Date: Thu, 26 Dec 2013 20:25:09 -0500
From: Mads van Duessen <madsvand@gmail.com>
Subject: The Client

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The Client
by Mads van Duessen

The lobby phone callerID showed on my phone right on time – my 2pm
appointment.  I answered and told my customer my unit number and punched
the electronic code to answer the door.  A minute later he was getting off
the elevator, and I had the door ajar and waiting for him.

Visitors are always a surprise, even if they've given you their stats or
even a photo.  Seeing how a man walks, seeing the whole of him in
real-time, is completely different than his age, stats and/or a photo
description.  This one was a pleasant surprise.

"Hi.  Bob?" I said as he approached the door.  He looked me up and down
furtively, as if he thought he might do so without me seeing him appraise
me.  I knew he liked what he saw.

"Yeah, I'm Bob," he said, as I stood aside with the door open wide and he
passed and entered.  He abruptly stopped not far inside the door, in fact
not far enough for me to easily shut the door without almost brushing into
him.  The entryway to my unit isn't large, but he clearly wasn't as
comfortable once he was inside as his stride had suggested.

Bob was almost my height – five-ten or five-eleven maybe.  He had on a
pullover, jeans and sneakers, and I couldn't tell how fit he was, just that
he was a husky build – nice, that!  And his full head of wavy very dark
hair with a dusting of gray on the sides framed his very handsome,
clean-shaven face nicely.  I was close enough to get a good whiff of him,
too – masculine, not artificially scented other than the barest hint of
soap and shampoo.  Again, NICE!

"Why don't we go into my studio, Bob?" I said, walking around him and
showing him to the room just off the entry where I have my massage studio.

Bob followed me, and he looked around the place with obvious appreciation.
My studio is well-appointed, professional and comfortable.  The center of
the room is dominated by an over-sized massage table, which was already
covered with a fine cotton twin fitted sheet, which works well and launders
easily.  Otherwise, there's a couple of chairs in one corner with a table
between them; there's a work counter to one side with a sink and my various
oils and lotions, a folded sheet and a few towels ready for later use, a
couple of heating ovens for the towels and rocks; there was an armoire in
which I kept my linens; there's a connecting bathroom with a large shower;
there's a small closet, which I have open for my customers to hang their
clothes when they arrive and get ready; and there's a full wall of windows
with draperies I can control remotely.  The room was bright with the midday
sun – being that it was a very sunny day, despite the cool temperature
outside.

"So make yourself comfortable, Bob.  If you'd like a shower before your
massage, it's right there.  And for the massage, if you prefer to be
draped, that sheet there on the counter is what we'll use, and you can put
it over you or I will when I come back in when you're ready.  You can let
me know when you're ready for me."

"Um, I, uh," he stammered.

"Relax, Bob – you're here to relax, and you're in good hands, I assure
you."

He looked up from the floor, where his eyes had rested after looking
everywhere but at me.  "Um, thanks – I showered before I left my hotel
and walked over here," he said.  "I was going to take a cab, but when the
doorman at the hotel asked where I was going to tell the cab driver, he
told me it was only three blocks, and it would be faster to walk because of
all the one-way streets and construction."  He was babbling nervously, but
he held my gaze once he'd looked at me.

"Bob, why don't you relax and make yourself comfortable?" I asked.  "Would
you like some water before the massage?"

"Uh, no, I'm fine, thanks," he said.  "I should probably just get ready and
let you get on with it."  He was obviously uncomfortable.

I took a step toward him and put my hand on his shoulder.  "Bob, I may be
DOING the massage, but you're RECEIVING the massage, so it's both of us
getting on with it when you're ready.  If you need to relax a bit before we
start, that's fine."  Through his pullover I could tell he'd not kept up
his musculature from a prior more worked-out state, but he wasn't too soft,
still having wide, semi-hard shoulders.  I squeezed gently and massaged
with my fingers slightly, and he noticeably relaxed into my touch.  "See,
that's why you're here to relax."

"Yeah, I'm pretty wound-up," he said, not moving away from my touch on his
shoulder.  I took a step in front of him, put my hand on his other shoulder
and gave it the same light work.  He relaxed more, with an "Mmmmmmmmmm,"
and closed his eyes as I did it.

He didn't seem to want me to stop, and the close face-to-face position we
were in didn't seem to bother him.  I worked my hands up his shoulders to
the base of his neck and then worked the back of his neck as well as I
could with my fingers from that angle.  That got another, louder,
"MMmmmmmmmmm," and his head lolled back into my touch.

