Massage Archives

Feeling Like a Kid Among Adults

I went to Body Electric in Berkeley, California to try out their Thursday night tantric male massage sessions. I had a great time. There were about 40 men there. We all got naked, then broke into random groups of three. Each group surrounded a massage table. We each got a 20-minute massage from the other two guys. The massages started with a perfunctory general massage, but soon turned into genital massage. But this was a ‘tantric’ thing. I didn’t really understand the philosophy. The general idea seemed to be that one can, probably even should, become erect, but not ejaculate. For me, it was difficult to avoid orgasming, but I managed to hold off for the full twenty minutes when it was my turn. I really enjoyed massaging the other two guys as well. I went home horny and charged up. It was an interesting experience. I felt clearer than usual, as if colors were brighter, quiet sounds more noticeable, and smells more interesting.

Of course as soon as I got home, I wanked and ejaculated big-time, but even still, I felt slightly better than average the whole next day.

I returned a week later and participated in another three-way massage. Before starting, I asked the instructor whether it would be OK to forego the general massage portion, and have the guys go right into the genital massage when it was my turn. He said that was fine. I then asked if it was OK to ejaculate. I expected some lecture about how that’s not within the paradigm of what they’re doing there. Instead, he said that’s just fine also. I also asked to go last, because I knew what might happen. If I was first or second, and then I ejaculated, I would loose interested in massaging the other guys.

So, I went last. When it was my turn, I came after about ten minutes, and immediately felt foolish. Worse, I still had ten minutes to go. The guys tried to keep me hard and interested, but frankly, the last ten minutes, while not quite torture, were less than ideal as I went soft, and was quite bothered by the ongoing touch.

Bottom line: I felt like a stupid kid among adults after doing that. I’m slowly learning in life that most people have reasons for what they do. Being a rebel, trying to do things differently, is not always the best way to do things.

Butler With Benefits

I’ll admit I’m quite wealthy. It started with my great-grandfather, who was a cobbler during the great depression. It turns out that repair businesses did well while everyone else suffered. People couldn’t buy new shoes, so he had lots of customers.

He invested the money in buying the building he was in and charging rent to the other small retail businesses in his building. Then he bought more buildings. You can imagine that his children and their children, and finally my generation have followed his footsteps and all done very, very well in commercial real estate. For four generations, our family has also been heavily philanthropic. Don’t worry, we can afford it! It’s more than just philanthropy. It’s a love for all humans – and animals. I was taught to be polite, kind and caring to everyone since I was a baby.

So, here I am, otherwise a typical trust-fund baby. For instance, on my 18th birthday, I was given a hotel. A one-hundred-eleven room hotel at 111 Broadway. Really! I didn’t pay much attention to it. I have managers, lawyers and accountants to take care of all that.

I was also given something else on my 18th birthday. My ‘man,’ that’s what I call my butler, who has been with me for 8 years. Jonathan used to work directly for my father. He is a sort of combination chauffeur, personal assistant and dresser. He arranges my air travel, handles my email, and even selects my clothing in the morning. That way, I can spend more time on business. I mean, I could retire right now, and just live off my assets. But somehow, my family has got me so trained to stay focused on growing ‘the business’ as they call it, that I can’t imagine doing anything else. Well, I did go to college and get an MBA, but that was just part of focusing on the business. It’s all about philanthropy and I can do it better with even more money, right?

But anyway, back to my 18th birthday. So that evening, Jonathan comes in and says he has something he wants to tell me. I figured he was going to give me some cufflinks or something. And even though Jonathan and I have become close friends, I was thinking, OK, I’ll be polite and graciously accept whatever birthday gift he has for me.

But no! He tells me he used to perform a certain service for my father. He didn’t quite explain it at first. I was starting to imagine the worst. Like even though my father is a very morally correct and kind man, I was thinking, “What kind of service? Eviction agent? Supplier of drugs? Hit man?”

He slowly, and somewhat embarrassingly explained the service. He said that for a while before my father was married, he was so involved in business that he didn’t have time for dating. Plus, most of the women who came into his life were gold diggers. So Jonathan took care of my father’s sexual needs. I was thinking, ‘You mean, he procures prostitutes?’

But no, it was something more direct. Then I understood! Jonathan was satisfying my father’s needs directly! He was giving him handjobs! Geez! Some things you don’t want to hear. I was simultaneously, fascinated and grossed out. But something else too. I started to feel a certain rising feeling in my penis. My god, I was getting erect just hearing about Jonathan giving my dad handjobs.

Jonathan went on to explain that my dad continued to receive occasional hand jobs after he was married. And get this, sometimes Jonathan gave my mother clit jobs and even sucked her clit. He just came out and told me that.

In a way, I shouldn’t have been surprised. My parents have always been open and experimental about sex. Like, we went to nude beaches occasionally since before I can remember. And, I have accidentally seen my parents having sex, which didn’t seem to faze them. And they have caught me wanking. Which also didn’t seem to faze them. But Jonathan, that was shocking news!

So here’s the deal. Jonathan told me in no uncertain terms that if I’d like handjobs, that is part of the service he offers. (And all for $130,000/year. I should give him a raise).

