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Non-Sexual Male-Male Testicle Massage

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

I go to this woman for a 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

Sexual 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

Middle School Naked Wrestling Club

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.

Create Your Own Story

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Massage Guy

Unexpected sexual massage from a 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.

Lady Mayor’s Gay Butler

I’ve always been shy. I’ve been afraid to try new experiences. And I’m gay, through and through. I knew in middle school when I’d look at the other boys in gym class. I always wished for open showers. I heard some schools had them, but in ours, each shower was a separate stall. When I realized how much I wanted to see the other guys, and didn’t care to see girls naked, I knew.

I came out to my father first. He shocked me when said, “I know.” I guess to him it had been obvious the way I looked at boys vs girls. Then I came out to my mother. she said, “I know.” Geez!

I’ve had a lot of sex with guys, but never have I had a real relationship. I mean, it’s never been like sharing an apartment with a guy. I long for that, but it simply hasn’t happened yet. Or, maybe I don’t long for it. I believe I’m keeping everyone at arms length. I think I value my independence. Anyway…

So by profession I’m a butler. My first client was very kind but very old gentleman who had done well in real estate. I was with him for six years. Our relationship was very ‘correct.’ I was his butler. That’s all. He died. I cried. I had to move on.

It turns out in this day and age, it’s hard to find work as a butler in the traditional sense. I had to expand my horizons and so I started calling myself a ‘personal assistant.’ That’s not really what I want. I like setting tables, setting out clothing, cleaning and polishing, arranging the home – you know, butlery things. A personal assistant is more about setting appointments, buying plane tickets, running errands. Still, that’s what I had to do to find work.

I got a call from the mayor who had known my old client, and had seen me at work. She wanted to interview me. I had never worked for a woman. The thought had never even crossed my mind. Normally, I would not have even considered it, but I was cutting into my savings account. I had to find work soon.

She hired me. As women go, she wasn’t bad-looking. Slim, tanned, short attractive curly hair, outgoing personality, and coincidentally, the same age as me. To my delight, even though she referred to me as her ‘personal assistant,’ I was really more her butler. I lived in a room of her house, and worked the evening hours. I did not follow her to work and have to do office things.

At home, she was the perfect lady, and of course I was the perfect gentleman. I served her well, and she expressed her appreciation, never yelling at me or being a jerk in any way. The only thing that concerned me is that sometimes she got quite personal, asking about my life, telling me about hers, as if we were supposed to be old friends or something.

One evening, she came home with a sore shoulder. It seems she had met an influential business man for tennis that afternoon, and she hasn’t played tennis in a while. I saw her favoring that shoulder, so naturally, I offered to massage it. Immediately regretting the offer. Too personal, especially since she was, well, female.

Unfortunately, she accepted. She told me to unfold the massage table that had been in the closet since before my first day of work. I set it up, and turned around, seeing Marjorie standing there topless, rubbing her shoulder with her opposite hand. Topless! She acted as if it was a normal situation.

One thing butlers do is keep their cool in all situations, so I tried to act as undisturbed as possible. She climbed on the table, and I went to work on her shoulder.

It wasn’t horrible. I kneaded for a while, she said nothing but “Ummm” a couple of times, and that was that.

A week later, the shoulder was hurting her again. The situation repeated itself. I got the table out, she got topless and hopped on. Only this time, when I thought I was about done, she rolled over, asking me whether I could continue the massage from this direction.

I tried not to stare at her tits. I don’t think I found them attractive, but my eyes kept going back to them, especially her large nipples. As I was rubbing her shoulders, both shoulders, and her neck, she said one word, “Lower.” I found myself rubbing the softer tissue at the top of her breasts. She said “Ummm” again.

“Larry, I know this is a lot to ask, but can you go lower? My breasts feel a kind of itch inside, and I think massaging would settle that.”

She was asking me to massage her breasts. Well, another thing butlers are trained to do is to understand their clients will have their own little private eccentricities, and we are supposed to accommodate to a reasonable extent. Was this unreasonable? I decided it wasn’t.

So, I started massaging her breasts. It was the first time I had touched a woman there. I was very delicate. She kept telling me to “really get in there,” to press harder. I mean, I wasn’t pressing very hard, but I had been under the impression breasts are super-sensitive for some reason.

You might wonder if it was doing anything for me. It wasn’t. There was no stirring in my pants or anything.