"I can see you will enjoy this, Bob," I said softly because we were only
inches apart.  "So why don't you get undressed and let me work on you with
better angles?"

He opened his eyes and I noticed they were light brown, flecked with gold,
not just brown.  "Yeah," he said, though his head was still canted back
slightly into my fingers on the back of his neck and the base of his scalp.

I eased my hands off him and stepped out, pulling the door behind me.
"Just let me know when you're ready."

It wasn't long and Bob called out, "Uh, Jerry, I'm ready now."

I went back in and shut the door behind me.  Bob was on the table face down
and naked, his head where it belonged in the padded face-ring.  He had
tanned legs from just above his knees and tanned arms from midway down his
upper arms.  Otherwise he was quite white.  And clearly big-boned – not
overweight but not worked-out recently either.  I could only see a single
tattoo, which made me smile inside – USMC – a fellow Corpsman.

I got to the counter and asked, "Would you like me to drape you?"

He lifted his head up and looked at me.  "I, uh, no, I'd prefer nude."

"It's all about your comfort, Bob," I said reassuringly.  "Would you prefer
that I massage you as I'm dressed now, or would you prefer I was unclothed
as well?"

"Um, well," he stammered, and I waited.  "I'd, uh, I'd prefer you nude,
too, if that's OK with you," he hurriedly added.

I was already pulling my t-shirt off as he added the last part, giving him
his answer.  And his eyes widened in appreciation when he saw my ripped
torso.  I folded my shirt and put it in the corner of the counter, and I
pulled my shorts off with my back to him and folded those and put them with
my shirt.  I couldn't see him looking, but I caught the sound of his
breath, obviously responding to my near-nakedness.  I turned to face him in
just my jock strap, and his appreciation was obvious.  "Some of my clients
enjoy me starting the massage in my jock," I said, and he gulped.  I was
enjoying this.  "It's up to you," I said, looping my thumbs through the
waistband and pulling it teasingly.  "On or off?"

"Oh, man," Bob said, staring.

I couldn't help laughing.  I've got a killer body – intentionally –
and I wear a jock VERY well.  "Tell you what," I offered.  "We'll start
this way," I said, walking over to him and positioning my pouch right by
his head, "And then if and when you're ready, you let me know it's time for
the strap to go, too," I said, gently moving his head away from my crotch
and back into the padded face-ring headrest.

I rubbed my hands gently from his head, after I'd repositioned it, down
over his neck and back in a broad sweep, letting my fingers wrap over his
sides and went to his waist.  His soft moan was long and sounded as his
body relaxed into the table under my touch.  I continued, moving down the
side of the table and bringing my hands together, one sweeping over his
butt, which got a new moan, and then together ran my hands down one leg to
his big foot, which I massaged dry gently.  More moans.  And then I took
his other foot and massaged it a little and then ran my hand up that leg
and back up his torso, moving myself along the other side of the table.  I
went back to his shoulders and neck and moved around his head, my pouch
just close enough to tossle his hair but not to touch his forehead, and
then I took one hand and got my lotion tube while still leaving one hand in
contact with him, and I really got to work.

I worked Bob over well, gauging pressure against his moans to get firm
enough yet not too firm.  I always enjoy a client who's verbal enough but
honestly verbal and not working too hard at it, like many do.  Bob was easy
to read.  As I went to work with the actual massage, I was silent other
than a few soft instructions to him about breathing, which he followed
well.

Like most men, he responded enthusiastically to a good massage of his
glutes and inner thighs, fingers straying to light brushes of his sac and
testicles equally welcomed.  And then his legs, which were, like his
shoulders, tense, and his feet, which were not by the time I gave them
their due.  I worked back up to his arms, and I took first one away from
his side and pulled it out at a 45 degree angle to his body with his hand
against my groin and really worked his arms.  Good musculature, just not
worked lately.  By the time I was working his second arm, he moved his hand
to brush his fingers against my groin above my jock waistband and then
timidly rubbed my pouch.  I made sure to give that arm an even better
workover than the other, and he took the opportunity to enjoy feeling me up
more and more boldly until I finally got to his hand and massaged it fully,
wrist, palm, fingers.

When I'd finished with his arms and hands I came to the head of the table
and went back to his neck, which he moaned into, like he had before.  His
neck was no longer tense and knotted like it had been, but it was a place
he especially enjoyed based on his responsiveness.  Bob was putty by then,
which made me feel good about my work.

"Before I have you turn over, would you prefer it to be darker so the light
from the windows isn't so bright?"

"I'd like it darker, but I'd rather see you, Jerry, than have it be so dark
I can't."

