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The Masturbationist

by Jeremy J. Watson

The XXY Guy

Table of Contents

It was an ordinary morning until my second appointment of the day. A first-time client was in the waiting room. His name was Cary. When I beckoned him into the ‘treatment’ room, I was immediately surprised by his appearance. He was tall, perhaps 6′ 3″ or so. But he was also young, or at least he certainly seemed so. Now, I’m not personally opposed to working on anyone no matter how young they may be, if they want my treatment. But to make sure I’m staying legal, I won’t work with any client under 18 years old. I felt I had to card Cary. It was embarrassing to have him haul out his driver’s license, because sure enough, he was 20 years old. I would imagine he gets carded a lot, but still, I always want my clients to be comfortable with my service, especially first time clients, and carding them isn’t exactly the best way to gain rapport.

Now that I knew he was old enough, I was starting to get excited. I seldom notice my clients sexually any more, but this guy was excellent. Not only was he tall, but he wore his black hair long, had a strong chin and a chiseled, beardless, almost feminine face. His voice was somewhat high, and he had perfect diction, with perhaps just a trace of a country accent. He was quite slim overall, and his skin was porcelain white. I found out later that he is a nightclub saxophonist, and as is typical of such musicians, he seldom gets out in the sunlight.

As with all new clients, I took a minute to explain my service, put on some inconspicuous music, and invited Cary to take off his clothes and set them on a chair I have for the purpose. Some new clients are a bit hesitant to take off their clothes. If I were a doctor doing an exam, they’d probably all jump right to it, but I’m a masturbationist, and they’ve never run into the likes of me before, so I can understand their nervousness.

Some of my clients will hesitate, ask unnecessary questions, and so on. Not Cary. He was bolder than many. All he said was, “My friend Jason, who’s a client of yours, told me all about how this works. You want me to take off all my clothes, right?”

He started peeling off his stuff right away. Off came his jacket, his shoes, then his socks. I noticed he had wonderful, long, white feet. Then he took off his shirt, and here was a surprise: Not only did he have no hair on his chest, but he had tits! Not large knockers like a typical woman, but he very definitely had some development there, with large diameter, pronounced dark brown nipples, too.

I didn’t say anything, but I think my dick inflated a notch or two in my pants.

Then, without fanfare or embarrassment, he whipped off his pants, and his underwear, all in one smooth move. As he did so, he said, “Well, I guess there’s no need hiding anything from you – you massage people’s genitals, after all. I’m sure you’ve seen all types.

“I have,” I said. But I spoke a moment too soon. Because I’d never seen anything like Cary’s stuff. First, there was not a hair or a shadow of a hair to be found anywhere near his dick, or even on his legs. Oh, many of my clients shave things, but his skin was smoother. Especially his scrotum, which was very white, smooth, and showing blue streaks of the blood vessels underneath. Then, I did notice a few wispy hairs around the top. His scrotum appeared to be drawn tight. No surprise there, since even though it is warm, almost too warm, in my office, he came from outdoors, and it was a cool morning. But his scrotum was a bit smaller than usual. His penis, on the other hand, was really small. Skinny and short. And it, too, was porcelain white. I swear, it was a good thing I carded him, because looking at his crotch, and his beautiful, smooth, skinny legs, I would have sworn he was a tall twelve-year-old.

I tried not to react, but I think he saw me stop in my tracks just a second too long. So, he explained.

It turns out Cary is an XXY guy. He is one of the one-in-fifteen thousand men who have an extra X chromosome in every cell of their bodies. You’d think this would be a horrible birth defect, from which one could never live. But in fact, according to Cary, many men who are XXY don’t even know it. Many have no external symptoms. Those who do are like Cary. They tend to be tall, they have breasts, and their genitals are small.

I responded by telling him the truth. I told him that I found his particular look very attractive. Of course I followed that statement by telling him I would remain professional throughout the treatment. I think I saw a trace of disappointment in his face.

So now it was time to begin. I ran my hands under warm water and applied some antiseptic which dried immediately. I had Cary lay face down on the table, and I ran my hands lightly over his ass and upper legs. I pressed my hands down without much pressure into the gap between his upper legs, and he reacted as I was hoping for, he opened his legs a bit. I massaged around the area forming the junction of ass and upper legs and pressed in a bit more, until his perfect, hairless asshole was well exposed. Ever so lightly I started running my fingertips over the radial lines, the slightly browner area just around the hole itself. He grunted his approval. I maintained that very tickle-light touch around his asshole for at least a full minute. I couldn’t tell from my angle, but if he was like most clients, his penis was hardening nicely under his belly. I brushed over the asshole itself a few times, but did not press in. I also lightly tickled the back of his scrotum.

Then, I instructed Cary to turn over. Yup, his tiny bald penis was rock hard. Oh, it was still small, perhaps 4 inches long, but it was hard. Cary’s foreskin didn’t appear to be circumcised, but it was not especially long, so the head of his penis was protruding most of the way.

Ever so softly, I touched his scrotum. Some guys are ticklish when I do that, so I was careful not to set off the wrong response. But Cary was fine. So, with the thumbs, and first and second fingers of both hands, I lightly grabbed his scrotum, and just started rubbing and pulling gently under his balls. Then I moved my hands up, and grabbed his balls themselves through his upper scrotum. So, I had one testicle in each hand, between thumb, and first two fingers. They were surprisingly small, causing me to wonder if this guy could actually ejaculate, and how much comes out if he does.

I lightly massaged his balls within his scrotum, and then slowly, started applying more pressure. Oh, I never built up to a lot of pressure, but enough to let Cary know he’s alive. I asked if he wanted some massage oil, and he did, so I applied some of my most slippery oil. I spent the next ten minutes massaging his balls, ignoring his rock hard, sticking-straight-up cock entirely. It was obvious that Cary was in heaven.

When it was time, I slowly moved my hands up past the top of his scrotum, and massaged the area above his cock, and then touched the lower shaft of the cock itself. It twitched with anticipation. It was also showing a drop of pre-cum at the tip.

Now, you’d expect, as Cary probably did, that I would start right in with stroking his dick at that point. But that would only result in an early ejaculation, and there was still more pleasure to be had first.

With a liberal application of oil, with one hand I pulled his foreskin totally away from his glans – the head of his penis, and with the other, I ever so tickle-lightly touched the glans. Another grand twitch form Cary. I started slowly, lightly stroking his glans only, while holding his foreskin down. I brushed a fingertip over the peehole a few times. This guy was in heaven, as are all my larger-dicked clients. It doesn’t matter what size one’s equipment is, we all have the same enjoyment.

I took a break from the light glans rubbing to run my finger up the underside of his penis from the scrotum to the tip, and as I’m sure you know, that’s a delightful feeling. Then I focused on the frenulum – the bit of skin right at the juncture of the underside of the glans and the shaft, just touching it as lightly as I could.

