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Melanie, Massage Therapist

So I go to this woman every Thursday at 10am. I’ve been doing it almost every week for over a year now. She frustrates me so much. Why I come back for more, I have no idea.

It started out as ordinary massages. I know I’m a little too old to play basketball, so I do get sore muscles. She helped right from the start. I’d play pickup games with some guys, mostly younger than me on Wednesday nights, be kind of hobbling Thursday morning. Fortunately, she’s always been available at 10am.

She starts with a regular massage and that’s all it was for the first year or so. Sure, sometimes I’d get a bit of an erection, but not like a big, full one. I’m sure she saw it and I was a little embarrassed about it, but neither of us said anything. I figured she’s seen them before, she’ll see them again, and it’s just part of her routine.

Of course, I’d end up at home on Thursday afternoons and wank like crazy after my massage sessions. Conveniently, my wife does volunteer work at the humane society and is always out of the house all day on Wednesdays.

Well, to make a long story short, Melanie, that’s the massage practitioner, suggested I might do well with a prostate massage. She said at my age, prostate health can be an issue. In fact, I had been peeing less powerfully than in my youth. My doctor did tests, and said my PSA is just fine. My blood pressure, too, I’m proud to say. Personally, I think that’s because of all the wanking I do.

Sorry, I’m getting off topic. I had never heard of a prostate massage, but of course I know what the prostate gland is. I assumed she’d just press around my perineum a bit, you know the area between the anus and scrotum. The idea of her seeing my possible erection up close was sort of worrying, but I figured I could keep it down, or that it wouldn’t matter. Still, just the thought of it was embarrassing. After all, I’m as private as the next man when it comes to that sort of stuff.

Like an idiot, I said “Sure.” Besides, she was including it. She wasn’t going to charge extra. Melanie is like that. I can tell she is a very loving and giving person. Too bad she’s married and I’m married. Even though she’s 63, she is still a super-hot chick, and I could go for her under different circumstances. My wife is rather prudish. I mean, we do fuck, but only maybe once every couple of weeks, and she’s always been adverse to anything besides plain old missionary position. She has never sucked my dick… Sorry, I’m getting off-topic again.

Melanie got to work. Massage as normal. I had pretty much forgotten about the prostate thing. At the end she said I should turn over and get on my hands and knees on her massage table. As I did so, she placed a couple of paper towels directly under my belly. I wondered why. Behind me, I heard her snap on rubber gloves. One knows that sound instantly. All you need is a medical prostate exam once to remember that sound for the rest of your life.

Suddenly alarm bells were ringing. What, exactly was she planning? What should I do about it? I actually made a move to turn around or get off the table, but only moved an inch or two. I mean, what would I say to her? What was I, some kind of jerk, asking for a thing, then not wanting it? Oh my, my. What should I do? As my mind was racing, I was kind of frozen in place, with my hands and knees on the table, and my ass up in the air. I knew this was going to hurt, but what, exactly should I do?

Still frozen, I felt her finger. It was not touching my anus. It was touching around the periphery, and very lightly. I felt something creamy. I really didn’t want this. However, her touch at that moment was magical. I mean, it felt really nice. Very erotic. I wasn’t expecting that. With a sort of embarrassed horror, I realized that seemingly in an instant, as she was rubbing my anal area lightly like that, my penis had grown to its full, throbbing length. Obviously, she could see that.

My mind was racing even more and I was just plain frozen in place. She kept doing that little circular rubbing thing. OK, she’d be sticking that finger in me at any moment, and it was going to hurt. I just knew it! But I was also sort of OK with it. The eroticism, even if she had no idea what was happening in my mind and body, was through the roof. She could go ahead and stick a finger in me if she wanted. Let it hurt. No big deal.

And she did just that. Slowly, ever so slowly, I felt her fingertip penetrating right into the center of my anus, into the center of my very being. And it didn’t hurt yet. It just felt so fucking nice! She continued, taking a very long time until finally, her finger was all the way in me and it felt so amazing. It never hurt. Not one little bit. I guess the slowness and her tenderness made it much different than a quick in and out medical prostate exam.

