Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2011 20:19:35 +0100
From: Alex Carbine <alex.carbine@sky.com>
Subject: Chapter Twelve. Massage Me.

Massage Me

by Alex Carbine

Back to the Plot ...

	A Note From Alex:- Just recently I seem to have 'cum off the rails'
as it were, but from this Chapter I will concentrate on the subject
'Massages'.  I apologise.


	I have been 'chatting' by e-mail with a friend, Dan, who lives in
another Continent on our planet, and he was telling me how he had just had
a massage where the masseur let him massage him for the last 15 minutes.
And this reminds me of a massage I once had in Manchester, England.


	After my Dinner, I had been leafing through the Local Newspaper,
sitting in the Lounge of the Hotel I was staying in, and happened across an
advert for '1 to 1 Male Massages'. Ringing the number given, on my mobile,
I was soon in a taxi on my way to the address.

	The exterior had a neon sign for 'Gym and Spa' and was in an area
which appeared prosperous, near the City centre, and on entering I was
mildly surprised as to how clean and plush it appeared, but was seemingly
empty. I made comment to the guy at the Reception desk, and he informed me
that they had numerous business gents in the day, but were understandably
quieter in the evening. He confirmed my booking for a massage and gave me
two towels and instructions as to where the changing rooms were, charging
my fee to my debit card.

	I was able to strip down and shower, leaving my clothes and
valuables in a large locker, the key of which I wore on a thick rubber band
round my wrist. Wrapping a towel round my middle I went into the Coffee
Room to await my Masseur. There were four guys in there who nodded as I
entered, two returning to their chat, one to the internet connection he had
and I sat opposite the fourth. He was a tanned, muscular, 30s something,
also wearing a towel, and, through the glass top of the table, I could see
his balls and the limp helmet of his cock poking out from under the edge of
the towel fabric as he sat sipping his coffee.

	"Hallo," he said in a mellow voiced friendly way, "I haven't seen
you here before." "No," I said, "I am visiting Manchester on business and
just here tonight for a Massage." A voice from behind the counter called
out, "It's your half-past client Stan," and the man in front of me extended
his hand to shake. "Hallo, I'm Stanley, and you must be Alex, I presume."

	I followed Stanley up the stairs, his towel obviously his own and
not from the Establishment, as it did not cover as much. I thought he was
not wasting much time as he climbed the stairs two at a time, until I
realised that it could have been to un-mistakenly display to me, as I
followed him, his shaven bum hole and generous pair of swinging balls. By
the time we reached his Massage Room my cock had already begun to stir.

	The room was a nice temperature, and his eyes travelled the length
of my body when I removed my towel, revealing my shaven haven, my 21 cm
cock (limp, but thickening), and my cock ring. "Do you want me to take this
off?" I asked holding the ring and shaking it slightly so my semi-erect
cock waved from side to side. "Your preference," he said, and indicated for
me to lie on my front.

	After the usual 'health' questions regarding heart attacks etc., he
asked if I wanted a relaxing or deep muscle massage. I turned my head to
look at him and said, "I like a 'deep' massage and it all depends on how
big your 'muscle' is," and laughed.  "Let me know if I hurt you," he
replied, non-committally, and turned the lights low. I had noticed that the
walls and ceiling were mirrored and looking at my reflection I could see my
body on the table was bathed in light from overhead spotlights, bright
enough to see by.

	He had been down by my feet at his work-station, and when he
returned to start his work on my lower legs, I could see he had lost his
towel, but was now wearing a white 'G' string with a simple triangle of
patterned fabric covering his front and thin waist and back strings. As he
worked my legs and knees I managed to move my feet further apart so they
rested on the corners of the table, giving Stan sight and access to my
crotch. My cock was almost hard and pointing back towards him as I lay.

	Standing to one side he took hold of my leg and bent it at the
knee, stretching my muscles as my heel was brought back to my bum cheek. He
had to lift my body as well and my stiff cock would have been clearly on
view. He moved to the other side and repeated the stretching. As he moved
round the bottom of the table he re-arranged his cock in the 'G' string so
that the now-obvious tube and helmet were pointing towards his right hip.

	Then he moved up to my lower back, leaving my buttocks alone. I
watched in the mirrors as he worked my lower back, the muscles in his arms
and chest moving under the skin. From my view-point, my own body obscured
my view below his abdomen. Then he walked round past my head and I was able
to see that the 'G' string was full of balls and a cock that was hard, the
helmet poking up over the waistband. He again massaged my lower waist from
this new side, but my shoulder obscured my view of him, so in the mirror I
watched his back muscles rippling as he worked my own back, his firm cheeks
tensing and relaxing. I knew that my hard cock would be leaking over the
paper sheet beneath me, as following his knees stretches, my cock was now
pointing to my chest, and I could feel it's hardness pulsing as I twitched
under Stan's hands,

	When he had finished he returned to his work-station at my feet for
more oil, before walking up to my shoulders, again my body obscuring my
view of him below the waist. Finally it was back to my feet for more oil,
before he came back into my clear view to stand by my turned head, whilst
he massaged my shoulders.

	The helmet of his cock was now clear of the waist band, atop a
thick, hard shaft, the shape of which disappeared into the 'G' string. I
could see a bead of pre-cum on the piss slit. As he worked it danced and
weaved just out of reach. I licked my lips and he stood closer to the table
so I was able to lick it and taste his nectar. I swung my hand behind him
and felt the cleft of his bum as I cupped his cheek.

	I thought I had maybe stepped over the line, as he stood back from
the table, but it was only so he could unclasp the waistband and let the
small piece of cloth drop to his feet. Now he was naked. I could see that
he had no pubic hair, and his balls hung loosely under his thick rigid
23cms of manhood. He moved to stand at my head, and removed a piece from
the table so that he could push his cock into my mouth easily.