I’ll keep the story short by letting you know that I did similar techniques until I had used up 35 minutes. Then, I wrapped one hand around his penis, stroked up and down perhaps three times, and Cary squirted a good amount of cum out. It shot quite a distance, with one glob landing on his neck. I gave him a dozen more very gentle strokes to cool him down, and when I saw it was enough, I handed him a towel and stepped back. I told Cary he could relax a few minutes, which he did. Then he put his clothes back on, paid me, and booked an appointment for the following week.

Between Cary’s appointment and the next, I called one of my trade clients, and booked a session for myself for later in the day. Yes, Cary got me hard, and I could hardly wait for my own session later in the day. I’d be remembering Cary as I was getting my treatment.

That was several months ago. Cary has been one of my regulars. He likes to come by Wednesdays at 3pm. He tells me that he feels my treatments are helping enlarge his penis. I don’t think it’s true, but he enjoys believing it.

The Masturbation Business

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So, I have a unique job in a large city.

I am a professional masturbationist. It started four years ago, when I was desperate for work, Being a college dropout, my choices were limited. Oh, I was fairly educated, but self-educated, which doesn’t really count. For eight years, I had been working for Eastman Kodak as a programmer. I never met my boss, because I worked from home. I was hired because of a website I created that gave away free tips and techniques for a programming language called Delphi, which few people use any more. But Kodak recognized my expertise, and hired me for a few hours of phone-based consultation. Then they had another project, and then another. One day, they just went ahead and hired me as an employee. They paid good money, but like a fool, I spent it all. Should have saved it! So, when Delphi finally died to the point where even Kodak didn’t need it any more, I was out of work, and unhirable as an expert in a dead field.

Knowing I could not find work as a programmer, I thought about options, such as house calls for computer repair or instruction. But there are already way too many people offering that in my city. I placed ads on Craigslist anyway, in case I could get a bit of work as a computer consultant. But no one wrote back. So, in an insane moment, I placed another ad on Craigslist stating that I would come to people’s homes with my portable massage table, and give them handjobs.

People wrote back! Not knowing any better, I answered the first one and made arrangements. I got there and discovered a fit, 60-something-year-old bald man who was all eager for me to ‘do my thing,’ as he called it. I was nervous about doing this brand new thing, but hey, I needed the money. And, it wasn’t like I’d never given a handjob before. I’m an experienced bisexual.

I had him take off his clothes and lay face down on the table. I was somehow shocked to see that he had shaved everything. No hair on his chest, legs, and especially not on his crotch. So there he was, and I started sort of randomly rubbing his shoulders, back, arms and then his feet, calves, legs and finally his butt. I couldn’t see for sure, but I believe he had a hardon under his belly. I asked him to flip over, and sure enough, it was quite hard. I rubbed his arms, his hands, his legs again. I didn’t know anything about massage, but this was how I supposed I should start. Then, I ever so slightly started tickling his scrotum as I massaged his upper legs near it. I became bolder, and started actually massaging his balls. The fellow told me he loved this, and so I kept doing it for another two minutes or so. Guess what? From merely massaging his balls, he came. Squirt after squirt. Then, again not knowing any better, and figuring the time wasn’t nearly done yet, I tried to stroke his cock, but he squirmed and told me he had enough. He was satisfied. I was there about a half hour, and once again showed my stupidness. I charged him $15. He gave me a tip, so I got $20. He also set an appointment to have me come back in a week.

Well, as I said, that was four years ago. In that time, I have had many clients, and learned many things. To start with, I soon learned I didn’t have to drive all over town and set up and fold up my table over and over again at everyone’s houses and offices. I rented a nice office of my own, decorated it nicely with a lot of nice little wooden things I picked up at garage sales, and now the people all come to me. And no more $15 per massage. Hell no! Now, it is $60, and I tend to get $20 and even $40 tips, besides. I’ making more money than ever in my life. Almost every massage starts off as a nice comfy testicle manipulation, followed by a hand job. I don’t do anything resembling full massages, so it is easy work. I have done as many as ten clients in one day, making almost $1,000. That’s more than twice what my old job paid.

I used to worry about doing something illegal. But I don’t do massages. I’m not a massage therapist. And, I’m not doing anything like prostitution, and there’s nothing medical about it. So, I’ve fallen through the cocks. And of course, none of my clients would ever rat on me to any sort of official. Nevertheless, I have made it a point to accept money only after the visit is finished. This way, if a cop were to try entrapment, the poor fellow would actually have to take his clothes off, and get a full treatment first. And they would never, ever do that!

it is interesting to me that some clients like a very gentle touch, and others like it rough. Some will ejaculate from being touched with just a tickle. In fact, I have learned to keep a feather on hand for these clients. They especially like it when I ever so slowly “feather” the underside of their dicks, right where the little fold of tight skin meets the head, called the frenulum, if they are circumcised, and a bit lower if they are uncut. This often makes their dicks jump and twitch to an amazing extent. And, this is my favorite. I really like doing this feather thing to guys.

Others really like their balls practically squished. This is the same amount of pressure that would have other clients yell at me and never come back. Yet these guys get mad if I don’t squeeze hard enough. Balls aren’t like grapes. You can’t actually squish them with mere hand pressure. They’re so rubbery they just deform around your fingertips. And then there are some, probably the majority, actually, that like me to start gentle, and then work up in a rougher and rougher hand job, until by the time they cum, they are being worked over quite firmly.

There are some that like me to grab their shaft in one hand, and rub the palm of my hand over the tip. It makes them squirm deliciously. I have had it done to me, and it feels like you have to get away, yet you want to stay for more. Sometimes it feels like you have to pee, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to cum, but it doesn’t happen. You’re just in a happy yet tortured, squirmy bliss for quite a while.

You would think I’d want these guys to cum right away, so I can get on to the next client. But no, they book 45 minutes, and I’d have nothing to do if we finish too soon, so I try my best to edge people. This means I keep them just below the orgasmic limit for as long as possible. Some of the ‘experts’ will actually have orgasmic contractions several times during a session, yet they won’t ejaculate, or they’ll just ejaculate a drop or two without losing their erections.

I have a variety of creams and oils on hand. Some don’t want anything, others like a creamy treatment. I have a shower in the office, which I keep well stocked with towels. Some men need to take a shower before the session starts, many want to after.

Some guys will talk to me, telling me exactly what to do at every step. Others don’t say anything. I have learned to read the quiet ones fairly well. I can tell when they’re liking a particular technique somewhat, and when they’re loving it. I can usually tell when they’re getting too close, and can back off just the right amount if is early in the session. Some will not talk about anything in their lives. They just want my treatment, and are either silent or tell me to move my hand there, or do this, or that, or ‘harder’ or ‘softer.’ Others will spill out their whole life story. I love hearing these, but they are the worst clients, because they often get so involved in talking that they forget to enjoy what’s happening in their genital region.

