Date: Mon, 24 Oct 2011 21:07:51 +0100
From: Alex Carbine <alex.carbine@sky.com>
Subject: Chapter Thirteen. Massage Me.

'Massage Me'

by Alex Carbine

Chapter Thirteen.

'A Singapore Sling'


	I suppose I have been fortunate in my travels, and I have travelled
to many places in the world. The best bit is that most of the time my
accommodation or Hotel is paid for by someone else, not that I overspend my
time or allowances. I have found that Hotels are a world in themselves, and
having stayed in so many, I am aware of how they work, generally.

	There is always someone whom I can talk to about 'local knowledge',
be it the Desk Manager, a table steward or a bell-boy. I am not shy of
striking up a conversation, and it is amazing the information that one can
glean. I was in a Hotel in Singapore, and the liveried bell-boy operating
the lift, who by the way was Malay not a Singaporean, became an absolute
fount of local knowledge for me, telling me about the changes that have
come about in the City, and where to go, what to sight-see.

	After a couple of days, I had an idea on the spur of the moment and
asked him if he would be willing to show me some of these sights, when he
had spare time. "But certainly, Mr. Alex," he said, his whole 16 year old
face a big toothy grin, "I can show you everything!" and his arms flung
wide to illustrate his claim. That very afternoon we set out in a Taxi for
the Chinese Sector, Simon dressed in a blindingly white 't' shirt,
navy-blue shorts, and ridiculously thick soled sneakers, and I in a light
blue 't' shirt and matching shorts and pumps.

	He had told me his name, but I was unable to pronounce it properly,
so we agreed on 'Simon' which was a close, but anglicised,
approximation. With Simon's guidance I became aware of a large shop known
as 'Geek Central', with about five floors, crammed full of small shops,
each selling the same electrical goods, the individual traders trying to
entice me into 'their shop' to buy their goods, with promises of massive
discounts or mint tea. His laughing comments in a local dialect made them
laugh back but they stopped cajoling me. I asked him what he was saying,
and he said, "I tell them that I am taking you to my Father to buy
goods. They understand that and that shuts them up." "Is that what you are
doing?" I asked him. "It is impossible," he replied with his everlasting
grin on his face. "My parents died ten years ago!" I did not pursue the
matter any further.

	We had visited several of these multi-storey 'Bazaars' when we
passed one of the many Temples that are found in the City. This was an
enormous red Pagoda and inside was a giant golden smiling Buddha. We
removed our shoes and they were looked after by an old lady at the
entrance, having given her the required coinage, which was worth just a few
cents. As we walked round, Simon gave me an informed running historical
commentary about Buddha, which I include below for interest.


Religious leader, founder of Buddhism, born at Lumbini in Nepal, and raised
in his father's palace at Kapilavastu. At the age of 29 he left his wife
and son and a life of luxury, to resolve the problems of existence. After
six years of austerity he realized that asceticism, like overindulgence,
was futile, and chose the Middle Way of meditation. He became enlightened
under a bo, or bodhi, tree near Bodhgaya in Bihar, India. He began teaching
at Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, and founded the Sangha, or order of monks. He
spent the rest of his life travelling around northern India, and died at
Kusinagara. He is not a God.


	After we had toured the Temple, which was packed with ancient and
valuable artefacts, we went up to the garden on the roof, which was
incredibly tranquil, without the hustle and roar of the City that it was
surrounded by on all sides. As we sat and looked at the flowers I made the
remark that my back ached and Simon told me that he knew just the place to
have it fixed.

	He took me into the 'Little India' area and just near the Mustafa
Centre in Syed Alwi Road, he took me into what looked like a hairdressing
salon. He spoke with one of the men cutting hair, and he motioned for us to
go through the door at the back of the shop. I followed Simon and we
mounted the stairs that we found.