A week later, her shoulder was fine, but she told me the insides of her breasts were itching again. Somehow I doubted that, but I knew what she wanted. For some reason, I was happy to comply. Maybe it was the naughtiness of the situation.

I set up the table and when I was done, I was totally shocked to see Marjorie was standing there totally naked. Not a stitch on her! I was quite uncomfortable with the situation. As she got on the table, I went to get a sheet or a towel or something to cover her ‘down there.’ As I turned to go, she said, “Larry, don’t bother, I’m fine.”

“But, Marjorie…”

“No, it’s OK, really. As my butler, you’re bound to see me naked at times.”

That was interesting. For the first time, she had referred to me as ‘her butler,’ not her PA. That was pleasing to me. I hated being called a personal assistant, and loved being a butler.

Frankly, I didn’t like seeing her naked. It wasn’t right. But what could I do? And, was it really weird, after all? Maybe I was making too much of it.

So, I massaged her ‘itchy’ breasts. Then she asked whether I could massage her feet and her legs. I did so reluctantly. I really didn’t like touching female feet and legs.

A couple of times my eyes wandered to her crotch. I could barely make out the slit among her hair down there. I found it interesting, but not sexy in any way. After a while, she rolled over, and I massaged the back of her legs. On my own, without her asking, I started rubbing her ass cheeks. I don’t know why, but I figured she’d enjoy that. I tried to imagine that it was the ass of a small, smooth young man. I was rewarded with a big “Ummmm,” so I kept going. At one point, my hands spread her ass cheeks apart a little bit, and I got a glimpse of her puckered asshole. It seemed smaller than a man’s and more clearly defined.

That evening in bed, I jerked off as I usually do, but couldn’t get the vision of her anus out of my mind. I came quickly and big time. Weird, eh?

Over the course of a few months, the massages changed in nature. Now, she had an ‘itch’ in her vagina itself. Since I had gone too far already, I complied, learning to finger a woman’s vagina and even massaged inside her anus. And, every night I jerked off, remembering the images and feelings of fingering Marjorie to orgasm. Sometimes, I notice the remaining sweet odor on my fingers, and it would send me over the edge almost immediately.

I had the wrong idea about vaginas. I thought they were big bloody messes. Sorry, but that’s the way I felt. And, I thought that down inside they were very tight little holes. I didn’t even know that inner labia existed. I’ve learned a lot. When I saw Marjorie’s peehole for the first time, I was fascinated. It never occurred to me there might be a specific opening for that.

She didn’t cum every time. But when she did, her legs would go all jittery, she’d start moaning and she’d end up shivering all over. I have to admit that I loved that. To give that gift to another human being, male or female, is a delight for the giver as much as the getter.

When I had been doing that for about a year, she started hinting that she wanted me to be naked when I gave the massages. At first, I hinted just as strongly that there was no way I’d do that. But something inside me was rather excited. Oh hell, more than ‘rather.’ I was very excited at the idea. Still, I resisted for a month. Finally, the evening happened. At the appointed time, I came out of my room, not wearing a stitch, and feeling very funny, maybe what you’d call embarrassed about the situation. I wanted to run back into my room and put all my clothes back on. I didn’t. And I did set up the table. She gasped, looking at me with a wry smile, evidently quite pleased with what she saw. I do keep myself in shape. I was surprisingly proud of myself.

The massage started as usual. When it came to the point where I slowly introduce my finger into her anus, I was quite surprised to see I was becoming erect. I ignored my penis, and completed her massage. No doubt she saw my erection, but said nothing.

Not long after that, she wrapped her hand around my hard penis during the massage one evening. It was electrifying. I had no idea that could happen with a woman. I was thinking she might stroke my penis, and actually secretly hoping she would, but she didn’t.

On my birthday last year, she surprised me at the end of her massage by demanding I get on the table. I laid face down, scrunching my erection under my stomach. She massaged my shoulders, my arms, my legs, and finally my butt. It was delicious. Then she had me roll over. My erection was sticking straight up. I was no longer ashamed of it, or weirded out by being erect around Marjorie. It had become natural. She ignored my erection as she worked on the front of my legs, my arms and even my forehead. I have to tell you, the massage was delicious. Then, ever so gently, she started rubbing her fingertips over my nipples. I couldn’t help it, sperm just started squirting out of my penis, shooting a good foot in the air. Some even hit my chin.

It seemed wrong, and I started to apologize, but Marjorie stopped me with a big smile, saying, “I’ve wanted that to happen for a long time, Larry.”

