Date: Tue, 27 Sep 2011 22:05:08 +0100
From: Alex Carbine <alex.carbine@sky.com>
Subject: Massage Me. Chapter Two.

Massage Me

by Alex Carbine

Chapter Two.

The Three Toners


	As a Commercial Traveller I do, as the description suggests,
travel. Staying in a Hotel in Manchester, England, which had been chosen by
my Company, I was settling into my room when the Porter, who had delivered
my bags from the taxi into the room, asked the usual question, normally
with a hand out for a tip, "Will there be anything else?"

	I had had a tiring flight from New York, I ached and my internal
clock had not adjusted to the English night-time yet. "Yes," I answered on
a whim, "can you advise where I can go for a massage. And before you
answer, I want a massage, not a masseuse or an 'extra pillow' or whatever
the euphemism is in Manchester. I want a male massage and possibly a Sauna
or steam or something." (This, with hindsight, was my first mistake) The
Porter gave me a suppressed smile. "Understood Sir. And when would be
convenient, Sir?" he asked amiably. "Now. Soon. This evening. Whatever. I
feel like I have been in a ringer, and I am wide awake. I leave it to
you. Bell us back when it's fixed," and I gave him a Five Pounds note as he
went. The phone beside my bed rang ten minutes later.

	"It's Derek the Porter, Sir. If you will allow the liberty, I have
made these arrangements on your behalf. Firstly the Hot Room, Sauna and
Jacuzzi are available all night in our Pool Room. You can easily reach them
if you use the Lift by turning left out of your room. It is four doors
away. You may wear the Hotel towelling gown for your transfer.  Go to the
bottom floor, Sir, the lift button is labelled 'Pool Room' and the duty
all-night Attendant has been alerted, will supply towels and will look
after you. Please do not forget your door-card key, for your return. There
is no charge for this service. Secondly, your massage. I have secured the
services of a visiting massage, who can see to your needs in your room. It
is a firm I have used with other Guests, called The Three Toners. A
dreadful pun, Sir, but the service is reportedly faultless. An Operative
will be with you in 15 minutes, and he will have all the paraphernalia he
needs with him, Sir. Is this to your wishes, Sir?"

	I sat on the bed and laughed quietly down the phone in
amazement. "Thank you Derek, I cannot think of anything you have left
out. I may want something to eat in the small hours of your night, and I
will phone down then. In the meantime, put a large glass of your favourite
drink on my bill as a thanks and have it when you will. And thanks for all
your trouble. I will await your 'Toner'."  I had a shower in the bathroom
suite and then lay on the bed wearing my towel.

	Almost exactly 15 minutes had passed when there was a firm knock at
the door. Calling for the person to "Come in," I sat up. "Three Toners,
Sir" came a voice as a folded portable table entered, followed by a man of
about late twenties carrying a big blue chill box with a white lid.
"Visiting massage," he said having closed the door behind him, just to
confirm he was in the right room. He was wearing athletic sweat pants with
a matching top, and trainers. From my bed I gave him a "Hallo" and a smile
and watched silently as he set his table and bottles up. "How much?" I
said, braking the silence when he looked as though he was finished. "Oh,
sorry," he said and came over and handed me a printed list of Services and
Charges. "Visiting Massage is almost at the bottom, Sir." He had a soft
voice and he moved easily, as if he was sure of himself and surroundings.

	"Do much of this?" I asked as I surveyed the List. "All the time
Sir." he replied. "Do you have any Medical conditions I should be aware of?
Heart, limb, whatever?" he asked and I realised he was surveying me as I
lay on the bed. "No, nothing I can think of, unless you can say that
air-plane cramp is a medical condition?" We both smiled, and our gazes met
and locked. "Anything in particular you want me to do?" he asked. "My body
feels like death warmed up. What I really need is a deep massage," I
said. "A 'deep' massage, Sir." he repeated, "you want a 'deep' massage?"

	"Can you do that?" I asked, as I quite often had a sport massage
that really got into my muscles and made me feel totally refreshed after
it. (And with hindsight, this was my second mistake.)  "Of course
Sir. Whatever you want, and I think," and here he looked me in the eye with
a smile, "I think I am really going to enjoy it, Sir. By the way, my name
is Adam, Sir." "And my name is Alex," I replied, getting off the bed to
walk to him naked.