I chuckled.  "I have the lights recessed in the cornice on, so it won't be
dark, just dim," I said, already starting the electric drapes closing.  I
was still using one hand on Bob's neck as I worked the remote and then
returned that hand after the drapes started their automatic close.  His
increased moan reiterated his enjoyment of the neck work.

When the drapes were closed, it was quite dim in my studio, with just the
glow along the ceiling.  "OK, how about turning over?"

"I should warn you --" he said, as he slowly raised his head, but I knew
where he was going.

"It's perfectly natural, Bob.  Just stay relaxed; you're in a safe,
friendly environment here," I said.

Bob turned over and surprised me with a club of a cock which jutted out.
My first thought was "Damn, how did he lay on that without throwing out his
back?"  And then I thought, just plain "Wow!"

This time Bob saw me looking and he smirked, just looking at me, watching
me stare at his horsecock.  I finally composed myself after what seemed
like minutes but was really just a – very noticeable – few seconds
and put my hands on his chest and began working his pecs.  Big, a little
fleshier than they should have been, but obviously well-muscled underneath.
He surprised me by reaching over boldly and tugging at the waistband of my
jock strap.  "Now," was all he said.

I let one hand continue to massage his chest and used the other to pull
down the strap and chuck it to the side and went back to work.  Bob
immediately took my big low-hangers in his big hand and gently hefted them
and rolled them with his thumb against his palm and fingers.  His cock-pole
dripped some precum as he handled me I noticed.  "This is OK?" he asked,
looking up at me.

"If you mean the touching, absolutely.  If you mean the pressure, give me
whatever you want, brother – those are devildog nuts and they can take a
man's touch!"

This time he chuckled, increasing his grip strength on my nuts pleasantly.
"Yeah, caught the `SEMPER FI' there around your bicep, brother.  I did
four," he added.

"Twenty for me – been out a year," I said.

Bob was noticeably surprised, as his yank on my nuts attested.  "Twelve?
Man, you don't look any older than I do, brother!"

"Thirty-nine," I said, smiling and proud that, in fact, I know I can easily
pass for thirty.  "How old are you, Bob?" I asked, working his chest along
his ribs while he continued to work my nuts, more aggressively than before.

"Twenty-six.  Been out for almost four now.  You're seriously forty-nine?"

I laughed heartily.  "Now would be the time to actually ask `When's your
birthday?'" I said, and we both laughed at the long-time marine code for
I'm gay are you from one Corpsman to another.

My hands were to his groin, and he had his head back and eyes closed, his
hand now wrapped around my hardening cock, gently stroking me.  I worked
him good and didn't rush, despite the desire to wrap my hand around that
huge fucklog of his, particularly since his touch was particularly good on
mine!

I did what I usually do and bypassed his big, waving cock and worked down
over his hip and worked his thigh, brushing his bag, and working my way
down his leg.  He had big legs – again clearly muscled under some light
gone-to-fat layer – and he enjoyed the work I gave them.  I finally had
to move out of his reach, and my own boner was waving there, missing his
touch.

I gave his one foot another good working-over, and his moans spurred me to
go longer than usual.  Clearly Bob liked his feet rubbed, and like most men
probably rarely had someone do it.  His moans were so intense as I worked
his left foot that if I'd been working his cock I'd have expected him to be
cumming!

I finally gave his left foot a rest and went around the table and started
on his right hip and began working my way down.  Bob eagerly took my
semi-hard cock and had me at full attention soon after as I worked down
that leg.  His own cock drooled a big dollop of precum every time I brushed
his balls, and he'd dripped do much it was puddled in his pubes at the
base.  I enjoyed working that out of him!

When I'd finally finished his other foot and he'd moaned plaintively when I
released it after a good long and obviously enjoyable time, I moved around
to the head of the table.  I positioned myself so that I was behind the top
of Bob's head and I began to rub long strokes with both hands down his
torso and over his huge dripping cock, first one hand gripping it at the
base and stroking to and over his head and then next stroke the other one.
Bob had turned his head so he was licking up the side of my cock, his head
somewhat constrained by his position and by the head rest.  I finally put
one hand behind his neck and with the other released the head rest and
pulled it free and put it on the counter.  Then I told him to move down to
where he was comfortable, which happened to be just a little, so that his
head was hanging back over the end of the table where he opened his mouth,
ready for my cock.

"Hey, Bob," I started.

"Oh, sorry," he jumped in and started to scoot down farther on the table.
"I just thought –"

I put my hand on his chest.  "Bob, relax – you thought right, just not
what I was going to say.  I was going to say that since we're both
obviously turned on here, maybe we should enjoy each other a bit more
comfortably."