I tell everyone up front that I don’t guarantee they’ll have an orgasm. It’s a forty-five minute session, and it is up to them to make the most of it – to enjoy it no matter what happens. I have learned to instruct new clients that there is a good chance they won’t cum, especially in their first session, due to nervousness or unfamiliarity, and that it’s fine. Some don’t even get erect for the first twenty minutes or so. I kind of train them that not cumming can be as nice as cumming, since it keeps you charged up all day.

Some of my client are gay, but the majority are straight or bisexual. Most are married. Most are also over 40 yeas old. The younger ones generally can’t afford my service. I have had some remarkably elderly clients. Surprisingly, they are mostly like the younger ones. Oh, sometimes it takes longer for them to have erections, and sometimes they don’t stay as hard for as long, but they are energetic, and love their orgasms just as much. A few of them have had their prostates removed. They don’t ejaculate, but they orgasm just as strongly. Some say the juiceless orgasms are actually stronger. A couple have had their nerves destroyed due to their prostatectomies. They can’t get hard any more, but they love having their genitals worked on just as much as anyone else. One fellow had a colostomy bag. It grossed me out momentarily, but I got used to it, and we both enjoyed the session. In fact, he’s one of my regular customers.

Some of my customers are as thin as rails, but most of my customers have a pretty good beer belly going on. Some are downright fat. To my surprise, while I was at first turned off by the heavyset guys, I have come to love them just as much as anyone else. Heavyset has become ‘normal’ to me. This is true with age, as well. I’m embarrassed to say that when I was in my teens and twenties, I was quite agist. Now, I have really come to appreciate the wisdom and calmness of the elderly crowd.

My city is quite a melting pot, so I get all skin colors. I’m not the least prejudiced, or at least not that I’m aware of. But I do particularly like the exotic looking fellows.

Some guys are hairy, some are naturally not hairy, and some are shaved to various degrees. It doesn’t make much difference to me, but if pressed to pick one style, I say my favorites are the guys who shave everything. In this day and age, shaving at least some part besides the face is common. And I’m glad men can do that without feeling ‘funny.’ I’d say the majority of my clients shave their balls, but leave the rest of their hair natural. I’m told it cuts down on potential cases of jock itch. Several have full facial beards, but shave their crotch. Seems strange, doesn’t it? But, then that describes me, too. I’m just a year short of 60 years old, fit, not heavyset in the least, but not stick-thin, I’m white, and balding on top. I shave my cheeks and neck, leaving a trimmed beard elsewhere, and I shave my scrotum, and trim the hairs above and around my dick very short. I try to blend the length of the hairs above my crotch into the hairs on my belly and elsewhere, so the look is uniform.

A few of the married guys tell me their wives don’t ‘put out’ any more. Most have a good sex life, but just want something more as well. I believe those wives who know what’s going on appreciate my service because it cuts down on their husband’s horniness, the demands for sex when they’re not really into it. Then too, a horny man is more likely to cheat in a marriage. I don’t think you could say what I offer is cheating in any form, as long as the husband tells his wife, and she is OK with the arrangement. After all, she gets facials, massages, and manicures.

Once, a man wanted to know if he could bring his wife. I was excited by the prospect. I thought I might do something to her also, but no, she just sat on a stool and watched him get his treatment. She was a great-looking gal. About 45 years old, trim, large but not huge breasts, shapely legs, nice smile, beautiful reddish hair in a long straight style. Just having her in the room was a treat for me.

Ah, but he came back a week later, and surprised the heck out of me by saying that she was to get the treatment instead. So, while he sat on the stool, I gave her a rare massage. (Remember, I don’t generally do full body massages anymore). But I kind of realized that many women are more turned on by full body work first.

Actually, it is more than just ‘kind of realized.’ From my work as a programmer, I learned that research is very important, and am in the habit of learning as much as I can about whatever I do. So, during the past four years, I have read everything I could get my hands on about massage, masturbation, penises, and vaginas, too.

After a fair amount of massage time, I then went on to rub her clit, and eventually placed fingers in her butt and vagina. She loved this and came four or five times. All I know is that there was a good bit of fluid on my fingers from her session. Sadly, she was satisfied, and never came back with him. At least not yet. That’s one of the few women I have worked on. I’d love to have more female clients.

Yes, I did put a finger in her butt. And I’ll do it for some of my men as well, upon request. I rather enjoy it, because I get to feel their contractions when they cum, men and women. Oh, sometimes you can’t tell – you can’t feel any anal contractions when a man or a woman orgasms, but most of the time, you can feel it quite strongly.

For that, I do wear gloves to be sure I’m being safe for everyone. But I don’t do anal work all that often. I’m not really sure why. I have heard that prostate massages are good for one’s health, so I suppose I should make a point of extending that part of my service.

I have three clients who are sort of like pro bono. They don’t have much money, so what we do is trade treatments. Sometimes they come by and I give them a treatment. Sometimes they do me, which of course, I love! Sometimes, I experiment with techniques that I wouldn’t try on a paying client, with these pro bono guys. They almost always appreciate being the first to try something new, such as frenulum shaking. Then, when I’m in the mood, I’ll call one of these three guys – plus I have some other friends I can call – and I’ll have them ‘do’ me. Every now and then, we’ll do each other at the same time. When people do me, it is usually handjobs. I don’t really know why, but I’m not much of a fan of anal or blowjobs. That’s just me.

I tend to direct the action when I’m being worked on. I’ll tell a guy that it is time for a bit more oil, or to grab my dick a half-inch higher, or I’ll ask to get rubbed with the palm of a hand. Some of my clients direct me in the same way. You might think I’d find that objectionable, as if I don’t know what I’m doing. But the fact is, I like being directed because I can then offer the best possible service. Some guys are silent about what they’d like. I’ll ask once or twice, but if they are ambiguous, I try my best to feel my way into it, and give them good service also.

The Masturbationist Strikes Again

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I’ve got a one-hour break between clients, so I’ll tell you about the client who was just here, a first-time customer. We’ll call him Fred. He was fairly typical of the clients who come to me for the first time. Nervous and talky. I guess those who talk a lot at the beginning do so to overcome a mild fear. They don’t quite know what’s going to happen in a session, so they are of course concerned.

When I was starting out in this business, I’d let some of these guys waste the first twenty minutes of their sessions in asking questions and ‘getting ready.’

Now, when I get someone like Fred, I try to make them as comfortable as possible as soon as possible. I put some handjob videos being given to men from males and females on the computer screen. I keep the room at 76 degrees Fahrenheit. Perhaps a bit uncomfortable for me, but it makes people more inclined to take off their clothes. It seems most new clients are either concerned that they’ll have an erection, or that they won’t have an erection when they are ‘supposed to.’

So, as I’m washing and disinfecting my hands, I tell them that everyone is different. That I’ve had people who start out erect, or start out soft, and that some are gay, some straight, and some can’t be easily categorized. I remind them that they’re paying for a service that’s entirely for them, and that they can let me know all the way through what they like, and what they don’t like.