For the first few weeks after I turned 18, I did not take him up on his offer. Then one evening, after flirting unsuccessfully with a beautiful Asian girl who is my mother’s secretary, I was all horned up, and Jonathan talked me into trying his ‘service.’ It was a bit awkward at first. In order to make me comfortable, as I stripped, so did he. This is Jonathan I’m talking about. I’ve never seen him without his tie, his immaculate jacket and pressed pants, and polished shoes. Turns out he is a great looking guy for a 50-year old. Slim, just a bit shorter than me at 5’7,” and with that beautiful African ancestry. I’m only half-African, approximately.

It’s not true what they say about all black men having big dicks. His is average size, or maybe even a bit less, pretty much like mine, although he is not circumcised and I am.

Anyway, he did give me a beautiful handjob that evening. Even though I didn’t touch his dick at all – he said he didn’t want reciprocation, he did get nicely erect, which I enjoyed seeing. Jonathan has wanked me a hundred times since. Somehow, he always brings something interesting to the table. In all the times he has jerked me off, no two have been the same. And, he seems to read my mood. Sometimes I like something kind of rough, like rubbing the palm of his hand over my glans to make me squirm. Sometimes he is so gentle, I can hardly tell if he is touching my frenulum or not – what a fantastic tickling sensation that is! Sometimes he massages my balls very light and lovingly. Sometimes he squishes the hell out of them, which I absolutely enjoy when I’m in the right mood. Sometimes, I jerk him off. That’s right, I enjoy giving as much as getting, and he really does like the reciprocation.

There have been a few women in my life. Jonathan’s service doesn’t interfere at all. In fact, I told my best friend (with benefits) Susan about Jonathan’s service, and she wanted to see it. So one evening after coming home from the office, there was Susan and Jonathan on the sofa, naked as the day they were born. She as white as vanilla ice cream, he as dark as the best chocolate. They were idly stroking each others genitals as I arrived, and the invitation was obvious. We all masturbated together in a great big pile of happiness.

Well, that’s enough rambling from me for now. Have fun, and I hope all your families can become as successful as mine has been.

Proper Testicle Massage

We have emailed each other on occasion and you know that I actually am a true masturbationist. You have mentioned in some of your stories about testicular massage. Since that would fit right into the services I already offer my clients, I’d like to learn exactly how to do this for guys.

Are you aware of any websites that have video training about how to give a man a good testicle massage? I don’t want to hurt any of my clients, (unless that’s what they are into) so I want a legitimate source from which to learn the technique.

Thanks for any help you can give me.

—————-

I don’t know of any websites that offer information on the techniques of testicular massage.

I have given and received several in my life. The only thoughts I have that might be helpful:

Avoid pressing on the area where the spermatic cord attaches. That is sensitive, and could possibly cause injury. However testicles in general are very tough. They’re rubbery with a thick outer layer, much like uncooked chicken gizzards. You probably can’t injure testicles with just your fingers, although if you squeeze really hard, most clients will not be happy.

Most guys who claim they only want a light touch, seem to like a heavy touch. However, you have to work up to it slowly.

It is most helpful if they can be erect during the massage. It makes them far more receptive to anything you want to do.

Most men come into a situation like this with a degree of concern. I think it’s important to let them know that some will get erect, some won’t, it’s not necessarily a gay thing – for those who would worry about that, and that it’s been done to millions of men for thousands of years.

However, there’s the concept of therapeutic massage, in which sexual excitement is not supposed to be part of the process. I think there are some guys who would like this, although my guess is they are fooling themselves. Like going to a nude beach and saying it’s not a sexually exciting event, a testicle massage probably has a sexual component for everyone.

I like to start with a very feather-light stroking of the midline of the scrotum, or just the hairs on the scrotum. Try it on yourself. It’s important to understand just how light this should be to have maximum effect. When done properly it is a delicious kind of tickle. You may have some clients who are extremely ticklish. Perhaps for those men, you should not touch lightly, but immediately cup their balls in your warm hands.

The light tickling can optionally be extended to the frenulum of the penis. Don’t be surprised to see an immediate erection if not already erect, and the penis may jump a centimeter at the beginning of each stroke.

Next, you might try some light ball slapping. Some clients will like this, while others may not care for it at all. Some may ask you to intensify the slapping until you are really hitting them hard.

The techniques I use vary, but one of the standards is to grab both balls at the same time, one between the thumb and first two fingers of each hand, pulling slightly toward the bottom of the scrotum and pressing and holding for a long time.

A great variation is to continually roll or squish the balls back and forth a few millimeters in your grip, or press harder and less hard rhythmically.

Another is using the same grip, you repeatedly let the balls slip out of your fingers, like wet bars of soap. The men will generally flinch or jump a little bit when this happens, but most enjoy it tremendously.

Some men get a lot out of simple scrotum massage. They don’t want or need their actual balls massaged as much as just touching of their scrotums.

One thing I enjoy is scrotum pulling. Stretch that skin out and hold it for a while by grabbing with both hands, being careful not to engage your fingernails.

When a testicle massage done right – with as much pressure as you can apply without hurting your client, the person comes away with a delicious feeling of slight heaviness in their balls that lasts for an hour or two afterward. I believe that the men actually have a greater sense of well-being, feel physically stronger, and see the world in brighter colors for several days afterward. However, this condition is generally so slight for many men that it’s hard to notice.

