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.