So Fred, about 24 years old, who wears his curly black hair long like a musician – because, as I later found out, he is a musician, came in all talky. I gave him the talk about ‘everyone’s different’ and asked him to remove this clothing, and lay it on a chair I have for the purpose.

I claim I don’t do massages, but for a new client, I’ll sometimes do what it takes to get them comfortable, hard, and horny. So, I start by asking him to lay face down on the table. I gave him a little shoulder and neck rub, then worked on his feet, calves and backs of his thighs. I massaged his buttocks, then spread his legs a bit exposing his asshole and scrotum. I circled around his asshole, but did not enter it. This gives almost everyone an erection, plus it just feels nice. Then I asked him to flip over. Also typical of a new client, he was reluctant. He didn’t want me to see his erection. The new client has come for genital massage, most likely ending in an ejaculation, yet at first many are embarrassed to show their erection. Go figure! I think they have been seldom if ever seen in an erect state by another man.

But, like all of them, he did flip over. And instead of going right for the penis, I rubbed his shoulders, arms and hands again. As I rubbed his palms, his erection hardened fully, so the head of his dick was smooth and shiny. This always happens with palms for some reason. Try it with your friends and see if I’m right.

I massaged his feet then his lower legs, occasionally bushing his scrotum. In my early days, I’d have some clients ejaculate when I first touched the scrotum. So now, I’m more experienced, and I do things differently for the ones who would cum too quickly. Of course such a short session for me would be less work, but I enjoy it more if they don’t cum that soon. Besides, I noticed that fewer of the early ejaculators booked repeat sessions, while almost everyone else does.

So then I started focusing on his scrotum, first lightly touching the skin with my warm fingers, then feeling his testicles themselves. I worked up slowly, until I was holding one ball in each hand, between thumbs and first and second fingers. I take my time, squeezing gently, then pulsing. In other words, I’ll squeeze a bit harder for a quarter-second, then relent back to the lower pressure. I’ll switch that off with rolling my thumbs over the guy’s balls.

This is where it gets tricky. I try to understand what each client is going to want. Some love a light testicle massage. Some like it surprisingly firm. Some in between, and some not at all. Sometimes I have to ask what they prefer. Usually, I can tell. Fred liked it firm – a man after my own heart.

I spent perhaps 15 minutes doing the squeezing pulsing thing, switching off with some teasing strokes of the now very hard penis. He was getting close to ejaculating, so I focused entirely on the testicles. But today, I wasn’t paying quite enough attention, and Fred’s cock suddenly became very hard, and he started ejaculating right there on his stomach, even though I hadn’t touched his cock in the last five minutes.

Then I stroked him slowly and gently until he started squirming just a bit, to bring him back down to earth. We talked a bit, he put on his clothes, and paid me. Then like almost all newbies, even though post-orgasmic, he was enthusiastic to book another session for next week.

Female Clients

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Someone asked whether I get female clients. I do, but it is rare, perhaps one in fifty. I’d enjoy a higher ratio, even though I do also very much still enjoy a hard cock in my hands.

One of my recent female clients came to see me about a week ago. She’s a semi-regular. She comes on average perhaps once a month. She isn’t like some of the men, who book every Tuesday at 4pm, but she’ll drop me an email every now and then to set up a time.

So Jenna was with me last week for her ‘hour.’ (Actually they’re 45-minute sessions). She is around 42 years old with two teenage daughters, a bit heavy, at 185 pounds, and 5′ 4″ tall, but the cool thing is that she used to weigh a whole lot more. She tells me she started shedding weight when she discovered she had gone over 300 pounds. I asked her how she managed to lose so much, and she said, “I just decided.” Wow, I’d like ta have that kind of resolve for things in my life.

Anyway, she has light skin and dark hair. Oddly, she says she is a natural blond. I’ve never heard of someone who dyes her hair darker. She doesn’t really look fat, with or without clothes. She just has a big butt. And for those who like such things, I must tell you that sadly, she continues to lose weight, and soon her butt will be down to a healthy size also. Since my own preference is skinny chicks, that’s excellent with me.

The first thing I noticed when she took her clothes off for the first time, besides the fact that she’s beautiful, is that she has a big fold of skin that hangs from her lower belly almost down to her vagina. You’d think that reminder of her fat days would be a turn-off, but I don’t really believe it is.

But she wasn’t here to impress me or get me horny, although when any of my female customers come by, and some of the men for that matter, I do get horny. But I stay professional. Few of them know that they ‘affect’ me.

Jenna used to be a truck driver until she came down with fibromyalgia. Now she is technically disabled, although one doesn’t see anything visibly wrong with her. Evidently, she has a lot of muscle soreness. She says my treatments help her a lot.

She used to drive full-size 18-wheelers. I admire women who do what they want to do, even if it is traditionally a man’s job. And, like typical male truckers, she is not afraid to say what she thinks, and do what she wants, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Hence, here she is in my office again for a treatment.

Being the ex-trucker she is, her clothes are off in an instant, and she is face down on my table. She’s been here enough times that I know what she likes. So I start right in by gently pulling her ample ass cheeks apart and every so lightly touching her asshole. I don’t penetrate it. I just touch it super light, and then after a few minutes, I press on it – no oil, just my bare index finger, and still, I don’t penetrate. I just press a little more. Jenna squirms a bit. I touch the area between her vagina and her anus in slight stroking motions. Very feather-light.

Then I have her lift up so she is on her knees with her butt n the air. I reach through her legs, under her ass and lightly stroke the surface of her shaved vagina a few times. Then, I grab a spot of KY, and slowly push a finger deeper, and deeper into her ass. I feel a couple of light contractions, as she moans and kind of hums a bit. I move my finger in and out about a half-inch a few times, then I slowly remove it. I apply some disinfectant to my hands, and then repeat the process with more KY, but this time, I don’t penetrate her ass, but instead her vagina. First with one finger, and slowly, very slowly turn it around, and move in and out just a little bit. Then for fun, I hold my finger in her perfectly still for an entire minute, then pull it out quickly. She knows what’s coming next, and her legs are shaking with delight and anticipation.

I have her roll over onto her back and put her lugs up in the air. She grabs the back of her knees with her hands, presenting me with a perfect view of her open vagina and anus. Her vagina is gaping open somewhat.

I playfully, push my little finger into her peehole just a bit. I mean, not even a quarter-inch, just to let her know what’s in her future. But not today. I know she’ll want the full urethral treatment someday, because she moans, jitters with convulsions of anticipation, and angles her body, trying to get me to press in further. Today, she’s going to get what she indicated she wanted last time she was here. Last time, I worked two, three, and four fingers into her vagina, while she had orgasm after orgasm. I got so far as to add my thumb to the mix, and pressed a bit, but that’s as far as it went. You’d think someone who has had babies would find fisting easy, but in my experience, women who have had or not had babies are equal in their ability to take fisting. It is more about practice, or maybe the size a person is born with, than pregnancies stretching the vaginal opening.