Melanie just held her finger in me for quite a while. I hoped it would never end. Then she pressed forward a little. Or at least that’s what I think she was doing. I felt something I had never quite felt in my life. It was like I had to pee, but not that. Something better. It just felt nice. That, evidently, was prostate massage.

She continued. I felt another weird sensation. It felt like pee was flowing down through my urethra. Weird. Then I heard a sort of ‘drip, drip’ on the paper towel under me. What was going on? Had I peed? Had I ejaculated? I didn’t really think so, but what was that? Later I came to find out that the prostate stores semen, and when compressed, the semen has to go somewhere, so without ejaculating, it is forced out.

This was so good. I would rate it beyond intercourse with my wife. Really. This was amazing. I was sure I’d end up ejaculating, and although I felt naughty, like a kid who is about to commit a minor crime, logically, I wasn’t going to do anything wrong. If Melanie was going to give me a handjob, well that was just part of the treatment, right?

But she didn’t! She pulled her finger out slowly and quietly said, “Done. You can turn over and just lay on the table and relax for a few minutes if you’d like.”

I was so ready to cum, and it didn’t happen. I almost thought of asking, even begging Melanie to finish me off, but thought that might be, I don’t know what. Too direct? Too forward? Breaking the rules? Too naughty? I am a married man, after all.

Well it’s been like that every week since. Melanie massages my body, finishing with my internal prostate massage. I always become super erect. I’m sure she sees that. But I don’t get to cum.

It used to be I’d jerk off the moment I got home after Melanie’s massages, but things have changed.

I was feeling guilty about the whole thing, so hesitantly, sheepishly, I told my wife what was going on. I thought she’d become tremendously upset. Maybe even slap me. Instead, she broke into a big smile. I didn’t have a clue what she was thinking. Remember this is my wife. I love her, but I have to say, she is a prude.

Quietly, she asked, “Women don’t have prostates, do they?”

I answered, “No, I guess not.”

“Do you think I’d benefit from a massage like that?”

That’s when I discovered the joys of anal fingering. My wife now gives me occasional prostate massages. I give her anal massages surprisingly often, often ending with her having crashing orgasms. That’s kind of interesting, because she never orgasmed like that when we fucked. Just last week, she wanted me to finger her pussy in the same way I’ve been fingering her ass. She loved that. She’s been hinting that she’d like to become more sexual again. I’m not sure, but I think she indicated she’d like to be anally fucked. I’ll be ready the moment she says “Yes.”

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Therapeutic Testicle Squeezing

This came from the AI component of Bing:

Squeezing the testes serves various purposes related to male reproductive health. Let’s explore why it’s important:

Testosterone Production:

The testes are responsible for producing the male sex hormone testosterone. Squeezing or massaging the testicles can stimulate blood flow and enhance the function of Leydig cells, which secrete testosterone1.

Adequate testosterone levels are crucial for secondary male characteristics (such as facial hair, body hair, and muscle mass), libido, sexual function, and fertility.

Sperm Production:

Squeezing the testes can indirectly impact sperm production. The testes are where sperm cells are produced through a process called spermatogenesis.

Proper blood flow and temperature regulation (which squeezing can help with) ensure optimal conditions for sperm development.

Scrotal Health:

The scrotum, which houses the testes, needs proper blood circulation and temperature control.

Squeezing or gently massaging the testicles can promote blood flow, prevent stagnation, and maintain a healthy scrotal environment.

Sensitivity Enhancement:

Squeezing the testicles can enhance sensitivity. Circular motion or gentle pressure can stimulate nerve endings in the scrotum.

Some techniques, like the stop-squeeze technique, can also be used to delay orgasm and manage premature ejaculation2.

Testicular Stretching:

Some individuals practice scrotum stretching to achieve a low-hanging appearance. While this is not a primary health concern, it can be done with caution.

Scrotum stretching involves using devices like leather straps, steel rings, or rubber rings to gradually stretch the scrotal skin over time.