	Before I had left the Hotel, I had told Simon that I would pay for
everything, and that he would not be 'out of pocket' afterwards. Climbing
the stairs Simon told me that he had been to this place several times and
that there was an entrance fee. I told him that this would cause no
bother. We were greeted by an Indian at the top of the stairs and taken
into a sitting room, where there were others seated at tables, reading
newspapers, smoking hookahs or playing a game like dominoes.

	We sat at a table and a Steward came to us with a tray of freshly
brewed tea and cups. The tea is very strong and there is no milk
offered. It tasted slightly scented and was delightful. Simon asked me what
type of treatment I required for my back. I asked him what this place
offered. "Everything!" he answered. "From a head massage, neck massage,
half body massage, full body massage, everything." Looking around the salon
I could not imagine I was in a Massage Parlour.

	"Mr. Alex," continued Simon, "It is no matter to me but you can be
massaged by a lady or a man." I looked at him and smiled. He continued,
"When I come here it is to be massaged by a man, as, like you, I am more
attracted to a man." I had to laugh at this bald statement of fact from a
16 year old Malay boy, with no Dad. "Is this not true?" he asked seriously,
"have I made mistake?" He looked worried. "The others at the Hotel tell me
you are homo-sexual, as am I," he said, "I mean no offence if I am wrong."

	"Don't worry Simon," I said, "I take no offence, and yes they are
right. I am Gay. And yes I would love a man to massage me." He looked
relieved. "That is good," he said, "for that is what I told the Owner,
downstairs." I had to laugh again and shake my head in amazement, and then
a Steward came over to our table and asked, "Excuse me Sir, how long do you
want a Massage for?" "Until I am finished," I answered. "Maybe more than
one hour?" "And will you be alone, or will your boy accompany you?" he
asked. I was surprised but tried not to show it. I looked at Simon and he
was nodding to me imperceptibly. "I think would prefer 'my boy' to
accompany me," I said magnanimously, and together we left the table and
followed the Steward, me now holding Simon's soft hand.

	The next room was smaller than the previous, but only just. The
floor was lined with benches above which were metal lock-up cabinets for
our clothes and valuables. I watched as Simon stripped down, just as Simon
kept an eye on me. I took all my clothes off and placed them on hangers as
I stood naked, and locked them away. I was aware that Simon was taking note
of my body, my reasonable muscular trim for my age, my light tan, my shaved
pubic area, my circumcised helmet and my glittering pewter cock ring round
the base of my cock and balls. In my turn I observed Simon's natural light
brown skin, the inoculation scar on his right arm, the perfectly formed and
dimpled globes of his arse, his foreskin, his balls close to his body, and
that he was getting a hard-on as he stood there looking at me, and as
always he was smiling. "Why do you wear that?" he asked pointing to my
cock-ring. "Because Simon," I answered with a smile back at him, "Because I
can, I like the feeling, and I want to." He came over to me and held my
hand again, and led me through the next door.

	I was not at all sure what we would find, but it was all very clean
and organised. We were shown into a reasonably sized room, which had two
massage couches in it, about eight feet apart. There were two Masseurs and
I was asked if I wanted to be able to see each other, or would I want a
curtain drawn across the middle of the room. I said I wanted to watch. The
Masseurs were each dressed in an Indian longhi, rather like a long skirt,
made of a tube of material, hitched at the waist so it did not fall off the
hip. I watched as Simon climbed onto his table, seeing his darker brown
hole in the cleft of his bum and the back of his almost black balls as he
lifted a leg up first. He surprised me though, as he stopped with one leg
up on the table and looked back at me, confirming to himself that I had
seen what he had wanted to show. I grinned at him, gave my hardening cock a
wank and climbed onto my own table. We each lay on our fronts, our heads
turned so we could see the other.

	The Masseurs started at our necks and worked their way down to our
buttocks, working methodically, professionally, and silently. I watched as
Simon's legs were given treatment as were mine in a similar way. Then
Simon's Masseur came back to the middle of his table and I watched as he
swivelled Simon's body so that his short legs hung over the side of the
table, his bum facing me. I felt my Masseur's hands hinting that he also
wished me to swing my legs over to touch the floor, my chest laying across
the table, my head facing so I could still watch what was happening to
Simon.