"Fuck YEAH," he said immediately, more forcefully than anything he'd said
since he got here.

I don't have anyone scheduled for a couple of hours.  And by the way I know
this sounds trite, but I'm saying this marine to marine: I DON'T usually do
this with clients!

Bob flipped onto his side then up on the table and looked me square in the
eye.  "You, Jerry, are fucking HOT, man.  I don't see what a hot stud like
you would see in an out-of-shape blob like me, I—"

I cut him off.  "That's enough, marine!" I said sharply, and he flinched.
I took his hand and put it on my hard cock.  "It's simple, Bob.  You have
me hot, and I, apparently, have you hot," I said, taking my hand and giving
his fucking HUGE – did I mention it's H U G E ??? – cock a swat.
"Now why don't we take a hot shower and then go have some fun in my big,
comfortable bed?"  For emphasis I took a step toward the studio shower and
grabbed his cock and pulled him.

We were in the shower under the hot water seconds later.  Bob quickly got
the message that I was going to wash him, and he should just enjoy it.  We
both did – I lathered all of him up and washed him with a soft cloth and
my hands under the hot water.  When I washed his butt and crack and took my
time working my soapy fingers around his hole, he braced his hands against
the wall and planted his feet wide and let me take my time.  When I reached
through and worked his hanging balls, his moan of pleasure was audible over
the loud shower spray, and it amplified when I worked his crack and hole
and balls all at the same time.  I finally spun him around and took hold of
that massive fuckpole of his jutting proudly out, and I gave it a thorough
bathing while I continued to make sure his ballsac was free of anything but
soap bubbles in my other hand.

Bob was very worked up, and I quickly soaped myself, intending to rinse
quickly and get us on to the next event, but he had other ideas.  He seized
the cloth and bottle of liquid soap and told me it was his turn, and he
went to work on me.  He had nice big hands, which felt as good on my neck
and shoulders and back as they had on my cock, and he lathered and rubbed
me all over – just with his hands, no cloth, which was fine with me.  He
had my front first, and he passed my cock and balls and went all the way
down to my feet before he turned me around and did my backside from neck to
heels.  Finally, he brought his hands up and began to lather and knead my
bubble butt, which I admit I thoroughly enjoyed.  So did he, from his
exclamations.  When he worked his fingers and the heel of his hand along my
crack and over my hole, my cock throbbed more intensely.  He finally turned
me around and went to work on my cock and balls with so much later and hand
action I could have easily let myself get carried away and on the climb to
cumming.  He was really enjoying my veiny pipe, both of his hands and then
one with his other on my balls, then again both along my shaft and
encircling my flaring head.

After some time, he looked up at me and said, "Jerry, this is like a dream
come true to me to be naked with a HOT man like you, feeling your body,
enjoying it.  For a guy like me—"

I cut him off.  "A HOT guy like you, Bob!" I interjected, and he looked
down and blushed, redder than from the warm water already.  "I mean it,
brother – you're a hot man."

And he was a hot man.  His responsiveness to my touch, his touch and his
husky, manly body was made to order for a man like me who likes MEN, not
"clones", as I call them.  And that huge fucking cock of his, though
frightening, was absolutely irresistible to me – talk about a MAN!
WOOF!

"It's nice of you to say, Jerry, thanks, but I'm not in the shape I was
when I was in the Corps.  Obviously you've taken care of your body –
it's awesome, man!"  The last part was said with great enthusiasm, like
he'd just noticed.

"Bob, look at my cock," I ordered, and he looked perplexed but followed me
as I gestured down with my head and pointed.  "Does that look like you have
anything to apologize for?  You've got me raging hard, and I can't wait to
get in my bed with you!  So no more self-deprecation, OK?"

He looked back up at me and grinned widely, kind of goofy-looking.
"Brother, you're great for my ego, you know that?" he said.

I reached down and grabbed his fuckweapon.  "Your EGO is apparent," I said
stupidly, realizing I had no idea what that even meant, but enjoying his
rock-hard cock in my hand.  "C'mon, let's dry off and have some real fun!"

We did, and he went to wrap the towel around his waist afterward, but I
pulled it off him and threw it in the corner with mine.  "I don't want you
covered up," I said, and he blushed but grinned that goofy-looking way
again.

His cock was still jutting with intention, so I grabbed it like a huge
rudder and pulled him after me through my condo's living room and to the
other side and through the hall to my bedroom.  When I got to my king-size
bed, I turned around and pushed him against the edge then down until he
fell back on it.