Remember that maintaining healthy testicles and overall reproductive health should be the priority.

In summary, while squeezing the testes directly impacts testosterone and sperm production, it’s essential to balance any stretching or massaging practices with overall well-being and medical advice. Always consult a healthcare professional for personalized guidance.

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Mom’s Massage with Mattie

I’m in the first year of college. After considering my options, I went with the local university. Part of me thought it would fun to participate in dorm living, but the more sensible part wanted to keep my student loan down, and I’ve always enjoyed living with my family, so why not continue?

Like any college student, I have an assortment of classes, lectures, workshops, study groups and so on with a varying schedule. Even weekends. However, on Thursday afternoons, I have nothing, so I come home where it’s quiet and do some studying.

On Thursday afternoons, my brother and sister are still in school. My dad is at work. My mom is often home, but she’s usually in her studio. She’s a sculptor. She often works with nude models. I’ve stepped into the studio a few times and seen some of the models. I try to be nonchalant, but I do get a charge out of seeing them, and often go to my room and have a good wank with the memory of them fresh in my mind. Is it too revealing to say I’ll as often jerk off to the male models as the females?

One time, I saw a guy I don’t know but who I’ve seen around the university, posing with an erection. Oh my, I had a good wank after that! He didn’t bat an eyelash at my arrival, as if being nude and erect in front of people is just normal for him. I made a mental note to look the guy up and try to make friends with him. My mom was sketching the guy, prior to working with the clay, and seemed perfectly OK with the guy being erect. How cool is that?

In case you’re wondering, in the final sculpture, there was a leaf over his genital region, and no visible erection.

So, on this particular Thursday, she had changed her regularly scheduled massage session from her usual Wednesdays. I don’t know why. Maybe the masseuse was busy on Wednesday or something.

Mattie, the massage practitioner, does house calls. She sets up her massage table in our family room and goes to work on Mom. I’ve never actually seen these massages, because I’ve been at school.

So, on this day, I came into the family room looking for my tablet, which I had left there the evening before. Boy oh boy, what I saw!

There was my mother, laying face-up on the table, stark naked. There was Mattie, massaging my mom’s breasts. Yes, her actual boobs, which I have to admit are quite shapely. My whole mom is a good-looking woman. Very good looking. If I was 40-something, and not her son, and if she wasn’t married to Dad, I’d be interested!

At first, I didn’t realize I had intruded. Mattie saw me right away, and looked a bit like a thief caught red-handed. I was just going to turn around and tip-toe away, but since she was looking right at me, I had to say something, right?

“Oops, excuse me.” – That was the best I could come up with.

Hearing my voice, my mom said, “Oh, it’s no big deal. I’m just getting a massage.”

“Well, I’ll just slip away…”

“No, it’s OK. You can stay.”

What does one do in a situation like that? I said I’d just get my tablet and leave.

“Mattie, this is my son Paul. Paul, Mattie.” My mom made the introductions.

“Oh, hi,” I said.

Mattie had lost her deer in the headlights look, and started something I didn’t expect. She started conversing with me. “Paul, if you ever find yourself massaging a woman’s breasts, this is how you do it. Generally, you want to be gentle, but some women, such as your mother, like rather deeper massage. When you can feel the slightly granular-feeling breast tissue deep inside, you’re getting it right.”

“Oh, OK.”

My mother, naked though she was, looked at me, like as if this was an everyday occurrence. I became transfixed. I know I should have left the room at that point, but I didn’t.

Mattie was evidently done with my mother’s breasts and took a step further down the table. Then she started on the unthinkable. She started massaging my mom’s vagina. Right there in front of me. And my mom was not only OK with it, she was kind of blindly staring right at me, smiling blissfully, and moaning gently.

Mattie continued. I was just glued in place, staring, not knowing what to think. I have to say, I did feel an immediate stirring in my pants. I’m not entirely inexperienced with women, but to see my own mother getting her vagina massaged, that was, well, simply amazing!

My mother tensed muscles, started panting, and practically screamed as her orgasm hit her.

