."

"Your sexual preference is not important, just help me out of this pain please."

Michael worked my neck muscles, my back muscles, even getting those bothersome knots out from beneath my shoulder-blades.

He soon came to my lower-back, the problem area.

As he began to massage there, I arched back in pain.

"Hmmm, another victim of the L4-L5 vertebrae." He knew his business.

He went on, "I'm going to do the rest of your backside, then return to that area and try to relieve you of pain. But first, do you have a microwave?"

"Yes, in the kitchen."

Michel left me for a moment when I heard the distinct sound of my microwave completing a cycle.

Michael returned with a very hot pad, placing it on my lower-back.

It almost scalded me.

"Try to deal with the heat, let it get into those damaged muscles."

Michael then did as he said, going over my arms and legs and my upper-back.

Once he was through with the extremities, he removed the pad and began to work on the problem area.

He used his thumbs to massage my lower-back on either side of my spine, then he began to push deep inside, probing for the problem.

It was very painful, but very healing. I could feel those bunched up muscles begin to loosen.

He circled his thumb tips, massaging out the bound muscles.

I could feel the tension begin to fade from my back muscles, the pain greatly lessened.

Michael spent a full 30-minutes on that problem area.

It was the best I had felt in weeks.

"Better?", he asked.

"Yes, much."

"Now an ice-pack to prevent those muscles from healing too quickly."

He removed an ice-pack from a small cooler, the mist of the 'dry-ice' rising.

He placed the pack on my lower-back and let it lay there.

"While your back muscles cool down, I'm going give the other areas a second light massage."

Michael went back to my neck and shoulders, my arms and hands.

He then massaged my feet and worked his way up my legs.

As he got near the top of my inner thighs, his thumbs lightly touched my balls.

Was this accidental or was this intentional?

To test him, I slightly opened my legs, exposing myself just a tiny bit.

Michael seemed not to notice, but again worked my calves and thighs.

But... those thumbs again caressed my balls, a little longer this time.

Michael went to the other end of the table and began to massage my neck muscles.

He had to bend over to reach lower on my back.

Was there a hard cock beneath his loose pants? I felt something brush against my cheek, something living.

"Ok, please flip over."

I did as asked and the smaller towel slipped to the floor.

Michael didn't bother to pick it up, but said, "Let's do the front now."

He massaged my chest, my abdomen, my arms, wrists and hands.

He worked my feet, my calves and my thighs.

As he began to massage that joint between my legs and hips, I could feel the blood begin to move into my cock.

I peeked down and could see it begin to bounce with each pulse as it filled. Again, Michael seemed not to notice.

This was becoming frustrating. Michael was gay and I am not, but I was getting excited.

Was I not good enough for him? Was he afraid of breaking professional ethics?

Fuck it. Let's test him.

I lightly stroked myself, bringing more blood into my cock.

Michael was behind me, working over my chest and must have had a full view of my very hard cock.

He bent forward and there it was, he had a very hard cock of his own. I could see and feel it as it went by my face.

Neither of us said a word, neither of us acknowledged that anything was happening. Was anything happening?

Michale continued his massage, then did something unexpected, he simply pulled out his cock.

It was lightly touching my right cheek and though my breathing got heavy, I did not acknowledge that cock, I couldn't give him the satisfaction.

The massage went on and on, Michael's hard cock in full view, neither of us saying a single word.

I was very excited as Michael removed his shirt, then his pants, briefs and shoes. My guess was right about his body, it was covered in fine, straight, dark hair.

It was very odd, yet very exciting, neither of us speaking or acknowledging.

Michael moved to my side and applied new oil to his hands.

He began to massage my hard cock giving me the most wonderful hand-job.

Slow, fast, firm, loose. He worked the shaft, the head, the balls. His technique varied as he gauged each response.

After a bit, he returned to my head and began to give me a scalp massage.

I'm not sure why, but I slightly turned my head and opened my mouth.

Michale eased his cock into that orifice and began to gently fuck my face.

It was my first cock and I loved it.

Remember, neither of us had yet said a word.

Michael moved slightly to one side of my head, then reached down and began to jack me as I sucked him.

I sucked and cleaned, swirling my tongue around his cock-head while it was inside my mouth.

It was eery, neither of us saying anything.

Michael finally broke the silence, "Turn over and move to the end of the table."

What, what, what?

I flipped over, then he guided me as I slid down until only my body was resting on the table, my feet flat on the ground, my ass exposed.

Michael knelt down, pulled my legs slightly apart, then began to eat my ass.

I had never had that done before.

My breathing became very heavy, I was dizzy with lust, I loved this!

Michale licked and sucked, pushing his tongue deep inside of me.

He did this for ten minutes or so, then stood up.

A second phrase, "Open your ass."

I knew he wanted to fuck me. I knew I wanted him to fuck me.

I reached back and pulled my ass cheeks apart.

Michael used some of the massage oil to lube up his cock and began to enter me.

With slow, steady pressure, he pushed himself all the way into my body.

He then began a not-too-gentle assault. He fucked me with slow, deep, full strokes, his hard cock finding the bottom of my bowels.

I must have looked like a fool, this young, handsome, muscular man banging away at a man twice his age.

I didn't care.

Michale was picking up his pace when I pulled loose and turned to him.

"I don't want you to cum in my ass, will my throat do?"

Without saying anything, Michale pushed me to my knees.

He said, "Open."

I opened my mouth and Michale began to use me.

He firmly grabbed me by the head and began to fuck my face. Long, full strokes, banging away at my virgin mouth. I gagged and gagged, yet he did not stop.

My throat could finally take no more. I pushed him back and said, "I want to taste your cum, eat your cum, but may I do it my way?" and pointed at a plush chair.

Michael took the hint and sat down. He was panting and breathing heavily.

I knelt before him and began to give him a wet, slow suck-off.

I licked and sucked that cock, using my tongue on his shaft and balls. I paid special attention to the blood-filled head of that wonderful cock.

I began to fuck him with my mouth, up and down, up and down.

I could feel his cock getting even thicker, so I quicken my pace.

Up and down, up and down.

My left hand was on Michael's abdomen and I could suddenly feel the muscles compress. He was about to cum.

I pushed my face deep into his cock, taking as much of the length as I could.

I tightly gripped his balls with one hand and licked the bottom of his shaft with my tongue.

I could actually feel the head of his cock enlarge within my throat as he came.

He was shaking and spasming in the chair as he emptied his load into me.

Both of his hands tightly gripped my hair, his hips forcing his cock even deeper into my throat.

I could feel jet after jet of his cum shooting down my throat.

It was wonderful, simply wonderful.

We rested for a moment, cleaning ourselves up, then I walked him to the door.

I handed him an envelope containing much more than we had agreed upon.

He handed me a card and said, "My private number is on the back. Call me any time. The next one is on the house."

Likes & Comments