	So I lay facing Simon, my feet on the floor, and I watched as
Simon's Masseur used his thumbs to hold Simon's buttock apart, revealing to
me his sweet anus. I felt mine being held apart as well. Then Simon's
Masseur bent and gave the boy's hole a lick, in a way that I could see what
he was doing. My own hole was being licked as well. I moved my legs apart
so that the man behind me had good, easy access. I watched fascinated as
Simon's man's tongue darted and licked, in, around and over the crinkly
patch of skin, whilst I was aware of my bum being lathered in a similar
fashion. Simon made some comment I did not catch, and his Masseur stopped
and walked away, to return with a large pink cock-shaped dildo. He showed
it to Simon first, oiled its' length and then he offered the large plastic
glans head up to Simon's entrance. As my Masseur's wet tongue entered my
bum and licked deep inside me, I watched as Simon's Masseur twisted and
pushed the dildo into Simon's hole, stretching it, I would have thought,
beyond it's limit. The Masseur had also turned on the vibrator, and as it
slid in and out of the boy, so the tone of the vibrator's engine changed
becoming louder and quieter, higher pitched and lower as it moved in and
out of the boy's orifice. My man was now wanking my iron hard cock as he
licked my hole and behind my balls.

	Simon's man had pushed the dildo deep into Simon, so that a stub of
a couple of inches jutted out of his bum obscenely. Simon felt round behind
himself with one hand and took hold of this stub and began to use the dildo
to fuck his own ass. I felt the man behind me enter my bum with his finger,
seeking my prostate gland. I was laying on my chest, holding with both
hands onto the side of the table. Simon stood up, holding the dildo right
up in his bum, and he turned round. He was now facing me, his stiff cock
jutting out from his body about six inches (15 cms), his foreskin half
pulled back over his helmet, the brown skin of the foreskin contrasting
with the red/purple of the wet glans revealed. I could smell his slightly
perfumed oily body and he came forward and offered me his cock to suck. I
let him slip it between my lips and I used them to skin back Simon's
foreskin to reveal to my tongue the slippery head and the oozing fluids I
was now tasting.

	With Simon's man holding the dildo steady, Simon was able to move
himself back and forward, fucking my mouth with his cock, and at the same
time causing the dildo to slide in and out of his bum. I felt my anus being
stretched and realised that my arse was also being assailed by a dildo,
until I felt my Masseur's hands holding my hips and I realised that he was
actually fucking me with his cock. I let the two of them use me as a
'sandwich', fucking me at both ends. Simon's masseur had now lost his
longhi and was standing naked, wanking his massive 10 inch (25 cms)
cock. Simon gave a grunt as the dildo was removed, and a bigger grunt as
the Masseur's cock took its' place, pushing Simon's cock deep into my mouth
each time the man pushed his monster home to the hilt, as he slowly fucked
the boy in his hands, a dreamy look on his face, his eyes closed.

	Then the man pulled Simon away from me and turned him sideways, so
I could see his enormous cock sliding in and out of Simon's sixteen years
of body. Simon had his hands on his knees, his ass bent to take the man's
offering, his head turned to me, his white teeth gleaming as he flashed me
his smile. "This is the reason I return here. He is the only one who fucks
me fully to our mutual satisfaction," he said haltingly between the slow,
deep thrusts. I was able to watch the Masseur pulling the boy onto his
enlarged fuck-machine, skewering him with it, deliberately, calculatingly,
time and again. And Simon was obviously loving it, a willing recipient.