Non-Sexual Male-Male Testicle Massage

So I heard through the grapevine that there’s this fellow who does a wonderful testicle massage. While I consider myself mostly straight, I was told I really ought to make an appointment with this guy, his work is supposedly fantastic.

So, I made the appointment. He was to come to my house on Friday at 2pm. I waited the three days until Friday with mixed, but rather strong feelings. One was a bit of fear. What did I get myself into? The other was absolute horny excitement.

Finally, 2:10pm Friday, a knock on my apartment door. He came in, dragging a massage table and sheets. I closed all the curtains, and told him we have to be quiet. I didn’t want my neighbors to know exactly what was going on. If they thought I was getting an ordinary massage, that would be good enough for me.

This fellow was about 5’10’, about 60 years old, balding, a touch on the heavy side, and as ordinary-looking as can be. Not a sexual turn-on by any stretch of the imagination, for me, at least.

He had an assuring personality. I don’t know why exactly, but I calmed down right away. Perhaps he used some hypnotic suggestion to help me get in the right state.

And so, he started with about 10 minutes of what was an ordinary, although somewhat perfunctory massage. While I was on my stomach, among the other things he did was brush his fingertips over the back inside edges of my thighs. This gave me a semi-hardon.

When it was time to flip over, I was concerned about him seeing me partially erect. He assured me. ‘Most of my clients get hardons at various parts of the massage, and any state at any time is absolutely normal. Some have erections even before we start. Some stay soft the whole time.’

So, after flipping over – totally naked by the way, and him seeing my hardon for a few minutes, I became totally OK with it, as he worked on my arms, shoulders, feet, and worked up my legs. The hardon became harder, probably mostly because I knew what he was here for-a testicle massage, after all!

And then, slowly, ever so slowly, he essentially tickled my sack. But it wasn’t ticklish. It was, well… wonderful. The tickling lasted a very long time, several minutes at least. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard without having my dick touched directly.

I noticed that the tickling became a bit firmer. Yes, hmmm, he was fondling my balls. He was very gently squeezing each one at the same time, one in each hand. Sort of a pulsing method. Beautiful! I’ve never felt anything quite like it!

But he wasn’t done yet. He told me that he would slowly squeeze harder and harder, and I was to let him know how much was too much.

It was a very complete testicle massage. He handled them this way and that. Generally one in each hand at the same time. Generally symmetrically, but sometimes in an alternating pattern. Often the pulsing, but all sorts of other rubbing and squeezing. Sometimes, he did hit that limit at which I had to say, ‘ah, a little lighter, please.’ But, I was surprised how much squeezing I could take. And, like the expert he evidently is, he never hit the sensitive spots that would have been painful.

And then it happened. Without him ever touching my penis, I ejaculated! It was one of the most amazing orgasms of my life. And afterward, I was still hard and wanting more.

He didn’t give much more. A few minutes of very gentle fondling as I cooled down. He helped me get up, thanked me, collected his $120, and was gone – just like that!

I jerked off just moments after he left and came again.

The next day, I noticed something that I can only call a ‘healthy glow’ feeling in my balls. It’s like I notice they are there – I can feel them. It’s almost a horny feeling, but no, something different, almost a feeling of youth or some kind of special fitness. Go figure! $120 is a lot, but I went ahead and called him to schedule another appointment for this Friday.

In summary, I can say it isn’t really a sexual thing. It’s more like sensual. Very sensual. It wouldn’t have mattered who gave me that massage. Could have been male or female, any age, any weight, etc.

He never explicitly said so, but I believe his attitude is that it is a theraputic massage, one for health, and if the client happens to enjoy it on another level, well, that’s just fine with him. And if an ejaculation happens, it is just part of the process.

If you ever have a chance to get a testicle massage from an expert in the field, I highly recommend it!

Tantric Tease

On Tuesday mornings I go to this woman. She’s a massage practitioner. When I started with her, it was just ordinary. Oh, it was nice, but ordinary. For the first few weeks, I kept my guard up, which means I kept my penis down. Whereas if I hadn’t been careful, I might have had an erection.

Then one week, while she was working on my back side, I did have an erection. Like an adolescent, I willed it to go down but of course it wasn’t happening. She asked me to roll over. I couldn’t keep the little towel on it, so she saw my condition. She said nothing, ignoring my erection, hidden under the little towel again. Although, at one point, she did work her hands under the edges of the tented towel, touching my upper thighs, which was electrifying. My erection persisted all the way through to the end of the massage. While she sat at her little desk doing the little bit of paperwork, I had to remove the towel to put my clothes back on. She did glance at me, saying only, “That’s a sign that you’re healthy.’

The next week she asked whether I felt the need for the towel at all. I kind of did. It made me feel more secure somehow, but what did I tell her? Right, I said ‘No, I don’t need it.’

Maybe it was the lack of the towel that set me off, but I was erect right from the start of the massage. She acted entirely normal, as if an erection during a massage was the same as having ears. It’s just the way people, or at least men, are.

Same thing the week after that, except she brushed her fingertips over my scrotum a time or two, and once, I felt her fingertips touch my penis for a brief moment. I wondered whether that was on purpose.