I was finally getting ready to leave as Mom calmed down, when she quietly said, “Mattie, do you have time to do Paul, too?”

“Why yes, I’d be delighted.”

To cut a long story short, I received my first-ever massage, let alone a happy ending massage, right there in front of my mother. At first I was embarrassed to have her see me naked. She hadn’t seen me with at least underpants on since I was like five years old.

Fortunately, the first part of the massage was with me face-down on the table. My mom probably only saw my junk for a moment as I removed my pants.

The massage felt really nice, and I felt my penis wanting to become hard under my belly. I was amazed that Mattie was willing to spend quite a bit of time first massaging my butt in general, then lightly brushing her fingers right over my anus. If you’ve never had that done, get someone to do that for you. It’s amazing! After a while, Mattie asked me to roll over.

I was super-embarrassed when I had to roll over. By then, my dick was super-hard. I had really willed it not to, but you know biology. At the same time, I was kind of expecting that since Mattie had given my mother an orgasm, perhaps that was on the agenda for me also. So, maybe an erection was OK under the circumstances. I really wasn’t sure. My mom didn’t say anything. She was just staring lovingly, the way mothers do, and smiling. I also wondered if Mattie would think I was a perv or something. But, hadn’t she just given my mother an orgasm?

It took me a few minutes to settle into my embarrassing situation, and realize that instead, I could just soak it all in, and maybe even be proud of my obvious masculinity. My penis was standing straight up, not laying against my stomach as it usually does when I masturbate. I must have been super-excited and therefore super-hard. Sure enough, I got my orgasm, squirting my cum a good foot in the air under Mattie’s ministrations.

After Mattie left, my mother and I didn’t discuss what had happened. In fact, I needed some space to process, so I took my tablet to my room, walking through the house still naked, holding my clothes in my other hand. In my room, I couldn’t focus on my studies. My mind was just replaying the afternoon over and over again.

An hour later, my mom knocked on my door. “Shall I book us another session for next Thursday?”


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My Male-Male Massage

I was asked whether I’ve ever had a male-male massage.

The first time that happened I had been on business, away from my wife, on the island of Maui for several weeks. I was becoming horny, and wanking wasn’t feeling sufficient.

I saw an ad in a local newspaper by a male massage practitioner that hinted it would be more than an ordinary massage. This guy advertised tantra, colonics, and all sorts of things that are out of the ordinary for conservative massage practitioners. I didn’t really even know what these things were at the time, but got the idea that it was a very personal kind of treatment. The one thing that really got me was prostate massage. None of the personal services ads for women in the little newspaper advertised anything like that. They may have offered such services, but I didn’t know and didn’t want to have my expectations left unmet. So, whereas my preference was for a woman for sure, I thought I’d just go ahead and try this guy out. How bad could it be?

Now, I’m a guy who although I had jerked off with some buddies in my teen years, was pretty well geeked out by simply hugging a man in an embrace of friendship. I would never kiss a guy or anything like that. Yuck! Right?

So, when I came to this guy’s garden apartment, I was full of all sorts of emotions. On the one hand, knowing that a prostate massage was in store, I was sexually charged up. I mean, I didn’t even really know what a prostate massage was, but had a pretty good idea that I’d enjoy it in a sexual way. On the other hand, I was scared to death. Exactly why, I couldn’t tell you, but when I was greeted at the door by the guy, my voice was literally shaky. I really felt like saying, “This was a mistake” and turning around. Realizing how fucked up that would be, I didn’t do that.

He led me to a back bedroom with a sliding glass door opening onto a shared lawn/garden area. Surely the neighbors could see into this room. Yet, he had incense burning, light indistinct instrumental music, and the room was furnished darkly and calmly. He instructed me to remove my clothes, while he remained dressed in the typical Hawaiian shirt and shorts.

He was a white guy, mid-thirties, somewhat tall, thin, with moderate length curly dark blond hair, lightened from surfing, and a neatly trimmed beard.