	I took about half of it, feeling the veins on his shaft slide over
my lips, my tongue allowing the underneath of his helmet to slide across
it, before feeling his hands on my buttocks as he rubbed and pulled them
apart. Slowly he shafted in and out of my mouth, getting deeper and deeper,
the helmet eventually blocking my throat, but only momentarily so I could
breath easily, with me controlling my gag reflex as I have done many times
before. I love oral sex when it is done well.

	I felt Stan's lubricated fingers slide along my crack, over my butt
hole more than several times, and then one of those fingers pushed and
entered, as I relaxed my sphincter to receive it. Several stabs later and
another finger joined the first, this repeating itself until four fingers
were finally amusing and abusing my ring, as Stan gently, but insistently,
fucked my mouth as well. Then he withdrew his cock and walked round to my
hip. His hard cock lay on my upturned hand as he leaned over and his hands
parted my ass cheeks. I felt his breath on my hole before his tongue licked
across it. I took his cock in my hand and wanked it gently. His tongue
licked and probed my hole, his spittle feeling cooler on my flesh as it
dripped down over my balls.

	I felt his hand sliding under my hip and I lifted myself onto my
hands and knees. His hand took hold of my cock and milked it rather as one
would a cow teat. I felt the flat of his other hand on the base of my
spine, and then his thumb on my crinkled, puckered hole. He pushed and his
thumb slid past my sphincter and into my guts. He fucked my hole slowly,
working his thumb in and out of my muscle ring, all the while pulling on my
cock, up and down, his oiled hand slipping over my helmet ridge, my cock
dripping pre-cum onto the white paper surface beneath me. Then he said
quietly that I should lay on my back.

	The lights shone on my body but not in my eyes and I was able to
see the whole of my body in the ceiling mirror. My cock was pointing up to
it rigidly, the light glittering on the facets of my cock-ring. I watched
as 'my cock' swung from side to side as Stan worked his way up my body, the
pre-cum dripping onto my abdomen like a continuous strand of spider web. It
was only when he had completed up to my neck that he went to stand back at
my hip and took hold of my stiffy. I was able to take hold of his again, as
it stuck rigidly out from his body.

	We wanked each other, each enjoying the other's touch, as we
stroked up and over the helmet with our fingers and thumb, before sliding
to the shaved area of our pubic flesh. Stan was stood so I could see my
hand sliding back and forth along his penis, and I could also see that he
was pushing himself in and out of my curled hand. "Would you like to
massage me?" he asked in his quiet voice.

	When I climbed off the table we stood side by side and our cocks
mashed into each other as Stan and I kissed, his cock pushing up between my
legs under my balls and along my perineum. Then I took hold of him and
wanked him before he broke away and climbed up onto the table in my
place. He lay on his back and his right hand held his cock bolt upright so
I could see how big it really was. I bent at the waist and sunk my mouth
down onto it, slipping his length almost fully in, taking him right into
the back of my throat, knowing that my muscles as I swallowed was giving
the most amazing sensations to his helmet, whilst my hand fondled his balls
in their sack, feeling them lump over my fingers as they moved.

	He did not stop me when I climbed up onto the table to kneel either
side of his hips. I was able to kiss him again and this time there was
seemingly more energy between us. I reached behind and held his cock,
before lowering myself onto it, feeling the flared helmet momentarily push
against my sphincter, before squishing by my opened ring and entering my
love-glove tube. As I leaned back I felt the familiar feeling of fullness
as his meat slid into me. He took hold of my cock and began to wank it as I
started to bounce up and down on his cock, giving him the most personal
massage that one man can give another. This really was a '1 on 1 Male
Massage'. I tightened my ring to clasp his slippery invader. I felt him
give a muscular twitch and pulse inside me in return.

	For many minutes we pleasured each other, he wanking my cock with
his hands, me wanking his cock with my sucking ass. I was able to see my
reflection and watch myself in action, seeing his hard cock from the side
as it plunged into my bum as I leaned back onto it, feeling the sensations
from inside me as his hardness moved to and fro, whilst my hard cock jutted
out rigidly from my body as his hand travelled its' length giving me almost
an overdose of sensations, all driving me towards my orgasm.

	Then I gave him fair warning, and started spurting my cum all over
his chest, my ring muscle clenching hard down on his cock as I came,
pumping the spunk out of my hard hose that he held in his hand, in arcs up
towards his face, to splatter on his pecks and abs. He rubbed a hand over
his front, spreading it, then taking his fingers to his mouth to taste
me. Then, in reaction to my squeezing his shaft and my tasty sperm, I felt
him jerk under me, into me, painting his own sperm inside me as he moved,
pushing his body up from the table to meet and kiss mine, pumping me with
more and more of his ejaculate, the white sticky goo feeling red hot in my
entrails, filling my pipework until it overflowed backwards along the
outside of his cock, leaking past my sphincter to streak over and drip off
his balls.

	I sat still on his cock, enjoying everything, whilst we both
reclaimed our senses and mastered our breathing. Then I felt him flop out
of my hole as his erection subsided, his emissions following a close
second, flooding out to glob onto the table's papered covering. We climbed
off the table and I wiped myself with my towel, he with the paper from the
table. We did not kiss, but I shook his hand and thanked him, before he
opened the door for me to exit to the showers.


As usual I ask you, dear reader, that if you have enjoyed the story, to let
me know. Make suggestions, whatever.

You can contact me at alex.carbine@sky.com All e-mails answered.

Thank You Dennis.