The week after that things really changed. It was business as usual for 58 minutes. Then at the end, she literally focused on my genitals. She lightly massaged my balls for a good two minutes. As she did so, she started squeezing harder and harder. It started to hurt – not very much, but it was verging on uncomfortable. I was like, “Woah'” but she said it was good for me, and told me that I’d feel especially invigorated for the rest of the day. My penis was so fucking hard I can’t even express it. It was as erect as it had ever been in my life. Putting my pants on was difficult.

Helen was right. I did feel especially invigorated the rest of the day. My balls felt, for lack of a better explanation, pleasantly heavy. I could sense their weight in my scrotum. But more than that, I was pleasantly, but not overly horny, and I felt more aware. Sounds were more interesting, colors were brighter. I swore I’d never stop going to my Tuesday 10am appointments. Helen was magical.

The next week, it was the testicle massage again, but this time, she started handling my penis too. It wasn’t quite a handjob, and I left frustrated. At the point she finished, I really wanted to ejaculate. Needless to say, I took my happily heavy balls home, stripped in my bedroom and jacked off big time.

This went on week after week, but the end of the massage was evolving. Now, the main massage was lasting about 40 minutes, and the entire last 20 minutes was devoted to the genital action. Now, the handjobs were real. However, I never ejaculated. Helen was an expert. She could take me right to the point where orgasm was inevitable, but she knew exactly when to stop. Sometimes she’d let go in the nick of time, and my penis would pulse and wave in the air with a couple of dry contractions, as if I was going to cum, but I didn’t. At the end of each session, she tells me not to jerk off for at least six hours. I obey happily, because the bright sparkly way I feel after her treatments is just amazing. I wouldn’t want to wreck it.

And that’s the way it has remained to this day. She calls her technique ‘The Tantric Tease.’ She tells me that if I were to ejaculate, her treatments would be something sexual and illegal. But as long as she does what she does, it’s entirely ‘non-sexual.’ I doubt her interpretation of the law, but I’m not going to say anything!

Sore Back

On the job, just goofing around with new kneepads, I thought I could bang down on my knees. It didn’t hurt my knees. Instead, it hurt my back. I didn’t think much about it, but by the end of the day it was becoming annoyingly sore. Kyle, my boss, suggested I get a massage, and said he’d pay for it.

I told him I didn’t know any massage practitioners, and wouldn’t know how to get a good one. He suggested his massage practitioner. In fact, before I could say anything, he was on his phone making a 6pm appointment for me.

Oh, well, I was getting a massage. I showed up, and Sally turned out to be a fantastic, thin long-haired blond woman with small hips and large breasts. This is the kind of woman you see in the movies, not in real life! I reminded myself to behave, not get crazy around her.

Sally invited me to her back room which was nicely decorated with some tapestries hanging all around, smelling vaguely of incense, and lit only by a half-dozen candles.

She invited me to take off all my clothes and climb on the table. I was a bit reluctant, feeling something weird, like taking my clothes off was naughty or something, but I did as I was told. I figured she’d seen a lot of naked men before, so any shyness on my part would be stupid.

She had me lay face down. She started in on my shoulders. I asked why, since it was my back that was hurting. She said a full massage works better than just going right to the ‘part.’ The way she emphasized the word ‘full’ was kind of curious.

She was a little rough on my shoulders, kind of surprising from such a slender women. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t quite hurt, but it was close to hurting. She went over most of the rest of my body the same way. When she got to my calves, she pressed in really hard, and that did hurt.

I was almost at the point of ending the massage early. It wasn’t feeling good at all, and my fucking back was still hurting. I only stayed because I didn’t want to insult the woman.

Finally, she started in on my back, and in my opinion, she only hurt it worse. Damn her.

After an interminable time, she asked me to roll over. I didn’t want to. Somehow, in massaging my back, my penis had become erect. I hesitated. Sally obviously knew what the problem was because she simply said, “No worries, I’ve seen it all.”

So I rolled over. What else could I do? My penis was fully erect. This surprised me, because nothing sexual had happened at all.

Ignoring the erection entirely, she started massaging the front of me. I was kind of tensed up, figuring she’d be hurting the front of me like she had hurt all of my back side. But no, on my front, she was surprisingly gentle. She did my arms, then to my surprise, she massaged my fingers and the palms of my hands. I have to say, that actually felt rather nice. Plus, there was something more. Having such a beautiful young woman giving me attention of any sort was remarkably delightful.

My penis stayed erect. In fact, glancing down, I saw that it was so erect that it was sticking straight up and pulsing with every heartbeat, something that seldom happens with me.

She went to my feet and massaged them. It felt rather nice. Then my ankles, my calves, and my thighs, still totally ignoring my erection. I was kind of wishing she might touch it, but of course that was just fantasy.

Well, the next thing she did wasn’t quite what I expected. She didn’t touch my erection. Instead, she kind of pushed my legs apart, so my lower legs were dangling over the edges of the table. Then she started very gently massaging my scrotum. No one had ever done that, and I have to say it was exquisite. She could be excused from all the rest of the massage that had hurt me. This was nice! Soon, she was massaging my balls within my scrotum. I started wincing, remembering how rough she had been with my shoulders and everything, but no, she stayed gentle, and it was just remarkably wonderful.