So, he wanted me to take my clothes off, right in front of that big glass door, where everyone could see in. What exactly was I supposed to do? Briefly the idea of immediate flight came to me. But then, I realized that not only would it be impolite but downright shocking to the poor guy. I also noticed that although the door led to the garden, it was actually open, but a screen kept the bugs out. I assumed the screen might make it hard to see into the room also. Finally, it occurred to me that no one was actually in the yard. There was no one there to look at me, although people might show up at any time. Still thinking as fast as I could, feeling almost trapped in this crazy situation, I also realized that people in the complex must know what this guy does for a living. I didn’t know any of them, and they didn’t know me. I’d just be another client. They’d probably seen it all before. Or maybe not. Geez!

All this intense thinking happened within perhaps 60 seconds. At the end of the time, I figured there was only one way out. As the poet Robert Frost said, “The best way out is always through.” So I took off my shorts and shirt, and was naked as the day I was born. Somehow, I felt like an idiot. Like a child who did something naughty in school and would be called to the principal’s office.

The massage guy had me lay face down on his sheet-covered massage table. He went to work. I didn’t know what to expect. I mean, I had never had a professional massage, not even by a woman. Come to think of it, my girlfriends in the past, and my wife, had never actually massaged me.

The guy started on my back and my upper hands and my neck with his warm, oily hands, and I found it really quite pleasurable. I thought it would quite possibly geek me out beyond words. Nothing of the sort. It was just, well, nice!

He stepped along the table, and started working my feet. I thought they’d be ticklish as they usually are, but he was evidently an expert. His warm hands felt very comfortable on my feet. Who knew?

He worked up my lower legs, then my upper legs. Then, he started massaging my glutes, my ass muscles. A couple of times he kind of pulled my ass cheeks apart. I realized he could see my actual anus. I liked the idea. I wanted him to see it. How weird is that?

In fact, I wanted him to touch my anus, or the skin just around my anus. I knew from my wife and others that attention to that area can feel quite wonderful. But he wouldn’t do it. He kept kneading my ass muscles, but never actually touched my anus.

At one point, I felt one of his fingertips brush over the underside of my scrotum. It was such a light touch, so unexpected and yet so intense it was like an electric shock. It was just a fleeting touch, and lasted only a second. Then he returned to working on my ass muscles and upper thigh muscles. I really wouldn’t have minded if he’d somehow just stroke my scrotum like that again.

A moment later, he did. Then he stopped. I believe he was adding more oil to his hands. Then the most wonderful thing in the world happened. He started stroking my anus. My actual anus. It was just light stroking, but I was in absolute heaven. Except for one thing. I felt my penis hardening under my tummy, and it was kind of squished.

I figured that under the circumstances the massage guy must know what was happening, so I went ahead and lifted my butt off the table for a moment to better reposition my cock, which by now was fully hard.

He continued to stoke my anus, and now, his forefinger was pausing momentarily at the very opening of my anus on each stroke, and soon, he was poking in maybe a centimeter or so. I was rapidly deciding that this would not be my last man-to-man massage ever. I was already thinking of booking another appointment, which is weird, because at the start of this thing, I was telling myself it it would just be an experiment. I would probably not like it, and would never do it again.

It might have been another five minutes before his finger was reaching well into my butt and literally massaging my prostate gland. I never knew it could feel like that – a sort of gotta pee feeling, but much better. Then, he had two fingers in me. Oh my god, so amazing!

After a minute, it was starting to feel kind of scratchy. I guess the anal tissue can take only so much, at least if not practiced. I know gay guys do anal intercourse and everything, so they must get used to it. It’s like volleyball. At first the bumping of the ball off your forearms hurts, but in time, it doesn’t hurt at all. So, I decided something else: I would like more anal fingering in the future. My wife had offered to do that to me once or twice in the past and like an idiot, I always said, “Oh, no thanks!”

All too soon the massage guy had me roll over. I was reluctant because he’d see my erection. I felt a sort of shame, like ‘should I be seen by this guy having an erection from attention by a male?’ I know that’s silly, but that’s what I was feeling. I mean, surely he saw erections every day, but for me it was a first, and a rather scary first indeed.