	My Masseur withdrew his cock from me and helped me back onto the
table, for me to lie on my back. My cock was rock hard in my cock ring and
Simon came closer, held onto my table side and took me into his mouth,
still be fucked slowly and deeply. His head bobbed up and down on my stalk
whilst my Masseur held and wanked the base of my cock for him, whilst I lay
back and looked at the rotating fan on the ceiling before closing my
eyes. I felt something sliding along the table, between my arse cheeks and
pressing again at my hole. I bent my knees a bit, my legs laying on the
table like a frog, letting the dildo slide into me and back out,
rhythmically. My cock head was being sucked and licked by a boy who was
being fucked himself, my shaft was being wanked, my hole was being fucked
by a dildo. I lay there and enjoyed the moments.

	Sadly all good things come to an end. I felt Simon's mouth leave my
cock, and I turned my head to see the Masseur extract his shiny weapon. The
dildo went from my ass and I straightened my legs along the table. Then, to
my surprise, The Masseur lifted Simon bodily and he straddled my prone
body, sitting on my abdomen, his knees either side of me. He gently humped
my stomach, his stiff cock and balls sliding in the oils on my skin, as the
end of the table was lifted like a hospital bed and gave my shoulders
support. I was able to half sit up comfortably and see as Simon, stood and
faced towards my feet, his feet either side of my hips, bend and hold his
bum open with both hands to show me his open, freshly fucked angry red
hole, and then turn to face me and squat down, sliding his stretched puffy
hole over my wanting, waiting cock, only stopping when there was no more of
my cock to take inside of him. He sat there grinning at me happily, moving
his bottom slightly in a circular motion just to make sure there was
definitely no more of me to get in. Then he started to work himself up and
down my slippery, hard, thick pole, wanking his own cock furiously, his
face a study of concentration. Looking down my body I could see my cock
lengthening and shortening as his bum rose and fell on it. On either side
of me the Masseurs were also wanking themselves, their cocks mesmerising
me, their balls shaking in their sacks as their fists slid back and forth
along their shafts, their foreskins making their helmets play hide-and-seek
as they pulled the flesh on their hard tubes forward and back, their piss
slits wet with clear fluid.

	I reached out and curled my hand round the girth of the black
horse-cock that had recently been up in Simon's anal canal and wondered at
the fact that he had been able to accommodate it. But as I handled it's
stiffness and size I knew that a cock like the one I was now wanking would
definitely satisfy his young lust, or anyone's.

	"Mr. Alex, Sir! I am cumming!" called Simon, his cock spitting
ropes of juvenile cum over my chest and one even fell on my face. I was
able to lick it into my mouth before more cum landed on my face from the
two Masseurs. The one that had been fucking me spouted first, then the
horse-cock jerked in my hand, their ejaculate criss-crossing my face as
they spent themselves, emptying their balls over me for my pleasure. I took
'horse-cock' in my mouth and licked the remaining white lumps off his
massive split helmet, letting the rim of his glans completely pass my
teeth, the head almost filling the cavity of my mouth, my lips sealing
round his shaft behind. He gave one last spasm and oozed his final shot
down my throat.

	Simon was still bouncing up and down on my cock, and with an, "I'm
cumming too," I delighted him in injecting my spunk up into him, my bum
lifting up off the table with the effort to get my cock as deep into his
bowel as I could, spraying the inside walls of his welcoming hot tube with
my seed. Time and again my hole clenched as I spasmed into him, wanting my
balls to empty their contents, the flared rim of my glans scraping the
surface of his love-sleeve, my piss-slit opening and closing with the
passage of my spurted white gifts, while Simon expertly milked my cock with
his muscular ring and velvet-like flesh.

	I had to use my hands to wipe my eyes clear of the Masseurs' sticky
deposits before I could see clearly. Simon was sitting in front of me, my
cock hard up to its' hilt into his bum, his legs straight and tucked into
my armpits, the tip of his dark erect cock shining whitely with his spunk
and poking up out of his lap, grinning inanely as he panted after such
exertion. "Now does your back ache?" he asked impishly.



If you have liked this tale please take the time to let me know at

		 alex.carbine@sky.com

All mail is answered.