I figured if nothing more happened, this would be a great massage. But again Sally surprised me. As casually as grabbing a bicycle handlebar, she wrapped her hand around my super-hard penis and started jerking me off. I was absolutely delighted. Like a teenager, I came within about five strokes. I came big, shooting cum several inches into the air. She smiled but didn’t say anything, as if this was business as usual, and perhaps it was for her.

For a second, I realized my boss must have been receiving the same treatment from her. I decided to get that thought out of my mind. Well, fuck it, I didn’t care. If it made him happy, I was just glad for him. Then, I kind of wondered what his penis looked like. Weird, eh?

Sally allowed me a couple minutes to recover then I got up off the table to dress. I was almost shocked to discover my back wasn’t hurting, or at least not very much.

I probably don’t have to tell you, I booked another appointment with her. And then a week later another. It’s been going on for a couple months now. My wife knows I’m getting these massages, assuming my back must still be sore. It isn’t, but I haven’t told her, and of course, I haven’t told her any of the details of the massage. I wonder if when my wife gets her massages, they’re a female version of a happy ending. I hope so.

Sore Back Massage

I customize motorhomes for a living. One day, I was carrying a countertop I had just built. It was 96 inches long, and I had to maneuver it carefully into the narrow coach. I must have bent just the wrong way and I felt such a tweak in my back I almost dropped the countertop and myself to the floor.

By late afternoon, my back was still bothering me. I’d had some minor back trouble before and knew massages can help tremendously. My old practitioner was no longer available, so not knowing any better, I booked someone that one of the guys who works for me recommended.

When I arrived, I discovered a somewhat heavyset woman in her early sixties, approximately twice my age. Well, massage isn’t a sexual thing, so I didn’t care about her looks.

Linda introduced herself with a comforting smile and asked whether I wanted to be draped or not. That’s the first time a massage practitioner asked me that, but I didn’t think much about it. I’m not a prude or anything, so thinking the towel would only get in the way and have to be fussed with, I chose fully nude.

She got to work on me and did a good job. When I got on the table, my back was hurting. When she asked me to roll over, the back pain was already gone.

On my front, she massaged my head, my face, my arms, even my hands, which felt nice. There was something almost sexual about having my palms massaged. She put her full considerable weight into it, and she stayed with my palms for a good minute or two. I was enjoying that so much that I didn’t notice my penis had hardened. She stroked my chest a little bit, ran her hands down my sides, over the sides of my butt, then down to my thighs, knees, ending at my feet, resuming approximately the same thing she had done on my palms.

Suddenly, with great alarm, I realized my penis was sticking straight up to its full six inches. Usually when I’m hard and laying down, my penis is against my stomach. Only when it’s very hard does it stick up like that.

Totally embarrassed, I apologized to Linda. She said ‘Da nada,’ and kept right on working on my feet. My penis continued in its hardness, pulsing with my heartbeat.

Linda moved back up my lower legs, then my thighs, then to my total surprise, she pushed my legs apart a little bit, and started gently massaging my scrotum.

“You like?”

I hadn’t wanted this to be anything sexual, but by then it was too late. I was hooked, so I said, “Oh yes!”

She ran her fingers ever so lightly up the length of my dick twice. Then, she did something with her fingertips. She just sort of wiggled them on the very tip of my penis. Then she went on to gently rub my stomach, chest, neck, ending with a second face massage.

I thought she was going to make me cum, which I was really wanting, but she didn’t. And being shy like I am, I didn’t ask, even though part of me would have begged her to give me a happy ending.

She left the room. I composed myself and dressed, noticing that I could stand straight again with no pain. I also noticed it was a bit difficult to get my pants zipped around a still hard penis. I paid her plus a generous tip. The RV customization business pays well, so I tipped her generously.

I’m not one to keep secrets from Katie, my wife, so I told her all about it. I was concerned she’d be mad, like it was my idea to get erect in front of the old lady. But to my surprise, telling Katie about it made her horny and she gave me a wonderful handjob, finishing what Linda had started, not with her hands, but with her pussy.

Something about the unexpected massage had me so horned up, that even with Katie’s love, I jerked off later the same night, remembering the experience. I also got on her website and booked another appointment.

When I got there the following week, I was all smiles, expecting a happy ending. She massaged me again, and toward the end, once again, she spent some time in gently massaging my balls and then paid some attention my erect penis. But again, no finish. She was teasing me, and I loved it!

Once again, I told Katie, and once again it made her horny. We did what couples do, we fucked our heads off!

This went on for several weeks. Katie actually encouraged me to go back to Linda.

Linda added only one more thing to the routine. In the earlier part of the massage, while still on my stomach, she’ll brush her fingertips so lightly on the back of my scrotum it almost tickled, but it is really nice. Then, she’d stroke up and down my asscrack, also very lightly. Finally, she would circle her fingertips around my anus for a long time. As if I wasn’t already hard as a rock!

Every week, it was the very light touch of my super-erect penis, but no happy ending. Sometimes I’d get a pre-orgasmic feeling, like I was about to cum. She was an expert and always stoped just in the nick of time. I was loving it.

These massages would have gone on to this day, but a couple of years ago, Linda announced her retirement.