That huge unflagging fucklog was waving up and around after he fell back,
and I couldn't resist and pounced on it mouth-first.  As broadly as I could
stretch my jaw, I barely got the head of that monster inside, but once I
did, I went to work swirling my tongue around and working his hairy nuts.
"OH FUCK, man, that's – OH FUCKKKKKKKK," he exclaimed when I managed to
get a couple of inches in my mouth and his huge head shoved against the
back of my throat.  My spit was already dripping down his pole, so my other
hand began to stroke the part I couldn't get in my mouth, and my reward was
another, louder, "OHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKK!" and his hands on
the back of my head, rubbing my wet head.  "OH GOD – MAN that's GOOD!"
he continued, as I went to town on that challenge.

I looked up at one point – not an easy task with the business end of a
telephone pole shoved to the back of your mouth! – and his chest and
stomach was heaving as he panted through his continuing cries, but his head
was up watching me.  His eyes were wild with pleasure, and he was grimacing
and grinning alternately as I worked his tanks with my one hand and that
monster with my mouth, tongue and other hand.  I felt his cock hardening
more and thickening, and I knew I had him worked up too far, so I eased up
a little.  He threw his head back and let out a long sigh and then a long
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK that's incredible!".  The one hand that
had been working the five or six inches of his amazing shaft I couldn't get
in my mouth I rubbed up over his stomach, and he grabbed it with one of his
hands and held it and then pulled it up to his face.

I moved my hand free and caressed the side of his face and let his cock
plop out of my mouth so I could ask, "Bob, what would you like to do?"

His head moved into my caress, and he closed his eyes in abject pleasure
and moaned.  I climbed up on top of him and pressed my chest and abs and
groin against his and used both hands to caress his face and licked from
below his Adam's apple up to his chin and then again from his shoulder up
to his ear.  His arms wrapped around me tight, his hands roaming on my ass
and back, and his moans became a growl.  "Tell me," I urged into his ear.

I could tell he was suddenly uncomfortable because his hands stopped
suddenly.  I rubbed his face and sucked his neck gently, feeling him loosen
a bit from tension I hadn't realized in his mid-section.  "I bet I know
what you'd enjoy the most," I primed, my voice husky and soft.  When he
didn't respond verbally, I moved up on his body and then pressed my butt
back into the blunt head of his cock, not really knowing HOW I'd possibly
take it, but knowing I wanted it.  He tensed again, and I began to rub his
drooling cockhead in my crack, massaging it with my undulating butt and
gripping it with my assmuscles, and his long moan and "OH MY GOD" was my
answer.

I eased around and was squatting with my leg over his stomach and reaching
into my drawer beside my bed and rummaging around awkwardly.  Bob laughed,
and I rubbed his huge cock against my thigh and back of my knee as I
fumbled to find the XXL condoms.  The lube was easy, and I finally got my
hands around the right packet and yanked them out of the drawer.  His eyes
opened wide, I thought because he was thinking what a slut I am to have all
the necessary supplies.  But he surprised me.

"Uh, thanks for the compliment, but one or two at the most is all we'll
need, Jerry," he said, with an apologetic look at the sheet of six I'd
yanked out.

I threw my head back and laughed, almost losing my precarious balance and
falling off the bed.  Jerry reached up and steadied me with his hands on my
sides.  "Oh, sorry man – no performance pressure intended," I told him.
"I was just glad to get hold of the right ones and pulled them all out."
At that I took the strip of foil packets and dramatically went to tear off
two, then, with a devilish look at him, ripped the strip of six in half and
threw three away.  "I'm an optimist!" I proclaimed with a leer at him,
getting a nice laugh in return.

I got my leg that had been over him swung around under me without
dislocating his cock, which had been rubbing against my leg, and went to
work tearing one of the packets open and rolling it down his shaft with
difficulty because even the extra large size was TIGHT on him.  I'd left
plenty of room at the head, which always made it look funny and not cool
like in the pornos, but if he came anywhere near as much as he precame,
we'd need the capacity.  I got the lube and slicked up that monster, and
then I handed it to him and turned around on my knees so he could reach my
ass.  "Get me good and ready," I ordered.

To my surprise, he pulled me closer and contorted himself on his side until
I felt his tongue in my ass – very welcomely, I might add.  It occurred
to me I had no idea if he was married, straight, gay, bi, whatever.  All I
knew was he was nervous and unaggressive with me, and I'd allowed that to
sway my thoughts toward married and all that it entailed.  But he swiped
his tongue from my sack to the top of my crack and then dove in as well as
he could from that angle, teasing my hole with his tongue.  "Oh, yeah,
Bob," I encouraged, and I got myself moved around so I was sitting on my
face.