	He had me lay on my front. There was a disposable paper sheet on
the soft white leatherette of his table, and I lay with my head in the
padded hole at the end, I could only see his feet as he walked around
me. "Would you mind if I stripped my top off, before we start, Alex?" he
said. "Whatever is comfortable for you," I said. When he returned his feet
were bare. I could still see the bottom of his sweat pants. He poured
warmed oil on my back and started his massage.

	As he worked his nimble hands massaged the tiredness out of my
muscles, leaving behind a feeling of slight euphoria. When I turned over as
he asked, I could see that there was a thin sheen of perspiration on his
bare, hairless upper torso. I watched his arm and chest muscles ripple as
he worked me. At one point he stood at my head and was working my lower
ribs, and beads of his sweat dripped off his nipples and I was able to
taste his saltiness. Then he was down at my feet working my ankles and
legs. Then he was at my hips working my upper thighs. He took my leg and
under his guidance I bent at the knee as he lifted and stretched it. Then
he went to the other side of me and repeated the manoeuvre with my other
leg. Then he massaged oil into my inside thighs. It felt almost erotic. His
fingers travelled all the way up my legs, brushing my balls sack and up
over onto my abdomen. I realised that I was getting a hard-on.

	Then he asked me to turn back again onto my front. As I nestled
back into the padded face hole, he was at his box fetching more warmed
oil. (This assumption was my third mistake, but they were not mistakes as
such, it was that I had been mistaken, I had been miss-understood.) I felt
the warmed oils being applied to my spine and then felt the warmth as it
trickled down the crack of my ass-cheeks onto my balls. Lying as I was I
could feel my cock as it stiffen more. Then he was massaging my ass cheeks,
one to each hand, squeezing and rubbing them, so that they were pushed up
and down then sideways, open and closed. He was standing at my feet and he
parted my ankles, one to each corner of the table, so that my legs were
well apart. Then his hands were on my legs above my knees, rubbing the skin
from knee to buttock. I realised he could see my swollen cock, my balls and
my ass hole, but I said nothing. I have had gay massages before, and I
enjoyed them, but this was unexpected. My mind played back what I had said
earlier. "I want a man to massage me." "I want a 'deep' massage." I
realised how the aim of the massage had changed in the last few minutes.

	He was now standing at my head, massaging my lower spine. I opened
my eyes and looked at his feet. They were still bare, but I could not see
the bottom of his sweat pants. He was not wearing them. I lifted my head
out of the hole in the table and stared at his waist as he massaged my
spine. He was totally naked. He was also totally hairless. He had an
erection. He was circumcised. His cock was about 8 inches long. I realised
he had removed his pants when he had asked me to turn back over. He moved
closer to me so his cock was virtually sticking up my nose. I did the only
thing I could in this situation.

	His cock had the taste of almonds from the oils he was using. I
moved a little forwards on the table so the he could stick himself properly
into my mouth. I was now able to take him without a strain to my neck. He
was able to face-fuck me easily with a simple movement of his hips, as he
ran his oiled fingers down my ass-crack, and stroked across my pulsating
ring. I swung my arms round and took hold of his hard stalk, cupping his
heavy, swinging balls. He stopped humping my mouth and let my lips slide up
and down his shaft. I had had experience at 'deep throating' a companion
and I was able to control my 'gag' reflex. I took him deep into my throat,
suppressing a giggle when I thought of me innocently asking for a 'deep'
massage. English as she is spoken!

	He pulled out of me with a "Relax, I'm coming back." I watched him
return into view with a glass dildo shaped like a child's round sword, a
shaft with a guard and a handle. It must have been 10 inches long from
bulbous tip to the guard. I took hold of his cock again, and opened myself
up as he slipped his length into my throat. He leaned forwards, his abdomen
pushing my nose to one side, as he stretched along me until I felt the bulb
end of the dildo at my back-passage door. His fingering must have opened my
ring muscle or he had applied something to me, as the glass invader popped
through without pain, sliding in with that delicious feeling of being
filled. I realised that his electric chill box was actually a warming
container, as the glass was actually warm to my touch, whilst it slid
further and further into my bowels. He pulled his cock almost out of my
mouth, to let me breathe, then leaned himself into me again, loving the way
my swallowing muscle action milked over his helmet.