Middle School Naked Wrestling

Another story from a client:

I was on the middle school wrestling team. In the locker room, we’d put on our cups, singlets and helmets. Mostly we wouldn’t see each other naked, but I’d get a glimpse from time to time, which terribly excited me. We’d wrestle for 45 minutes, then back to the locker room. Taking off our stuff, we’d then step into the showers, individual booths. Most of the guys were pretty skilled at covering themselves at all times with their towels, but again, I’d get a glimpse from time to time. In the shower, I’d get hard, and jerk off. I was constantly on the look out for someone who might burst into my shower. Not that anyone would actually do that. It would have been a terrible breach of etiquette, and the guy would be called ‘gay,’ but I was still concerned about getting caught, so I’d wank quickly, releasing my few boyish drops of clear cum into the streaming shower water. This whole business of masturbation was still new and exciting to me.

One time, I saw Larry stepping into the shower. He had carelessly let his towel slip away before he closed the door. He had an erection! I jerked off immediately in my own shower, unable to take my eyes off what I had just seen.

Besides the vague adolescent sexuality of the scene, I really enjoyed wrestling. Oh, sure, sometimes it hurt if I got an elbow to the face or pulled a muscle sideways or something, but I loved it. It was camaraderie, it was strength, it was guy stuff. Also, being on the wrestling team was an ego booster. The other kids at school looked up to me for that. I didn’t tell any of them that making the team was as easy as showing up for the first practice. Anyone could qualify, although I doubt many of them would have come back for a second practice, once they learned how strenuous it was. And, how personal, too. You get really close to other boys. I could imagine that some would be way too shy, others too homophobic.

Phil’s mom said he could invite some guys over to his basement recreation room for additional wrestling practice. He was a latchkey kid, so it’s surprising that she allowed this.

The first afternoon, there were four of us. We wrestled around on his thick basement carpet, and had a good time. Since there was no locker room or showers, we just went home sweaty.

We started meeting regularly on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons after school. One time, Larry asked if he could use Phil’s shower. Phil was like, “Sure, I guess so,” leading him to the little basement bathroom.

To my delight, Phil took off his stuff, and there he stood, as naked as the day he was born before us. As casually as if he was at home, he stepped into Phil’s shower, while the rest of us clumped upstairs to the living room. A few minutes later, Larry came upstairs, all fresh and dressed. We put on our boots, hats and jackets and went home.

The next time, both Larry and Jimmy wanted to use the shower. Phil explained that this bathroom had it’s own small water heater, so they couldn’t take showers one after the other. The water would turn cold. He didn’t think his mom would like them using the upstairs shower. ‘We’ll just take one together,’ Larry said, acting like ‘no big deal.’

Possibly turning a bit red in the face, James said, ‘sure.’

Both of them took off their clothes in front of us. Phil said, ‘Hey, let’s see if we can all cram in.’

In a way, that was nothing special. Wrestlers learn not to be afraid of being close together. But naked! That was something else entirely. James immediately agreed, as did Larry, so what could I do? I wanted to very much. At the same time, I was somehow afraid. Like I’d be doing naughty wrong or something. Plus, they’d see my dick, and probably make fun of me. Could I help it if I didn’t have any hair yet?

Well, there was nothing I can do so I took off my stuff too, and sure enough, we found that we could all fit in the little shower. Phil’s thigh was pressed against my crotch, and it felt surprisingly good. It shouldn’t have felt like anything, but I was in some sort of immediate heaven. And my penis started to rise. ‘Oh no,’ I thought. I would get teased for the rest of my life if I ended up popping a boner with these guys. Just as I was thinking that, I happened to glimpse Larry’s crotch area, and to my shock and surprise, he was sporting a full erection.

I felt immediate relief. During the next few minutes, all four of us sprang boners. No one said anything. No one did anything. We finished our shower, hurriedly, as the water started running cold, got dressed, said our goodbye’s and went home.

The Thursday session went the same way. We wrestled, then we all got naked and jumped in Phil’s shower again until the water ran cold. Every one of us had an erection. We ignored them entirely, got dressed and went home. I don’t know about the others, but as soon as I got home and had some privacy from my brother and sisters, I jerked off like a maniac .

I couldn’t wait for Tuesday. We all arrived at Phil’s ten minutes early, so it was obvious to me we were all excited.

We started wrestling as usual, but you could tell our minds weren’t in it. I’m sure everyone was thinking the same thing: ‘We can’t wait until we get to shower together.’

Larry broke away from Phil who he had been wrestling at the moment, and James and I stopped because he seemed to want to get our attention.

“Uh…” he started, then paused.

“What?” Phil asked impatiently.

“Well, you know how the Greek Olympians competed nude?”

We had recently heard about that in Social Studies class, and found it very interesting.

“Yeah?” I think we all knew where was going with this.

“Would it be terribly… I mean, would it…”

“You want to wrestle naked?” James asked, incredulous.

“Well, no, not exactly…”

“Huh?” I chimed in.

“I mean, well… yeah, OK,” James finished, as if it hadn’t been his idea.

“No way.” I said, and immediately regretted. Shit. Now I had to fix it, because there was nothing in the world I’d like more, and this was my opportunity. Maybe the only opportunity I’d have for the rest of my life. (Adolescents exaggerate, even to themselves.)