Today, we’re going to try full fisting. I’ve applied a remarkable amount of KY jelly to my hand and to her pussy, and rubbed it in all around the edges very nicely, taking a ridiculous amount of time doing so. Anticipation, you know! Now, finally, I put two fingers in her, then three. Slowly. Slowly. Now four. Now my thumb, too. And I press, and I twist. Gently at first. I ask, “OK?” and she is delighted, “Yes, perfectly OK!” I press and twist some more. “Still OK?” “Yes!” And I press and twist some more. Watching her face. And I see her wince, so I back off a bit. But she tells me not to. So I press some more, and very slowly, I feel her vagina stretch like it never has before, or at least not since her daughters were born. She’s wincing like crazy, mixed with the occasional whispered “ouch.” I ask if she wants to stop. No, she doesn’t. I can feel her cervix with my fingertips. I’d love to push a finger into her uterus, but that, too, is for another time. I press my fist in her a bit more, then suddenly, “That’s enough.” So I pull out. I never did get my fist all the way in. Which is great. She’ll get to savor full fisting another time.

I give her a moment to rest. Then I press a finger into her anus and feel around a bit. I pull out. I put on more disinfectant. Then more KY on two fingers, and press them into her very open and willing vagina. I enter palm-upward, with my two fingers curled, and rub that special spot on the front inside edge of her pussy. She orgasms instantly. I read her face, and as is typical of Jenna, she wants more. Some of you men may not know this, but many women – not all – can have orgasm after orgasm, seemingly all day long. So, I continue to rub her G-spot for probably fifteen whole minutes, and she has multiple orgasms. For my own amusement, I place the index finger of my other hand well into her anus, and I can feel the contractions from each orgasm. Sometimes, she may be squirting, but I’m not sure. All I know is that there is a lot more liquid around my fingers and on the sheet under her than there was when we started. Finally, the time is up, and I let her down slowly, with a final, gentle, slow orgasm. And for a final touch, I do something I haven’t done all session, I rub her clitoris, leaving her with one final, shattering orgasm.

I cover her with a blanket and let her lie still for five minutes. Then, she gets up, heads or my shower, and comes back after ten minutes, with a glow and look of refreshment that far exceeds what most of my men show after a session.

Favorite Client

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I have several favorite clients. Generally, the one I’m with currently is the favorite. But here’s a story about a guy who came for a session yesterday. He schedules a session every Thursday at 10am.

We’ll call him James. He is around 24 years old, with full African ancestry so he is as black as anyone I have ever seen. He is skinny as a rail, and has black hair that he keeps rather long. I’d guess James is about 6′ 1″ tall. He has had several sessions with me, so I have learned what he likes. James is a man of few words, and during our recent sessions, almost nothing is said, and nothing needs to be said.

So, here it was 10am, and he entered the outer office. I invited him into the ‘treatment’ room, and after brief pleasantries, he whipped off his clothing and sat on the table. I noticed he wasn’t wearing any underwear. I also noticed that his cock is somewhat longer than average, and also fatter than average. It was already standing at full attention.

He laid on his back and I got right to work. Using no oil, as is his preference, I started by ever so lightly touching his sack. I lifted his balls up a bit, and just sort of tickled the lower reaches of his shaved scrotum. His rock-hard, large cock started twitching a bit. I continued to tickle his scrotum for several minutes.

Then, I gently wrapped one hand around his shaft and simply held his circumcised penis for perhaps a minute. I could feel occasional twitches of anticipation.

Next, I started the part that James just loves. With the very lightest touches possible, I stroked the head of his penis. I circled my fingertips around the peehole, and occasionally brushed directly over his peehole.

That’s all I did. I continued holding his cock gently in one hand, while ever-so-lightly touching his glans with the fingertips of my other hand. Then, without warning (as if I wasn’t expecting it), he broke into a series of ejaculations. Lots of cum. Big smile, but still no words.

After a minute, he wiped the cum off his belly, got up, have me my $60 plus he gave me a joint (which I don’t smoke, but which I pretended was a great gift – I would have preferred a cash tip). We exchanged a couple more pleasantries, confirmed next week’s appointment, and out he went, back into the big anonymous city.

I Thought I Was All Special

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I thought I was all special because of a jerking off technique I learned, but it turns out, many guys have learned it, and many of my clients can do it even better than I can.

I’m talking about edging, which I described earlier. I learned to masturbate right to the edge of ejaculating, then holding back, so I can ride the edge, sometimes for hours before I cum. I actually have several mini-orgasms, so it might be somewhat like many women can do.

You can learn it too. All you do is keep practicing. Jerk off any way you like until you are just about to squirt. Then slow down, or even quit touching yourself entirely for a moment. The feeling will subside. At first, it will be nice, but one of two things will happen. Either it won’t be great, or you’ll be so into the rising feeling of impending ejaculation that you can’t or won’t stop. Or, a third thing might happen. You’ll think you managed to stop in time, bu you end up squirting anyway.

But in time you get so good at it that you can have orgasmic contractions, but nothing comes out. But here’s the really excellent part: You can keep going in a minute. Normally, after an orgasm, you have to stop. You become too sensitive. You’re done. You don’t feel horny any more. But with the juiceless orgasms of edging, you’re almost instantly ready for more.

On a good day, you can even release a drop of sperm, but not a full ejaculation, and you’re good for more edging. Or, if you’re ready to call it a day, you can have a double orgasm. First a drop or two comes out, then a moment later, you have a full orgasm and ejaculation. And, often, that full orgasm is excruciatingly beautiful. It is a very good, hard, major orgasm! Almost too much.

Now, I must admit that the non-ejaculatory orgasms are only perhaps 70% as strong as the regular kind. But what a trade-off – you get to orgasm time and again, all afternoon if you want! And, if that’s not enough for you, your final ejaculation at the end of your session will be at least as good as normal masturbation, and likely to be much stronger.

Some ‘experts’ don’t come at all. I’ve done it that way, but I usually come after an hour or two. But the experts will edge once or twice (or more) per day, but not ejaculate, for even weeks at a time. This keeps them sexually charged up all the time. They say it makes them feel overall more alive, healthy, physically strong, and alert. From my experience, that seems to be true. A few have reported that it makes their balls ache a bit. I have not experienced that. I think if so, it goes away with practice.

Now, here’s the thing. I’ve gotta do it myself. If I have someone else give me a handjob, we always get the timing wrong. Even if I direct the action (“Hey stop. Wait a sec. OK, keep going.”) After a couple of near-orgasms, I end up cumming with a full ejaculation in the regular way. Oh, it’s nice, but it doesn’t last, so it’s not nearly as cool as edging.

But a few of my clients, they can do it. I give them my best handjobs, and they can go for the full forty-minute session, orgasming in the first five minutes, then again and again every few minutes, and their orgasms sometimes last and last, more than a minute each. I can tell, because I often place an index finger between their balls and their asshole, where I can easily feel the orgasmic contractions.