But what was I going to do, say no? Of course not, with all the prostate massage, I was so super-horny there’s no way I’d stop whatever was going to happen next.

As I rolled over, I felt wetness under me. I didn’t quite understand at the time, but the prostate massage had caused some semen to be squeezed out of the gland, through my urethra and onto the sheet under me. I know now that’s fairly common and natural.

So there I was laying on my back with probably the hardest erection I had ever had in my life sticking straight up in front of this massage guy. And, come to think of it, I could be seen by anyone who might be in the garden just ten feet away. I didn’t dare look out the door to see if anyone was there.

Normally, when I’m laying on my back with an erection, my cock lays against my stomach. Today, it was sticking straight up like a flagpole. Evidently, it was possible to get harder than I normally did, resulting in this real, true, sticking straight up erection.

The massage guy surprised me by ignoring my erection altogether. I thought he was going to give me a handjob or something, which I really, really wanted at that point. But no. Instead he was massaging my arms, my legs, my chest, the palms of my hands, my fingers, my toes, even my face, but not my cock. I became conscious of the time. Was my hour nearly up? Was I going to go through all this remarkably amazing attention and not even end up with an orgasm?

I needn’t have worried. After a while he did something so weird that I have jacked off several times just remembering it. He started massaging my scrotum with his slippery, oily hands. Then, he was massaging my balls within my scrotum. They were slipping back and forth between his thumbs and fingertips like wet bars of soap. It was almost too much. It was almost hurting, but not quite.
Bang, I came! He hadn’t even touched my cock, yet I was shooting semen four or five centimeters straight up, which splashed back down onto my belly. I was squirming, I was yelling, I was laughing.

Well, that was the best massage of my life. Hell, it was the only massage I had ever had, but I knew for sure it would not be my last. I should say it was the best orgasm of my life, and that includes all the things I’ve done with my wife. I mean, it was literally better than intercourse. And to think, it was with a man, not a woman!

As that orgasm was happening, the massage guy kept kneading my balls. He wasn’t touching my dick at all. That was a little frustrating. You know how when you cum, you want to keep stroking until it’s finished, right? Yet, he just let me cum like that without touching my dick.

As I calmed down, he let go of my balls, and then, he wrapped a fist around my still hard cock. In the past, when a girlfriend or my wife did that, it was unbearable. You know, when you cum, you’re done. No more touching, thank you very much!

But not this time. His hand was oily and warm, and felt really, really nice. He started stroking up and down, as if I hadn’t just cum. Oh my god. I thought it would be unbearable, or ticklish or something, but it was super-wonderful. Guess what? Within a minute, I came again. It was the first time in my life that I had two orgasms in a row.

He continued to simply hold my penis for another minute as I settled down again, then he quietly told me I could stay on his table as long as I wanted, then use his shower when I was ready. He left the room.

I did stay there perhaps 5 minutes, then I did use his shower. I paid him, I thanked him profusely, and I did indeed book another appointment.

So that’s what it was like for me to be massaged by a male.

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25 Years Between Massage Parlor Happy Endings

by Spurtz

25 Years Between Massage Parlor Happy Endings
That’s Spurtz’s actual penis, but a different woman in the picture

I’ve been toying with the idea of hitting a local massage parlor for a handjob. I need a little break from doing all the work myself. I found a place online that appeared to provide happy endings. And less than ten minutes from my house.

I actually made it to the place this morning. Tiny little hole-in-the-wall. Doesn’t even have a sign out front. Just a small “Massage” sign in the front window which is otherwise blacked out.

I went into a little reception area and rang a bell. A Korean gal came out and ushered me in before I even had a chance to enquire about prices. But at that point I was committed.

She was just average looking. OK, but nothing special. Probably 35 or so. Sixty bucks for a half hour. She barely spoke English and when I asked her about “extras” she just stared at me. I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around so I said I wanted a hand-job and gave the universal demonstration by moving my hand back and forth.