“Maybe it would be OK. I mean, since there are no girls here. and we’re not gay or anything.” I had to add that last part, even though at the time I had very serious doubts about myself that sometimes kept me up at night.

“Right, we’re not gay,” Phil seconded.

“If you guys are crazy enough to do it, then I guess I will have to, also,” was James’ way of acquiescing.

It was Phil who first removed all his stuff, helmet, and cup too, revealing an already hard penis. It was quite large, or so it seemed in comparison to mine. He also had significant wisps of black hair along the upper edge. My hairless penis was standing out as hard as it had ever been.

Soon, the four of us were wrestling and having the most wonderful time! We were laughing and carrying on. For the first time ever, we had a four-guy wrestle. Essentially, we were just all rolling around on the floor together in one big clump.

Everyone was rock hard, and everyone was ignoring their erections. As the afternoon turned into evening, we knew we had to get dressed and head home. Phil’s parents would be coming home soon, and they couldn’t see us like this.

It took us several more weeks before we got up the gumption to actually touch each others genitals. Oh, there were the occasional slips, which may not have been slips at all. I’d feel a guy’s fingers touch my anus for a second. I’d find myself with my boner pushed up against a guy’s knee. All very exciting stuff to us at that age.

It was our new guy, Carl, who broke the ice. Carl was a short, nerdish guy, a year younger than us, who just begged and begged Phil to let him join our group once he heard about what was going on. James was supposed to keep our group a secret, but I guess he just couldn’t hold it in.

Wrestling with five guys means someone always has to wait between sessions. Carl wasn’t much of a wrestler, always getting pinned almost immediately. However, he was funny, and strangely became somewhat of a leader after we got to know him. He was always suggesting ideas, which we’d end up trying. Like one afternoon, he got us all doing yoga and standing on our heads. He thought we could eventually learn to walk on our hands as a show of strength.

I liked Carl because he was the only one besides me who was totally hairless ‘down there.’

So, this one afternoon, Carl started talking about how athletes always have trainers. We asked what trainers do, and he explained that the trainer mostly massages them.

“Why would anyone want that?” James asked.

Carl explained, “Unless you’ve had it done, you wouldn’t know.”

“OK, wise ass, massage me,” was James retort.

“OK, I will.”

While the rest of us watched, Carl had James lay on Phil’s downstairs sofa, and rubbed his shoulders and back a bit. Then his calves. James said that it did indeed feel ‘sort of nice.’

Carl then had him roll over, so he could massage James’ front.

James had a huge erection, You could tell that his penis was straining at full capacity since the head was stretched tight and shiny. That wasn’t particularly unusual. The five of us frequently had erections while wrestling. We never did anything about it. I was guessing they all went home and jacked, just like I did.

The three of us watching all had boners too. Carl continued to rub James’ ankles, then his shins, then his thighs. While muttering quietly, ‘they say testicle massage is good for one’s health,’ he then, without asking, just started massaging James’ balls.

You’d think James would protest, but no, he was like, “Ohhh, that’s great!”

It was only a few seconds later that we saw his cock start jerking up and down, and he shot several spurts of white cum onto his belly.

No one said a word. The three of us watching had big eyes, and our boners were sticking straight out in front of us as huge as ever.

Finally, James said, “That was amazing!”

The following weeks saw us practically abandon the wrestling. After a few minutes, we’d all be massaging each other in various combinations. It didn’t take long for that to transmute into out-and-out handjobs. The first time Phil stuck his finger in my ass, I came immediately.

We were very disappointed when Phil’s dod got a job in Michigan and they moved out.

The four of us who remained tried desperately to find another place for our ‘wrestling club,’ but we could not manage to find a place. We had a bit of a fort in the woods, but in the winter that was no good. In the summer, it seemed everyone knew about the fort, so we couldn’t do it there.

Time went on. I jerked off often remembering the great times in the wrestling club.

For the first year I was married, I didn’t tell my wife, Rosa, about it. One day, during a bit of pillow talk, I spilled the beans, expecting she’d be disgusted, or something. However, I wasn’t one to keep secrets from her, and this was the only one that remained. So I told her, and she laughingly hit me on the back of the head with a pillow. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

It made her very horny, and I think that’s the night Nicole was conceived. As our kids Nicole and Jerome were growing into adolescence, I encouraged them whenever it looked like they might like to join a club with their friends.

Rosa has taken a strong interest in dancing. We installed a pole in the basement, ostensibly for Rosa to play on for my entertainment. But, I wouldn’t mind if Nicole and her friends were to try it out.

Jerome is quite the little wrestler, just like his dad. I let Jerome know that he could have his friends over in our downstairs recreation room when Rosa and I go to our bridge club on Wednesday evenings. I told him about how when I was a kid, I used to meet with my friends and wrestle at Phil’s house. Of course I didn’t give him any details. He and his friends will figure that out for themselves.

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Massage Guy

I consider myself fairly typical, and shy away from weird stuff. Normally.

I worked in a call center supporting accounting software. At the next desk sat a guy who was rather outrageous. Between calls, we’d talk, and he’d shock me with his exploits, many of which I suspected were made up. He had no qualms about letting me, and everyone in the office, know he’s bisexual, enjoys masturbation, and all the things a person would admit, if one felt one could.