Some of my clients can even do it without communication. Oh, it helps that I can pretty much sense what’s going on with them, so I generally know when to back off, and when to resume, but still, they have the skill. I’m almost jealous. It is a skill I’d like to have. So, I keep practicing. And I notice that my solo edging is getting better – lasting longer, with more and longer dry orgasms, and when I get handjobs, which i often do from my ‘pro-bono’ clients with whom I trade sessions, I am getting closer to true edging.

Tight Foreskin

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At this point, I’ll take a little break and tell you a bit more about me. You may be surprised to know I am married. I have been for 28 years, to my first and only wife. We are the best of friends. Oddly, we never argue. I think that’s because we both value peace more than ‘being right.’ For the first many years of our marriage, she was satisfactory, sexually. Not great, but good. I was willing to accept ‘good’ because she has been such a great partner in every other way.

We have a traditional 1950s-style marriage. She actually enjoys keeping the house, making meals and taking care of the clothes. All the domestic chores. And, it is easier for her these days with both of the kids long gone into their own lives. But, she’s never enjoyed the pursuit of money. I, on the other hand, like chasing after the All American Dollar, but don’t care for domestic work at all. So, I make the money, and she keeps our lives in order.

Oh, we did things. We had anal sex. We went to nude beaches. We experimented with a thousand positions. But after her menopause, things changed. She seldom enjoys orgasms any more, and she has become body-shy. Not only will she no longer go to a nude beach, she won’t even let me see her naked very often. It’s not that she has put on weight. Well, she put on a little bit. She has just become self-conscious. I used to think it was me. Like, maybe I was too rough or crude sexually. Or too demanding. Or something. But now, I realize it was a slowly accumulating situation that dates back way before me. She was sexually abused as a child. Fortunately, that didn’t affect us very much when we were younger.

And, she still enjoys giving me hand jobs, yet she doesn’t want anything in return. This is a remarkable thing for me, because of all sexual activities, I have always liked handjobs the most. That may be because of what happened early in my life.

I grow up as a nudist, at least at home. Well, we didn’t specifically make a point of going around without clothes on, but if we are at home, watching TV, for instance, whether my brother, my sisters, I, or my parents had clothes on or not was not significant. So, when I was twelve, my mom noticed a problem. She never told me about it until I was eighteen years old. Here’s the scoop:

My first year of college, I saw a beautiful girl in my computer science class. Blond, petite, well, she was just ideal in appearance. I spoke to her a couple of times and discovered that we had matching intellects (or lack thereof) senses of humor (or lack thereof) and matching personalities, as well. So we went out, and sure enough we started dating. One night, we went all the way. Or attempted to. It hurt. Not her, me! So we quit and she said I should see a doctor, because that’s not normal, but no doubt something that could easily be fixed.

Back at home during Christmas time, I spoke to my mom about it. Yes, it was embarrassing to bring it up, but I knew it had to be discussed. She told me it was called “phimosis” and that she knew I had it from age twelve when she noticed me laying on the floor in front of the TV one evening with an erection, and the skin was stretched tight. I didn’t realize it, but she had spoken to the doctor about it at the time, and he said not to worry. That either I’d grow out of it, or it wouldn’t be a problem.

Well, it was a problem. Mom scheduled an appointment for me. I went to the family doctor and described the problem. The doctor and nurse did all the usual things first – blood pressure, temperature, weight. I was a bit concerned that I might have to get an erection for the doctor to show him the problem. I was also concerned that the female nurse would see. This shouldn’t bother me, being a nudist of sorts, but it did. Or maybe it also excited me. The guy asked the nurse to leave the room, and then asked me to pull down my pants. Geez, at this point, I was figuring he’d have me jerk off in front of him, or maybe even he’d jerk me off to get me hard. Instead, he glanced for like 1/2-second, and then told me to pull my pants up. He didn’t even really see the problem – that when my dick is hard, the skin is rather tight. I never noticed it when jerking, but with the actual sex, it pulled the skin back, and it hurt.

The doctor presented two options: Circumcision or exercises. He said if I would do the exercise of pulling the foreskin back and holding it for several seconds just to the point where it hurt a bit, and if I did it for a few minutes every day, it would stretch. I was much more for that than circumcision. That sounded painful! I would think it would be painful and inconvenient for a week or so while it healed, and I didn’t want to mess up what was left of my Christmas vacation worrying about an operation. So, of course I chose the exercises.

But the problem is, I didn’t do them. The second day after visiting the doc, my mom asked, and I sheepishly admitted that I didn’t actually do anything. She told me, pretty much in no uncertain terms, to do the exercises.

The next day she asked again, and deeply embarrassed, I had to admit that no, once again I skipped out.

She asked me to step into her bedroom. I thought I knew what was coming, I didn’t know the half of it! I thought she was going to look at my penis, and then maybe give me some sort of lecture.

She asked me to take off my clothes and lay on her bed. She said she was going to get me started with the exercises. She was going to do it for me, and then made comparisons to the fact that she, along with my father, were the ones who changed my diapers, taught me how to use the toilet and all the rest, so I shouldn’t be embarrassed if she had to do yet one more ‘mothering chore.’

She then grabbed a large feather that I’m guessing she and my dad used for sex play, since it was in their room. What else does one use a feather for in a bedroom? She explained that I needed to be erect for this exercise to work. Of course I knew that, but she had to say it out loud so the whole event stayed ‘clinical.’ She ever so lightly tickled the underside of my penis with the feather. Oh, what a feeling! No one had ever done that before! Oh, my older brother and younger sisters and I had played doctor a bit, and my brother and I jerked each other off a couple of times, but nothing more. And never anything like this feather tickling. I was hard within thirty seconds.

My mother simply said, “Good.” and put the feather down. She then grabbed my foreskin with the thumbs and forefingers of both hands and tugged slowly downward until I winced. She reminded me it had to be to the point where it just started to hurt (and no more!) to be effective. She held it stretched down in that position for a full minute. The tip of my penis stuck out of the foreskin just a bit, but the problem was obvious. The foreskin was indeed too tight to allow the head to come fully out. I’ve seen pictures, and guys with erections usually have the whole head of their penis exposed. I had never seen the bottom edge of my glans. While she was holding my foreskin down, it started to feel really nice. No pain, just nice! Then she let go, and I felt a brief spasm in reaction to the letting go – almost like an ejaculation was going to start. The feeling subsided as quickly as it came. After a few seconds, she pulled the foreskin down and held it for a while again. I started to feel that ‘I’m going to cum’ feeling. She let go. Another brief and very enjoyable spasm. I was starting to think I might just go ahead and cum if she kept this up, but she didn’t. She said, “OK Jeremy, now you’ve got to do that every day, maybe even twice a day, on your own,” and walked out of the room.