Still no reaction from her but she did grab my package and squeezed it. I gave her a hundred dollar bill and she left. Came back with two twenties and I told her to keep it. “Not enough” she said. I asked how much? She said $20. I thought $120 was too much but how do you haggle with someone that doesn’t communicate, so I gave her another $20.

She told me to get undressed and left the room for a few minutes. When she got back I was naked and was leaning against the table stroking my erect cock. Since I wasn’t totally sure we were both on the same page as to what I wanted, I figured that would get my point across. It did.

She instructed me to lay down on the massage table. No massage preliminary stuff. She went directly to the real reason I was there. She liberally lubed up my cock and actually gave me a first class handjob. Didn’t last as long as I would have liked but her expertise made me cum much quicker than I expected. Felt about 100 times better than when I do it. Then she cleaned me up with some hot towels and proceeded to give me a decent massage.

The only negative was I like to watch. But once I got on the table she dimmed the lights way down. Plus lying flat on my back, it was not possible to comfortably raise my head high enough to see what she was doing. I wish I could have seen it because no handjob I have ever had felt the same. Or as good.

I had some reservations as to whether Mr. Happy would be up to the task since it’s been 18 months since the last time I was with a partner for sex. Plus I’m getting along in years and you never know if everything will be “up” to one’s expectations. Thankfully all my parts worked just the way they are supposed to. Almost too well since I had hoped it would take me longer to cum.

All told, I was happy, but still think $120 was a bit too much. But I am out of touch with what the going rate is so maybe that’s the usual cost. The only other time I was at a massage parlor was 25 years ago. It was $40 for a half hour, another $20 for a handjob, $40 for a blowjob and I think it was $60 for a fuck.

She did volunteer that I did well for a 60 year old guy. When I told her I was 89, she about shit a brick. She also commented about how clean I was. Especially picked up my white socks (which were brand new) and said “Very clean. I like clean.” I got the same thing at the only other massage parlor I’ve ever been to so I suspect that a lot of the customers they get aren’t all that clean. Probably blue collar workers who go there right from work.

I never saw anybody else at the place. The bell did ring once but fortunately not while she was performing her “service” for me. But if somebody did come in, or there was another woman working there, I never heard or saw them.

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Fake ED and Vaginal Tune-Ups

Fake ED and vaginal tune-ups

This guy at the next bench over and I have struck up quite a friendship. Jim is a bit older, but quite athletic. He keeps trying to get me to play tennis, which I haven’t taken him up on yet. We also talk about sexual things, especially when we are the only two in the workshop. It had been mostly about girls, nudity, things like that. He’d ask me, “Have you ever been to a nude beach?”

When I admitted that I had, he asked “How do you manage to keep it soft?” You know, stuff like that. I was starting to get a bit shocked, maybe even started thinking he’s gay or something, even though I met his wife and saw his son and daughter once.

So we got to talking one day, and he said he had been faking erectile dysfunction. I asked why in the world he’d want to do that?

He said there’s a practitioner he’s been going to who performs what he called a ‘delightful’ treatment. I couldn’t resist. I asked about it and he told me the practitioner uses hand-held vibrators, sometimes two at a time, to stimulate the penis, and that whole region, which overcomes erectile dysfunction. I was very curious about something else, so I asked, “Is this practitioner male or female?”

He said “male” and then quickly added that there’s nothing gay about it. I wasn’t so sure, then quickly changed the subject, being rather shocked at the time. Later in the day, thinking it over, I realized if it was gay, well, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just not for me.

Over the next week or so, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I have to say, I did fantasize about the whole situation with the vibrators and all, and if I dare admit it, the idea of a guy doing that to me. OK, it was turning me on. There, I said it!

So Jim and I continued our ever-more risque conversations, then one day Jim just announced he made a double appointment with his ED guy, and that he did it for me, because he knew I probably had some erectile dysfunction issues also. he said that I could come or that he could cancel the second person of the appointment.

I practically yelled, “No fucking way!” Jim was silent. I think he was embarrassed.

Then I said, “Well, if I actually had ED, that would be different.”

A moment later, and I don’t know why, I added, “Well, I have had times when it was hard to get it up.”