	I was able to feel the guard of the dildo as it pushed right up
against the crinkly exterior of my hole. Holding it in up to the hilt, he
again pulled his cock almost out of my mouth to give me air. He knew what
he was doing, and I knew what I was capable of. We were evenly balanced. As
he fucked my ass with his toy, I let him fuck my mouth and throat with his
cock. For several minutes we enjoyed the mutual sensations. Then, as he
continued, he asked if I wanted him to bum me for real.

	It was one of those questions that I could only yell "Yes!"
to. However I simply nodded my assent and he withdrew his stiff cock from
me. I felt him mount the table and then his knees either side of my hips. I
raised myself up off the table, my ass and hole ready to be entered. He
gently slipped the glass dildo out of me, and replaced it with himself so
deftly that I almost thought that he had pushed the dildo back in. But then
I felt under myself and was gratified by the feeling of two pairs of balls
hanging there. My 'V' shaped fingers felt either side of his hard invader
as it slid in and out of me. I always dribble when sexually excited, but I
was veritable gushing as his the flared helmet of his cock rode the track
up and down my tight tube. He put his hand round my hip and began wanking
me to my climax, but I was wise to his wiles. The sooner I came, the sooner
he could go. With a totally selfish thought, I concentrated on his cock
reaming me, rather than his hand milking me. I contracted my sphincter
muscle and he grunted. I managed to contract the muscles in my lower bowel
and he grunted. In return his hand worked overtime to make me cum. Then he
gave up, and both his hands were on my buttocks as he shafted me, his hard
cock reeking havoc as it pumped and pulled.

	Eventually it was him who came first. I felt his cock convulse
inside me, witnessed the sudden warmth of his ejaculation deep in my gut,
and the ease with which he could slide in and out due to him slipping in
his own sticky juices. This in turn set me off, and with him still inside
me, I stood up on my knees and let my incredibly stiff cock send rope after
rope of my sperm onto the bed and hole in front of me. Holding tightly onto
my shoulders, he continued to hump me until I was totally spent and
finished, and this without my touching my cock as I came, which for me was
most unusual. Suddenly I felt utterly washed out.

	He let go my shoulders, withdrew his wondrous cock, and climbed off
the table. I collapsed in a heap and lay on my back, my hair becoming
sticky with my cum. He returned to me and helped me bend my legs, my feet
up to my cheeks. Reaching in between, his oiled fingers massaged my open,
leaking hole with a soothing salve, until it closed, his ministrations a
welcome coolness to my hot battered bum. He left me for a few minutes
whilst he showered quickly in my bathroom then returned and helped me to
sit up. I moved to the bed and tenderly sat on a towel. He did what was
necessary and folded his table away. I asked about his payment, and he said
that I would be billed for a meal for four, which I could probably claim
back on expenses.

	Before he left he gave me a kiss, and told me that he would 'do
that again any day' which he probably meant. Then he and his kit were
gone. I phoned down for a coffee, which Derek the Porter brought to me
personally. "Enjoyed your massage, Sir?" he asked, his expression
middle-of-the-road, eyeing me lounging in a Hotel towel that had fallen
open. "Thank You Derek. It was exactly what I wanted, now I come to think
of it. Well done!" I answered with a smile coming easily to my face. "Worth
another drink Sir, before you go below to your Sauna? I will alert Alfred
the Attendant to look after your every need, that is if Sir has any needs
left?" He looked pointedly at my still half-erect cock and continued, "He
is a very 'big' lad I am told, like yourself, and his talents are really
very ... inventive, Sir" "Yes Derek, you've earned another drink, and if he
is as interesting as you say, you may note that Alfred may be 'otherwise
engaged' tonight. See you sometime tomorrow, Derek. And Thank You."

	If you have enjoyed this story as much as I did at the time, please
let me know at alex.carbine@sky.com All mail will be replied.