Things have evolved. She massages me as much as I do her, yet, I’m the one getting paid. What a job! I wouldn’t trade my position for anything. And now, her treatments are always happy-ending massages, with good testicle massage thrown in. I had no idea about testicle massage. No man had ever done that for me.

So, I’ve been with her three years now and I have to say I get a real delight out of our massages. Oh, I’m still gay, and I still haven’t had a full-on, live-in relationship with a guy, but it’ll happen someday. I haven’t actually been with a guy at all, even for a bit of a blowjob or anything for over a year, and oddly I don’t really miss it.

Weird Double Massage

Weird Double Massage

Every Thursday morning at 10am, I go to this woman. It started when my wife just lost interest in sex after our second child. I don’t know why. She’s too young for menopause. She just doesn’t enjoy sex anymore. Can you believe it?

She tried to please me anyway, and so started giving me handjobs nearly every night. But she was usually tired, and the handjobs were weak and didn’t last long. I mostly didn’t cum, so I’d have to rub myself to orgasm as she was falling asleep.

Needless to say, it wasn’t very satisfying. I was complaining about it to a guy at work who recommended I see his ‘massage therapist.’

“I don’t need any stupid massage therapist,” I blurted out in frustration.

“Oh, she’s much more than that.” he quietly retorted.

Like an idiot, I booked a session without knowing anything about her. I arrived at her very nice 3,000 square foot home and was led to a back bedroom by an adolescent boy.

“Zacky, where are your manners? Offer the man a drink,” the just starting to turn gray-haired mother told the boy.

“He said, would you like a Coke, water, coffee or tea?”

“Ah, no thanks.”

“That’s my son. He’s home from school today. Some sort of teacher’s conference.”

The boy left, and I didn’t see him again.

“I’m Marie,” she said, followed almost immediately by “Take your clothes off.”

She locked the door, explaining that we wouldn’t want her kids barging in. “They know what goes on in here, but still, they don’t always respect limits. They think everything’s an emergency, requiring my immediate attention.” She and I both laughed. Me, a bit nervously.

Marie wasn’t fat, and she wasn’t tall, but tending to both attributes. She had a sweet face, but I could tell she also had a non-nonsense commanding presence.

I’ve had a few massages in my life, so I had no trouble disrobing in front of her. Well, maybe a little trouble. I am kind of a private guy. The funny thing is the practitioners usually leave the room while a person disrobes. She just stood there making a bit of small talk about her two children, and asking me about mine.

She had me hop on her table, face down. The massage began, and she was good. Not great, and so I had no inkling as to why my co-worker thought she was more than a typical massage therapist.

It was interesting that she didn’t drape me. I rather liked that. It seems like an unnecessary inconvenience.

As she was working around my butt, she kept just brushing against the back of my scrotum, which was surprisingly delicious.

After only five minutes of rubbing the back of my legs, arms, neck, back and butt, she had me roll over. My penis was slightly hard, but I figured she’s seen that before. In fact, even though it’s just an ordinary six-incher, I was somehow proud for her to see it.

She did more than see it. She grabbed it. Firmly. I was like “Woah.” but didn’t actually say anything, as she started working it like modeling clay. Unlike modeling clay that gets soft when you work with it, my cock hardened fully in her hands within a minute.

Then she went to work on my balls. First, massaging them gently, then working up into a very firm massage. It was starting to hurt. I was kind of moaning, and it was almost turning into yelling.

“Too much?” she asked.

“Um, yeah,” I answered.

“Too bad,” she replied with a small wicked laugh.

She continued squishing my balls back and forth in my scrotum between her fingertips like wet bars of soap.

“If it gets to be too much, use the safeword. The safeword is ‘spaghetti.’ But don’t use it lightly. If you say it, the massage ends, right then and there. Understood?”

She worked in silence for the next few minutes, continuing to squeeze my balls really hard. Oh, it hurt, but at the same time, in a way I can’t explain, I was loving it. I kind of wanted to see how much I could take. Plus it was really turning me on. I knew she couldn’t harm me. Balls are tough, like chicken gizzards. They don’t burst or anything, at least not just with finger pressure.

Finally, she let go. But that was just the beginning. She grabbed my extremely erect penis with one hand, and started rubbing the oiled palm of her other hand over the tip. Slowly, and firmly. I was immediately squirming. If you’ve never had that done, you need to get someone to do it to you. It’s an amazing tickle, something you really have to get away from, but delightful at the same time.