Bob seized the opportunity and went to work on my hole in earnest, roughly
pulling my glutes apart and getting his face all up in my crack, his tongue
snaking inside me.  I ground down on his face, and he growled into my crack
and smacked my ass . . . HARD!  "Fuckn A, Bob, eat that hole good and make
me beg for your cock!"

He continued to eat me, and my cock was dripping precum on his sternum in a
steady stream.  I was massaging his balls and watching his enormous cock
throb inside the sheath, glistening and waving about as I undulated and
ground into his hyperactive tongue.  I have no idea how many "OH FUCK!"s
and "Eat that fuckhole GOOD!"s I spewed, but I was in bliss, that's for
sure.

The ass-eating frenzy went on and on and finally I was the one who pulled
off, eliciting a moan after Bob's continuous growls as he'd devoured my
hole.  But I WANTED that cock – however I was going to feel for the rest
of the month after it ripped me open, I WANTED it!

"FUCK ME!" I said, scrambling around onto all fours, my hands braced on the
head of my bed.

Bob was up and behind me and pushing that gargantuan thing against my hole
immediately, and I was suddenly afraid he'd ram it in me like a straight
guy usually does.  But he was rubbing it and teasing my hole with that
fist-sized head, and my ass was pushing against it more than he was pushing
against me.  "OH FUCK I WANT THAT COCK!" I shouted, not caring if my
neighbors knew what I a cock slut this husky Corpsman had turned me into!

He had his hands on my waist, with the pressure holding me, but I was
pushing back into him and finally got enough freedom of movement to SHOVE
myself onto that massive cockhead.  "JEEEEEEEEEEESUS!!!!!!!!" I screamed or
hissed or somehow exclaimed as it popped inside me.

"Oh fuck, man, are you OK?" Bob asked, his one hand rubbing my back.

"I," I gasped, "'ll" I continued with gritted teeth sucking in air against
the burn in my hole like someone had shoved a lit flare inside me, "be,"
and another loud intake of breath, "OK," I finished.

JESUS that thing was every bit as ginormous as it had looked – more so
actually inside me.  I momentarily thought I'd have to bail on him fucking
me . . . and then my inner marine took over and reminded me that I hadn't
achieved my mission.  A marine NEVER backs down.

I pounded the headboard of my bed a few times and forced my head to
concentrate on breathing and relaxing my assmuscles.  I moved a little
around it, and I yelped a little, but that just made me angry, and I tried
harder to control my muscles and breathing.  And I moved more, and it
didn't hurt or burn any more, though not less either, so I moved more still
and began to back up on it and feel it STRETCH me as it invaded my
fuckchute deeper.

Bob hissed, "Jesus, FUCK, you are TIGHT, Jer!"

That made me laugh, which made my ass burn like his cock was ripping me
open all over again, but I just pushed through the pain and enjoyed the
levity.  "I may never be tight again, Bob!" I chortled, and with that I
SHOVED back onto him, getting a good several inches of him up inside me.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" I yelled and pushed more.

"You sure, Jer—" he started.

"FUCK ME, marine – DO IT!" I yelled.

And he did.  He shoved into me slowly but steadily, and I was yelling
something like "OHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKK OH MY GOD
FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKK OH FUCK DON'T STOP!" and he followed my order until I
felt the warmth of his groin against my ruined butt and his pubes in my
crack.

I was breathing like a woman in labor – hissing and cussing and panting,
but goddammit I was going to take that fucking cockmonster like a champ if
it killed me.  "FUCK ME, BOB!" I growled and moved my butt around on his
cock despite the pain that still gripped my entire body.

He started to pull out, and I gasped aloud and moved back with him, slowing
his extraction, but not my pain.  So I stopped and then pulled forward away
from him until just that fist-sized head was inside my ring, and then I
SHOVED BACK HARD until he was balls-deep in me again.  "DO IT!" I ordered,
and this time he did.

Without delay he pulled out again, a long stroke until his head was pulling
at my too-tight ring, and then he slammed back into me, HARD . . . and I
suddenly went through that eye of the needle where pain gives way to
pleasure, and the jolt of his huge knob pummeling my prostate on the
in-thrust and scraping it with his obscenely fat, veiny shaft the rest of
the way in and out again until the flange on that impossibly huge head
reaming through my guts knocked my button again on the way out were sending
electric charges from my tailbone through my balls and cock and radiating
through my entire body.