His conversations frequently came back to this man he talked about. He was some sort of massage practitioner. He did what were called ‘men’s invigorating massages.’ Evidently, there was some penis handling involved. My coworker kept telling me I ought to check this practitioner out.

Because it was the last thing on earth I’d ever do, I started thinking about it. Couldn’t get it out of my mind. I started telling myself that perhaps I’m too shy, too conservative, too stuck in the mud, so maybe, just maybe I should… No, that’s crazy.

So, I’m sure you guessed by now that I went to the practitioner. His office was I suppose normal for a massage practitioner. I’ve never had any sort of professional massage, so I had no idea what to expect. The guy was short, balding, clean-shaven, and probably in his late fifties. Not exactly a sexual god. He had a nice smile and an inviting manner, however, so I figured the massage wouldn’t be horrible. But why was my heart beating a hundred miles per hour?

He had me strip totally naked. Already my shyness was making me really nervous, and my heart was still beating fast, but I did as he said. Then he had me lay face down on his table, and he put a small towel over my butt.

He started with what I assume was a normal massage of my neck, shoulders, upper arms, lower arms, feet, ankles, calves, and thighs. Then he simply took the towel off my butt, so I was laying entirely naked on his table. He massaged my butt, and it felt rather nice. In fact, the whole massage felt nice. I decided that I might like massages.

He commanded me to roll over, dropping the towel across my crotch area, and massaged the front of me in the same way. The whole thing, front and back, couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes. I would have figured it was over, but of course I had remembered my coworker’s conversation. He didn’t come right out and say this man would manipulate my genitals, but pretty well indicated that would happen.

Oddly, I was hoping so. Looking forward to it. In fact, I was dreading the possibility that my friend had made it up, or that this practitioner would only do his special treatment for established clients, or something like that.

I needn’t have worried. After stopping to put some more warm oil on his hands and pull the little towel off me, he then nonchalantly lifted up my scrotum. Then he started massaging and pulling on the skin of my ballsack with his oily hands, letting it slowly slip through his fingertips. I had never in my life felt such a thing. My penis became instantly hard.

It felt a bit naughty, like having an erection was somehow wrong under such circumstances. On the other hand, it was entirely out of my control. I’d like to see you stay soft with that happening to your scrotum.

The man continued, but he was sort of catching my balls in each grab of my scrotum. He’d reach higher up, lightly pinching each testicle between thumb and forefingers, then pull slowly downward, until the testicles slipped away like a wet bar of soap, leaving him holding a pinch of empty scrotum in each hand. He repeated it several times, each time getting firmer and firmer.

I was about to stop him, telling him it was hurting, but then decided the slight pain he was causing was far outweighed by the amazing good feeling it was generating.

He quit doing that all too soon, even though it was probably a full eight or ten minutes.

Suddenly, he grabbed my fully erect penis, and rubbed an oily palm directly across the tip. I practically jumped out of my skin. If you’ve never had that done, it’s something you’ve got to experience! Yes, it made me jump, but there was something exquisite about it.

The treatment went on about another twenty minutes. I’d get several seconds of the testicle massage, followed by just a second or two of that glans rubbing thing. Then he’d stretch the skin of my penis downward – firmly. It almost hurt, but not quite. On several occasions, I started feeling that ‘gonna cum’ feeling. I was concurrently embarrassed at the thought of ejaculating in another man’s hands, very much looking forward to ejaculating, and resigned that it would happen.

But it didn’t. Every time I got close, the fellow changed to another technique. Finally, he stood up from his stool, patted me on the right shoulder, and said, “All set, Mr. Kowalski.”

Weird, eh? I so wanted to have an orgasm at that moment. Instead, I dressed, paid the man, thanked him profusely, and drove home. I didn’t have a chance to jerk off for the rest of the evening, and I though it would practically kill me. It didn’t. Instead, I felt more alive, more energetic, more charged up than I had in a long time. I played basketball with my kid in the driveway, something I hadn’t done for way too long. I chatted with my daughters and my wife. I’m sure they had no idea why I had become so lively.

I tried to get sexual with my wife when we went to bed, but she wasn’t having it. So, I rolled on my back, and jerked off, having a glorious orgasm while she complained I was shaking the bed.

I stayed charged up, at least to a minor degree, for several days afterward.

I’m sure you know I booked another appointment with the little guy a couple of weeks later. In fact, I had seen him about six times during the next couple of months.

I’m not one to keep secrets, so eventually I reluctantly told my wife about the massages, cringing all the way through. I was hoping she wouldn’t be mad. I mean, she could get really, really mad. Then I’d have to explain to the kids why I’m sleeping on the sofa. But no, to my surprise, she said, “Good honey, it takes the load off me.”

She didn’t want details. I wanted to tell her everything, but she didn’t want to hear it. However, she insisted that I no longer book appointments every two weeks. She wanted me to book weekly appointments, and even offered to pay for every other one.

As to my coworker. I never told him I’ve been seeing his massage guy. Much has changed in my life, but one thing hasn’t: I’m still shy about discussing my sex life in the office. But secretly, I thank him for introducing me to a whole new world.