Evidently I was squirming too much, because she stopped, came up with these velvet rope like things, and tied my wrists and ankles to the table. She asked with her eyes whether it was OK, and I just nodded my head. I didn’t know this woman, but I did trust her.

She resumed the glans rubbing, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, over and over again.

I felt myself release an involuntary bit of pee. She said “That happens sometimes.”

The thought of what I just did, of how it was involuntary was too much. I was in such an unusual sexual situation that I lost control and started cumming right in her hands. It was one of the strongest ejaculations I’ve ever had.

Any normal person would just stop at that point, knowing that when a guy is done, he’s done. She kept going, and I discovered the squirming I had been doing was only ten percent of the squirming I was doing now. And yelling, laughing, and just going crazy. I kept thinking one thing: There was no way I was going to say ‘spaghetti.’ But, I did. And just as Marie promised, the massage ended immediately.

That was my first session. I’m wealthy enough to afford $100 every week, so I just told her to block out every Thursday morning for me.

After a few weeks, I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret from my wife. The way I introduced it was a bit underhanded. I told her one evening after one of her less-than-ideal handjobs, that it wasn’t satisfying me, and if she wasn’t going to be more involved sexually, I’d find an outside outlet. I went on to assure her that I wouldn’t fuck anyone, it’s just that I’d find a happy ending massage practitioner or something. Of course, I had already found that practitioner and had been seeing her for weeks.

My wife cried, she carried on, but in the end, she relented. I think she knew sex of some sort was so important to me that it would be necessary to save our marriage. Not that we were in any real trouble. I love her with all my heart and will always take care of her.

After the next session, my wife wanted a blow-by-blow description. I could see she was starting to get horny, which had become quite unusual for her. I suggested we go to bed, even though I was quite satisfied at the moment. Still, I didn’t want to miss out on any possible opportunity to have real sex again. But no, she wasn’t sufficiently horned up for that.

Now, on Thursday mornings, I leave my home office with my wife’s blessing. I think she knows Marie is taking the pressure off her for my sexual outlet.

I arrived last week to a total surprise. Marie greeted me at the door, and introduced me to Hank, her husband as we walked through her large living room. I never even thought about her personal life. Of course there’d be a man in it, she had kids after all. I probably assumed she was divorced.

Hank is a tall, and strongly-built man with graying hair on the slightly long side. Maybe he’s graying prematurely or maybe he’s older than he looks. He has a kind of boyish, well-tanned face. He is a contractor who still does most of his own framing carpentry. He’s home a lot during the winter months.

Marie asked whether I’d like a massage from her, or from Hank. I was shocked. She explained that many of her clients like getting their massages from her husband, and that he enjoys giving the massages from time to time. Internally, I was like “No way.” But was I really? I was immediately attracted to the strangeness of the situation. The naughtiness. The idea of a man handling my junk. That hadn’t happened since my adolescent years, and even then, it was another boy, not a man. I felt my dick stirring in my pants. Yes, this was an experience I had to try. Hank was smiling at me. I smiled back.

I was rather nervous as I took my clothes off. I mean, he was a big guy, he might squeeze my balls too hard or something. He went to work, and I was actually shivering with fear. Or maybe it was anticipation, or delight. I don’t know. He started out more gently than his wife. But he did get pretty intense. Oh, nothing horrible, but it did get me orgasmic pretty quickly. I was worried that I’d cum too soon, and things would be over.

Just as I reached the point of no return, he stopped. He just let go of my penis. It was too late. The pumping feeling started up, and after a moment, as I was looking down at my rock-hard cock laying against my stomach, a drop of white cum came out. But only one drop. That was weird.

Hank picked up my penis, and went back to work. He wasn’t glans-rubbing me like his wife normally does. He was doing a whole bunch of other things, like pulling hard on my frenulum. Really hard. Again, the contractions started, and again, he let go. The orgasm was building slowly. My penis pulsed several times, and a couple more drops of cum came out. Again he went back to work. All in all, I came three times. The last was a crashing super-orgasm in which I released all the rest of my cum. Afterward, he kept going. He was basically jerking me off after I had fully come. I could hardly stand it, but was reluctant to say the safeword. I never wanted this to end, yet I did go through that change in which one wants it to end. My silly penis stayed erect, which used to never happen to me after cumming. I was squirming way too much, actually hurting my arms, so finally I said “spaghetti.”