His "GODDAMN your cunt is TIGHT!!!" was competing with my "OH FUCK YEAH –
just fucking FUCK my hole, buddy – DO IT – HARDER – FUUUUUUUUCK
ME!" and we both went at it, matching thrusts, feeling the collision of his
pelvic bone into mine again and again, feeling those jolts of electricity
break wave after wave of pleasure over me.  I was in the zone . . . and
apparently so was he as his body was covered with a thick sheen of sweat.
I smelled his sweat and mine, and it made my head light amid the crack of
the electricity shooting through me.

GodDAMN he was a HOT FUCK!  Big, husky, but with muscles now all working to
slam fuck me deep, hard and long, him long-dicking me like his life
depended on it, his constant stream of expletives and exclamations of
praise for my ass and my body overall, his grunts and groans harmonizing
with my growls and moans and my own exclamations and orders to "FUCK ME
HARDER!" and others.  GOD how I loved a big MAN fucking me!

The pain of that ginormous fuckpole was but an insignificant adjective in
the assertion of his fucking, overwritten by the extremity of the subject,
verb and object of the pleasure he was pumping into me as he long-dicked me
hard and fast, with no sign of finishing anytime soon.  I inhaled deeply of
the smell of our sweat, his particularly, and my head started to spin.  And
then I realized my balls were boiling and about to explode.  "OH FUCK YEAH,
man – FUCK MY LOAD OUT OF ME!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and felt
that log impossibly long-dick me faster and grind into me deeper.  And then
I was cumming, my entire body exploding with sensations of ecstasy, and my
balls pumping my thick ropes of juice out my rock-hard cock all over my bed
and headboard as my cock jerked with each blast.

"OH FUCK, Jer, your ass is fucking CLENCHING on my cock!" he yelled and
threw reached down and around the back of my head and grabbed my short hair
TIGHT in his grip and pulled me up until our foreheads were together.  I
was still awash in the waves of my climax, and suddenly I felt his cock
harder and thicker, and that flanged head flared fatter reaming my guts,
and then I felt that monster manhood start to pump inside me as he yelled
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYY FUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKNNNNNNNNNN
AAAAAAAAAAAAA!"  I reached back and grabbed his nuts in a tight grip,
feeling his body respond by tensing, and then his body was spasming wildly
as he pumped his load out in total abandon, his yells even louder.

A few drops of his sweat, which was spraying wildly off his sweat-soaked
hair and running off his body as he writhed and spasmed with his release,
landed on the side of my face and ran down my cheek toward my mouth, and I
licked at it with my tongue and tasted him, again igniting my primal
senses.  My grip was still sure on his sweaty nuts, holding him DEEP inside
me.

I sort of collapsed against the headboard at some point, and at some point
he fell into my back, straining my hold on his nuts – but no way I was
letting go!  "Jesus CHRIST!" he exclaimed, panting into my back.

"Not Jesus – Jerry," I quipped, giving his nuts a yank, also panting, my
face smashed into the leather of my headboard.

"Yowch!" he yelped with a laugh, and he wrapped his big hairy arms around
me and bit the back of my neck lightly.  Then he licked my neck, and he
pronounced it "MMmmmmmmm tasty!"

We were still connected by his half-hard cock inside me, and the thought of
him pulling out scared me.  The pain was back in the forefront, and I knew
the friction of that movement would be hell.  But I wanted it, wanted to
feel that cock move inside me again.  "Hold the condom," I told him as I
moved forward a little in case he didn't realize I meant for him to pull
out.

Bob's hand moved between his groin and my ass as he started pulling out,
and the burn made me hiss again through my again-clenched teeth.  He
stopped, feeling my body tense as I hissed, but I told him, "Just do it,"
and he did.  And I yelped a little as I felt the fire again in my chute and
then a blaze of fire as my ring was stretched again around that huge knob
of his and then as it was left to tighten its battered muscle as I closed
up.  I could actually feel the sting of air inside me, and I knew my hole
was gaping as it slowly tightened and closed.

"FUCCCCCKKKKKKK," he exclaimed, "That's fucking beautiful!"

I had to laugh, knowing my distended anus had to be anything but beautiful
to behold as it gaped and was undoubtedly swollen.  "Goddamn, Jerry, you're
a sweet talker!" I chuckled.

I moved – every muscle motion sending jolts to my assmuscles . . . or
them sending the jolts as they were affected by my movements, one or the
other – and got myself turned around and saw Jerry, sitting on his
haunches, still holding the condom at the base of his cock, looking more
like a cockring than a spent condom because it was still constricting the
base of his fat fuckrod, even soft.  "Here, let me," I said, reaching for
his manhood and the hugely full sheath encasing it, and I winced loudly as
I moved again.

"You OK?" he asked, reaching out and putting his hand on the side of my
face gently.