Five minutes later, I was in my own bedroom with the door locked so my sisters wouldn’t come in, and was masturbating like crazy. It took me less than a minute to ejaculate big time!

I started doing the exercises regularly. Sometimes even four and five times a day, inspired by the memory of my mother with the feather, holding my foreskin, and all that. I came after my exercises almost every time.

Back at college, several weeks later, I noticed that my foreskin was sliding farther down the glans. One day, it went POP, and kind of slipped under the glans entirely. It took a bit of stretching to get it to go back up. As soon as it did, I ejaculated. That was just too weird, but great, too! It was an indication of things to come. A few weeks after that, it no longer popped, and did not require stretching to get it back over the glans. It just slipped over. So, I guess I’m cured!

As to my girlfriend, she did help me with the exercises from time to time. In fact, that became our sex life for a while. She gave me handjobs, and I gave her handjobs. Oh, and I enjoyed licking her, too, which she also loved.

One day in late March, something overcame us and we knew it was time to try having sex again. Even though the foreskin problem seemed to be fixed, I was so nervous, I couldn’t get hard enough to enter her. She remember what I related about my mom’s feather, and grabbed a smaller feather she must have been keeping for the occasion, and with that, she got me hard. This girlfriend eventually became my wife, although not right away. We both spent twelve years doing other things, before we met up again at a high school reunion. We’ve been happily married ever since.

Fast forward to today. My wife not only knows about what I do for a living, she encourages it. It brings good money into the household, and she’s all for that. Recently, it paid for our 34-foot diesel motorhome. And, she knows that it helps keep me from desiring sex with her. She has told me that she feels the problem is either psychological or a hormone imbalance. She has worked with some professionals, but so far, she still has little interest in sex. Fortunately, I’m in no hurry for her to come around. I’ve got my freebie clients who I trade with, and she’ll still give me handjobs too. But she is concerned. She misses sex, even if she doesn’t want to have sex. I’ve been trying to get her involved in the business. She is great looking, even if she has a few years on her. I’m sure some of my clients would love to get a treatment from her. And, we could double our business, although actually, we are already making enough to be happy and secure.

One Tough Customer

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Do you remember Jean Luc Picard, commander of the Starship Enterprise in Star Trek, Next Generation? Johan looks just like him. And if that wasn’t enough, Johan has a bit of a German accent, which is somewhat like what Patrick Stewart (Jean Luc Picard) sounds like with his English accent.

Johan is a regular client, my Monday at 4pm man. Not only does he shave his head, but he shaves his entire body.

He started out getting what most of my other clients get, which is what I have come to consider a ‘regular’ treatment. I gently tickled his scrotum, then held his scrotum, then felt his balls, and slowly worked up to a fairly firm grasp on his balls, before going on to perform a handjob. Johan wanted it firmer, so I squeezed and pulsed his balls pretty hard. He never said stop, but I didn’t go beyond a reasonable amount of squeezeitude. At the end of the 45-minute session, I jacked him off deliciously, and I could see it was a good session for him. Of course 99 percent of my sessions are wonderful, but Johan was especially pleased.

Next week, he told me how much he loved the previous week’s session, but he asked whether I could apply more strength. “Power,” he called it. I was reluctant to do so. After all, I don’t want to hurt a guy. But, I didn’t mention my reluctance. I just figured, I’d do about the same thing as last week, let him think I was applying more ‘power,’ and he’d be happy.

There we were about seven or eight minutes into the session, and he specifically asked for more power. What could I do? I’ll tell you what I could do. I arranged a safe word. I told him I would do exactly as he wanted, but I would slowly build up the pressure until he used the safe word, which was “stop.”

And I went to work. I felt OK about it, because I knew whether or not this treatment hurt him was entirely up to him. I have read that the balls are particularly durable, so injury by anything I could do with my hands was not an issue. Now, guys that will tightly tie their scrotums, or use clamps, tools or machines of some sort – they’re taking risks.

Anyway, we went to work. I squeezed and pulsed his balls ever harder. Now, I did make sure to stay off the area in back and on top of his balls where the cord attaches, because to squeeze that area would indeed be painful, and I think possibly injurious. Within a few minutes I was pressing so hard that I could feel the a burn building up in my forearms. I saw the tops of my thumbs were white. But no safe word from Johan. So I kept it up for a few more minutes.

Because I needed a rest, and because I thought he’d get more enjoyment out of it, I suddenly let go. I didn’t touch his balls for a half-minute, then I gently started massaging his balls again. I noticed they were softer. Evidently, the continuous pressure squeezes some of the blood out of them. They deflate a bit. Then, back at it. I started squeezing, and rolling them between my thumbs and forefingers. Johan was wincing, twisting and tensing somewhat, but I could tell he was enjoying every minute of it. The session was nearing an end, so I just stroked his rock-hard, twitching cock for a moment, like maybe three up and down motions, and he squirted all over the place.

We did almost the exact same thing the next week.

For the week after that, I knew he’d want something more. I had a plan for Johan. First, I got right to work with the very hard squeezing and pulsing. Well, actually, I built up to it in a couple of minutes. If you get a guy on your table and you just reach over and instantly squeeze his balls full blast, even if it is Johan, it will be too much. I spent perhaps ten minutes of the session squeezing his balls hard. Very hard. Now it was time for something new.

I let go of his balls, squirted some oil on the tip of his super-hard, but slightly smaller than average penis, and lightly stroked around the peehole. He seemed to like that, but I knew he wouldn’t be satisfied for long.

I placed my palm on his glans – the head of his dick, and rubbed it lightly back and forth a bit. As I suspected, he jumped. As soon as he figured out what I had done, I asked whether he wanted restraints. “Yes, Absolutely!” I have some long cloth things that I can use to tie a guy’s wrists and ankles to the table. I seldom use them, but it is fun when I get a guy who wants restraints.

After I had Johan secured, I grabbed the shaft of his cock with my left hand, and placed the palm of my right on the glans. Then, slowly and lightly at first, I began a circular rubbing motion. Even though it was light, Johan squirmed like crazy. But no safe word. I took that as a sign to increase the torture.

I continued to palm his glans, but with various combinations of rubbing very hard, and rubbing very lightly. I also squeezed his shaft hard, and squeezed it very little. Generally, at the transitions, when I switched from one mode to another of this palming, he’d squirm the most. He even started yelling incoherent things, which is fine, because my office is soundproof. But he did not yell the safe word, “stop.” So I didn’t stop. I kept it up. After a few minutes, I could feel something besides the massage oil on my palm. He had ejaculated.

Do you think I should have stopped at that point and let him recover? Hell no. He hadn’t said the safe word yet, and I had him tied up! So, I kept rubbing, while also stroking up and down with my left hand. You should have seen his post-orgasmic squirming! I was only able to go about a minute, at which point, he finally said the safe word. He sort of whispered it, so I wasn’t quite sure if I heard it or not. Naturally, I kept going. Then he said it quite clearly, so I had to stop, but not before I grabbed one testicle in each hand and gave them a firm, memorable squeeze.