Marie and Hank have asked whether I’d like a double-session. Not one twice as long. I don’t think I could handle that. They want to work on me together. She told me that while’s he’s working me on the outside, she’ll be working me on the inside. I don’t know what it means, but I’m really looking forward to finding out. The price will be twice as high, but I’m sure it will be worth it.

My Girlfriend’s Gay Brother

My girlfriend's twin brother's gay birthday celebration

I’d been dating Alice for about a year and a half. I felt like we were ‘the ones.’ It seemed likely that we would be getting married, have a family, and a long, happy life together. She’s a very caring individual, not to mention lovely, with her long black hair and curvy, southern Italian looks.

Alice has a twin brother, Kevin, who says he’s gay. I don’t think he’s ever been with a guy, or a girl, for that matter. The two of them are close friends, sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences. Alice tells me that when they were younger, they did play doctor a little bit, which may have something to do with her request.

As their birthday was coming up, I asked what she would like, hoping it wouldn’t be expensive. Oh, yeah, she and I are going to the same college, studying software engineering. We’re both quite good at it. A few months ago, we built a game together that has had 120,000 visitors, and many repeat visitors. The game doesn’t make any money, and our families aren’t rich, so we’re squeezing by on student loans that we’re hoping to keep small. But, I’m getting off track.

So, when I asked, I was relieved that she didn’t want something that cost money. But I was destroyed over what she did want. She told me about how her gay virgin brother has never been laid by a guy, and he wants it desperately. She wanted me to fuck him. As soon as I could talk again, I was like, “No fucking way!”

“Would you blow him?”


“Give him a massage?”

“Yuckky, but yes, I could do that.”

“With a happy ending?”


But I always cave for Alice, so I ended up agreeing that I’d give her brother a handjob. He, too was going to our university, but he was studying general science and chemistry. That made it easy for Alice and I to arrange a time and place to do the deed.

On their birthday, I had arranged for my roommate to be elsewhere for a few hours, then invited the twins over. Kevin, who is very tall, and shares his sister’s dark European looks, with somewhat longish curly hair for a guy, is not bad looking as guys go.

Alice and I were already there when he arrived, not knowing what we were planning, but that it was something special for him. We decided it would be fun to be as shocking as possible, so when he knocked, I stood behind the door and opened it carefully. You see, Alice and I were stark naked.

He came in, and gasped when he saw his sister starkers like that. When he took his eyes off her, his eyes went to my face, then immediately his gaze went right to my penis. I have no idea what he must have been thinking.

Alice explained the situation to Kevin. This was to be his birthday massage, administered not by her, being a woman, but by me, a guy, since Kevin was gay.

His eyes absolutely sparkled! “I’ve died and gone to heaven! You two are just absolutely too loving. Thank you, Thank you!”

Alice took control. She instructed him to take off his clothes and lay face down on my bed. Now I don’t know much about massage, never having had a professional one. Alice and I have played with the concept, but she knows as little as I.

I figured out that my hands should be warm, so I rubbed them together for a while as she dug out a bottle of massage oil. That probably cost her $10, a big sacrifice for her. I put some on my hands, then leaned in, and put my hands solidly on Kevin’s shoulders. It kind of sickened me. I figured I wasn’t very bisexual. Perhaps it wouldn’t do me any harm if I could be more accepting of the bisexual concept, but really! Geez! In fact, seeing that skinny, hair-covered ass of his added to the effect. I’d rather look at a car wreck. But, I’ll do anything for Alice…

I started massaging his shoulders, eventually working my way down his back, and his arms. I wasn’t sure if you’re supposed to massage someone’s hands or not, so I gingerly pressed my fingers into his palms. Already, he had been moaning about how nice it all felt, but when I pressed into his palms like that, he said it was “exquisite.”

The process wasn’t horrible. In fact, I was kind of warming up to it. I don’t know if it was because he was so appreciative, or what, but I was finding myself enjoying giving the massage. I went down to his feet, then worked up his ankles, calves, and thighs. ‘Should I touch his ugly ass?’ I was wondering.

I figured under the circumstances, it would be OK. I worked up his thighs, and then I did it. I let my hands rub the lower portion of his ass cheeks, being rewarded by another moan of ecstasy. I spent the next few minutes rubbing his butt. Occasionally, I’d kind of move my hands apart, and get a view of his asshole. It was hairy, but not terrible. I caught a glimpse of that sweet glandular smell that assholes can put out. It was the same as Alice.