I’m sure you can guess what happened. Yes, Jim and I went over to the guy’s house. His massage parlor was set up in a spare bedroom. The whole thing seemed unconventional to me, but my heart was racing. As scary as it was, I was definitely going to go through with it. Fact is, I was totally horned up just thinking about what was going to happen.

The part I hadn’t counted on – at all – was that I’d get my treatment right in front of Jim, and he’d get his right in front of me. Jim went first. He took off all his clothes right there in the little room with the three of us barely fitting around the massage table, then laid down. Jim turns out to be a pretty good looking guy. His hair is just starting to turn gray at the temples, which I suppose makes him look distinguished. I’m sure ladies would totally go for this guy if he wasn’t married.

Anyway, the treatment guy got a couple of vibes off a table that had about thirty or so of them piled on. Some were battery-powered, some plug-in style. There were cords all over the place. He got to work on Jim, pressing the vibrators here and there. A couple of times, he placed them right on Jim’s balls. I was thinking ‘that must hurt.’ At one point he had Jim scrunch up, and placed a bullet-shaped vibe a couple of inches into Jim’s butt. I was still clothed as all this was going on, but I felt a definite boner forming in my pants. Jim was totally unashamed as his penis stuck straight up into the air. I was everything at once: Shocked, embarrassed about my own boner which they could probably see through my pants, but more than anything: as horny as I had ever been!

It wasn’t long before Jim was shooting cum a few inches in the air. The practitioner just kept right on going as Jim squirmed and looked like he was going to jump right off the table in post-orgasm sensitivity. Finally, as Jim’s penis softened, the guy was done. After a couple of minutes, Jim who had been literally jittering or shaking in some sort of very strong post-orgasmic state, got off the table and replaced me in the one and only chair in which I had been sitting. He was still nude.

The practitioner told me to take off all my clothes. Again, a moment of embarrassment as I realized they’d see my erection. How weird is that – that I would be embarrrassed, after just witnessing what I had seen?

I took off my clothes and got the treatment. It was everything it was cut out to be and more. The only thing is, it was over way too soon. As soon as I recovered, I agreed to another double-appointment with Jim.

I told my wife that evening after dinner. I was cringing, thinking she’d explode or something. Instead, she smiled, and dragged me to the bedroom. She wanted a description with the most minute details. Then she did with me what husbands and wives do. I mean, we fucked our brains out. Jenny then told me I should indeed keep next week’s appointment.

I went several times to the practitioner. Sometimes with Jim, sometimes alone. It was much better with company. Then I got to thinking, and asked the guy, “What about women?”

He got a twinkle in his eye, saying, “They don’t have ED of course, but they have other issues. Most want to have longer lasting, or multiple orgasms. Yes, I do have the occasional female patient.” He looked eager.

I told Jenny, and she was all over it. She and I booked a double-appointment.

We’ve been back several times since. The whole thing is rather naughty of course. Everyone, and especially the practitioner, knows that no one has erectile dysfunction or needs any sort of vaginal tune up. But we’re all having a good time, and the practitioner is earning a good living.

Finally, we booked a triple session with Jim. You should have seen Jenny’s eyes light up as he got the first treatment. She wasn’t at all abashed as she stared intently at Jim’s equipment. When the practitioner asked her to hold his rock hard penis out of the way with her fingertips, while the man attended to Jim’s scrotum, she was delighted. I think I saw her stroking Jim’s penis up and down a quarter of an inch as she held it.

She went last, so Jim and I had already ejaculated, but I really, really enjoyed seeing the lust in his eyes as he got a full view of my wife’s vagina and anus as she got her treatment. It was fun alternately watching her jitter and squirm as she was having orgasms, and watching Jim watch her.

And that’s all I have to say about that. Oh, and we’ve bought some of those vibrators, and we’ve had Jim and now his wife over to our house a few times.

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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.

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Butler With Benefits

I’ll admit I’m a wealthy man. 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. Then, World War II came along, and leather could not be spared to make new shoes, so he had even more 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.

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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.

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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!