Johan has been back many times. We generally repeat one or the other technique – the ball squeezing or the palm rubbing, but have tried some other things such as anal stretching and careful and very sterile play piercing or urethral sounding. He particularly seems to like when I try to press my little finger into his peehole. So far, I have not been able to get it in past the first knuckle, but it is close. We’ll manage that goal in the next few weeks. Johan is one tough customer!

The Helicopter Guy

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Frederick likes to be called “Frederick,” not “Fred,” He is black, around 45 years old, is built thick but not fat, and is bald. He looks like a guy you’d want to have as your protector in a bad situation. And, knowing him a little bit as I do, I know you could absolutely count on him as a protector. If you look not even very closely at his shaved head, you’ll see a big crescent shaped scar on one side. He had a brain tumor seven years ago. He has lived past the period of time where there was a chance it could recur, so he is most likely going to live as long as any of us. So far as I can tell, he has not lost any functionality from the brain surgery.

He told me a little about it. In fact, he told me about his life overall, and he has lived a fascinating life. He’s one of my more talkative clients. He started out as a troubled youth. He figured it would be a good idea to sign up for the Navy, since he knew his life wasn’t going anywhere. He figured without the Navy, he would have died on the streets of Chicago by now.

So, they taught him to fly helicopters, which he loved. Then they shipped him off to Vietnam, where he flew several missions. Once, ground soldiers shot down his helicopter, and he was hit with a stray bullet. I have seen the scan on his ass where it entered.

After the Navy, he was able to get a series of jobs flying helicopters doing things like installing air conditioners on roofs of big buildings, logging, and air ambulance work. Finally, he landed a job as a radio traffic reporter where he flew around at rush hour and let people know what’s going on in our city.

All was well, and he could have retired with that job, but he started getting goofy. He was having trouble with balance, and worse, he was having hallucinations. He said they were like nightmares, but in the middle of the day, while lucid. He was diagnosed with brain cancer. The tumor was exactly where he had been holding his cell phone to the side of his head for a couple of years. He tells everyone not to do that, these days.

It took him a year to recover from the surgery, and of course he didn’t have a job when he was ready to fly again. So he bought a helicopter of his own, and now he does what he calls ‘odd jobs.’ He is plenty busy, and makes more money than ever before. Enough to easily pay for my service now and then.

Frederick likes to play doctor. Actually, he likes me to play doctor. He is always the patient. And it is always the same. He comes in, and I am already prepared, wearing my scrubs and a stethoscope draped casually around my neck.

I have him take off all his clothes and ask if he wants a gown. No, he doesn’t. Good thing, because I don’t actually have a gown. I listen to his breathing and his heart. I feel the glands in his neck, and run my fingers over the scar on his head. I have him lay back on the table and feel his abdomen for any abnormalities.

Then I explain, as if he hasn’t heard the exact same pitch several times before, that I need to ‘go below’ and check a few routine things.

I have him stand next to the table, while I roll over on a short stool. I grab his monsterously erect dick in one hand, and explore the opening with the other. Good, no discharge. I squeeze the glans, and then the shaft all the way down looking for anything suspicious. I pull the foreskin all the way forward, and all the way back. Since he is not circumcised, and since his foreskin is a bit tight, I have to take a long time examining the foreskin, of course.

Then I explain that young men such as himself (he’s 45) have to have their testicles checked. At that point, I do a full palpitation of his balls. His penis twitches a couple of times as I gently feel all the way around each testicle.

We do a quick hernia check, which tickles him somewhat, so he squirms, but I explain that it is necessary.

Now, we have to do the rectal exam. I make a big show of snapping on a rubber glove, then coat the index fingertip with KY gel. I could have him lay sideways on the table for the rectal exam. That’s the way my doctor did it for me last time. But instead, I have him stand on the floor with his feet a good distance apart, and lean over the table. I do a good, thorough rectal exam, finally slowly – ever so slowly withdrawing my finger, and then discard the glove.

Next, I tell him that his prostate was just slightly enlarged, which he and I both know is not true. I tell him that the suspicious prostate necessitates a sample.

I have him get on the table on his hands and knees, while I put on another glove and squirt out some more KY. I generously lube his asshole with the gel, and slowly press my finger back in. Way in, and I start slowly and gently massaging his prostate. At the same time, with my other, ungloved left hand, I grab his rock-hard cock and start just moving my fist up and down on it a bit. He moans with pleasure.

I keep up the slight pressing and rubbing on his prostate, while he tells me it feels like he needs to pee. I tell him not to worry about that, he won’t pee. But something else will come out. We’re going to be expressing a bit of semen. Sure enough, it starts to drip out of his peehole. He tells me he can feel it moving up through his urethra. I increase the up and down motion with my left hand. His dick gets even harder. But not for long. With my finger in his butt, he ejaculates all over the sheet on the table, as I place a microscope slide to catch some of his jizz. I place the slide in the box, explaining that it will go to the lab for testing. I tell Frederick that I think he is in fine health, but he should come back next week for his test results.

And the next time he comes back, we repeat exactly what happened this time. He loves it, and doesn’t want to vary from the routine at all.

Final Words

Table of Contents

A hundred people have asked whether I am taking new clients. I’m not. Sorry. I actually have a full schedule. There could be more masturbationists in my city. I would welcome the ‘competition.’ Furthermore, there are cities all over the world that need practitioners. I’d encourage you to become a masturbationist if you feel the calling.

Gosh, what if you’re a good-looking female? As easy as it was for me, an aging, regular-looking guy, I’d imagine it would be as easy as falling off a log for a young woman to do this sort of work. Although, I suppose to some, it would seem rather similar to prostitution. I’ll leave it to you to figure out how you feel about that. Like, is prostitution really a bad thing? What if it is a good thing? What if in a slightly different society, it was considered beneficial to relieve men of their sexual tensions, so they could behave better in social settings, with their wives, and so on?

You need to be tolerant of various types of individuals. Not only various body types, but personalities, too. Some are loud, some are demanding, some have weird beliefs that they want to tell you about. You also need to be thick-skinned. What will your friends and relatives think when they find out what you’re doing for a living? At minimum, some will consider it ‘gay,’ which they, in their foolishness, deem a ‘bad’ thing. Interestingly, everyone I know has been tremendously supportive. Most express disbelief, followed by wishing they could do the same thing for a living, followed by wanting to get me in a quiet place so they can book a session. It’s kind of weird working on friends and relatives at first, especially if they expect a big discount. (I charge $40 for friends. They’re always happy with that.)

I think you need to be an empathetic individual. If you can’t sense what a guy is feeling, you probably wouldn’t be good at this sort of thing. You also need a degree of patience. The work can be a bit repetitive at times, sort of like an assembly line, but it pays well.

Have fun!

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