Meanwhile, she had been sitting on my roommate’s bed. It wasn’t lost on me that she was totally naked. I could look over from time to time and see her marvelous tits, along with the rest of her. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, when after a while her hand went down to her crotch, and I could see she was rubbing her clit, as she intently watched me working on her brother.

As I continued to work his ass, my fingertips accidentally brushed the back of his scrotum a couple of times. The first time, that kind of bothered me. He seemed to like it, with an extra little ‘Hmmm.” The second time, it was kind of neutral. The third time, I seem to have brushed it on purpose. Go figure! I guess I did it for him, because he was enjoying it.

I hadn’t been paying the least attention to myself, so I was horrified when I suddenly realized I was erect. My penis had risen. I told myself it was because of Alice sitting there all naked and sexy. But was it entirely? The thought so scared me that I immediately focused my thoughts on something else. I tried to think of some recent PHP code I had been struggling with.

It was time for Kevin to turn over. He’d see my erection, but what could I do? Even though I was mostly facing away from Alice, she must have seen it also. When he did turn over, he looked right at it, and just wordlessly smiled. As he turned, I saw that he was fully erect also.

I massaged the front of him, ignoring that erection of his sticking straight up. It was quite a lot like mine, maybe a bit bigger, but surrounded with black hair instead of brown. Both of us are uncircumcised, but my head naturally pokes out a bit, and his was entirely covered.

The time came that I had been dreading. I was to give my girlfriend’s brother a handjob. We hadn’t told him it was to be anything more than a massage, and as Alice and I had arranged, if I simply couldn’t stand the idea of touching another guy’s dick, I could back out, leaving it as just a birthday massage.

I’m not like that. I couldn’t leave him there with an unrequited erection. I could imagine how I’d feel about that, if Alice did it to me. Imagine, getting a massage from your girlfriend, getting all hard, then not having sex, or getting sucked off, or something.

Again, I felt that slightly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, as I finally wrapped my fingers around another guy’s dick. It had to be done, right? Now, it was interesting that it was erect like that. Kind of cool. I started stroking up and down, just like I do to myself. I felt him arching his back and tightening all his muscles. I realized if I let him cum immediately, it would be too soon. It would not be entirely satisfying for him. I stopped stroking him, and started playing with his balls. Remembering that I like it when Alice massages my balls fairly lightly, I did the same for him. I have to admit, feeling those balls of his squishing around in his scrotum, wasn’t half bad. I could understand while Alice likes massaging mine. He asked me to press harder, so I squished harder on his balls than I think I would have liked, and he was all moans of appreciation. My penis remained totally erect. I started to figure it must just be natural under the circumstances.

After a while, I turned my attention back to his penis, slowly stroking it up and down, determined not to let him cum too soon, so he could really get the most out of this. I had been determined that this would be a one-off, never to happen again, so I had to make it good for him.

I had entirely forgotten about Alice sitting on the other bed, until I heard her start to scream. I looked ever, and she was all contorted, with one hand rubbing her clit, and she was orgasming all over the place, barely able to keep her body on the bed.

That was too much for Kevin, who started to ejaculate all over my hand and my stomach. And, that, in turn, was too much for me. I started to ejaculate against Kevin’s side and butt, and my rock-hard penis hadn’t even been touched.

All in all, it was a satisfying afternoon, even for me, if I have to admit it.

Kevin was very appreciative, and offered to return the favor someday. I thanked him, knowing in my mind, that I would never, ever accept an invitation of that sort from a gay guy.

A week later, I was in Kevin’s dorm room, getting the blowjob of my life. I blew him too, something that I absolutely assured myself I would not do, yet I did it, and, I have to admit, I enjoyed it.

Of course I admitted to Alice what I had done, cringing at how she might react. She reacted with absolute joy. The only thing she regretted was not being there to see it.

Over the next months, she got her opportunity to watch. We did everything. Well, not everything. Kevin and I didn’t fuck, or even kiss, and he and Alice didn’t fuck, although she gave him a handjob, and he reluctantly felt up and sucked her tits. He claimed that he was still 100% gay, but enjoyed the feel of her breasts. When I saw him getting a handjob from his own sister, I had another spontaneous ejaculation. She and I are still very much together, and we are definitely going to get married after college. Kevin has found a boyfriend who takes up all his time. The guy is a way-tall guy on a basketball scholarship. Here’s the crazy part: I kind of miss my masturbatory activities with Kevin. I told Alice, and she’s totally understanding. She’s tried to make it up to me by giving me extra sexual attention at every opportunity. I’m so glad I jerked off her brother!

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