I was momentarily taken by the kindness in his motion, and I looked up to
see his look of genuine concern as he looked at me.  But then I remembered
who he was, who I am and what we'd just done.  "Good to go, marine!" I
said, snappily, and pulled the condom off him and held it up.  "And GOOD
JOB, marine!" I added with a wild leer as I playfully swung the enormous
cumload around in the stretched condom like a partially-filled water
balloon.

Bob blushed, which was quite cute by the way.  "I, uh, well, I hadn't done
that in quite a long time," he said, somewhat bashfully, particularly odd
considering he'd just fucked my brains out with his cock so deep inside me
it could have been doing CPR.

I tied off the condom and got up, forcing myself not to scream as I moved
and felt every movement in my ass, and I took the condom to the bathroom
and ran warm water on one cloth and cool water on another.  I came back
with both and put one on the back of Bob's sweating neck and the other I
used to wipe the lube off his pubes, careful NOT to wipe the cum off his
cock.  And then I bent over and took that huge, soft cock in my mouth and
savored the taste of his cum.  DAMN it was good – not too sweet but not
too bitter either.

Bob hadn't expected that, nor did he expect his cock to respond to my mouth
and start growing again that quickly.  But it did, and as I fumbled the wet
cloth over my burning ass as gently as I could to wipe the lube off around
my hole, I was again, that quickly, straining my jaw around that monster.
"OH MAN!" he kept saying, over and over.

Me, I was inhaling his sweaty man scent as I worked to get my nose closer
to his pubes and hairy groin, and I finally pulled off his throbbing cock
and began licking and sucking his sweaty balls.  When I had them both in my
mouth and was running my tongue over them he clamped his hand on my head
and pulled my nose into his crotch tighter and gave a long
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" as he held me there.  I couldn't
breathe much, and what I could was heavy with his sweat and smell, and I
was getting light-headed, either from the lack of air or from the heady
scent of man, THIS man, who'd just fucked me better than I'd been fucked in
a very long time.

I finally had to breathe and got his nuts out of my mouth and sucked in a
deep breath through my mouth as my nose was still buried in his crotch at
the base of his cock.  I went back to work on his cock again, forcing as
much of that huge fuckstump into my mouth as I could and working the shaft
I couldn't get in with one hand and then his balls with my other hand.  He
was moaning and face-fucking me with both his hands firmly holding my head,
and then my middle finger found his sweaty hole and began working it, and
his moans went to growls and cries as he thrust into my mouth and gyrated
his hole on my finger until it was all the way in him.

"Mmmmmmmm," I managed around his pistoning cock, enjoying his pleasure.

"OH FUCK YEAH, Jer," he yelled.  "Hum on my cock, man!"

I did, eliciting more exclamations from him, and then my long middle finger
– piano fingers my mother used to call them – found his prostate and
he yelped in even greater enjoyment.  I hummed and growled on his cock and
worked his button until he was yelling a constant stream of expletives and
I felt his cock starting to get harder and his knob flare out more.  "FUCK
– you're gonna make me cum if you don't—" but he broke off as I
jabbed his button harder, sucked and swirled my tongue faster and stroked
his shaft tighter and he clenched his ass TIGHT on my finger and then
finally started to explode in my mouth.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" he shouted, as his
body spasmed and he jerked and writhed through his climax, blast after
blast of his cum hitting my throat, me choking and gagging but managing to
swallow and not throw up as he dumped his second load inside me.

My own body was electrified, my cock drooling a stream of precum on the
side of the bed where I'd been stooped over him, and he suddenly had his
hands under my armpits and pulled me up onto the bed with greater strength
left in his muscles than I'd given him credit for.  Dead-lifting a one
hundred seventy-five pound man from a position lower than yours while on a
soft surface like a mattress was a feat indeed, and it took my breath away.
Me, a big, strong marine – overwhelmed by another marine's strength –
total bullshit . . . but there you have it.

Then Bob swung me down on the bed and was on me, sucking my own, not
insignificant but no match to his, cock into his mouth and giving me the
blowjob of blowjobs.  I'd say I was embarrassed that I only lasted a couple
of minutes, but the way he sucked, licked and worked my cock and balls, I
doubt anyone could have lasted much longer.  And when my body erupted, it
was every bit the seismic blast that it was when he fucked my first load
out of me that afternoon.  I screamed, I thrashed about, and Bob sucked
down every drop of me I blasted out.

I finally pushed him roughly off me when my uber-sensitive cock nerves
couldn't take any more.  "WOW!" he said, smacking his lips and wiping them
with the back of his big paw.

"Wow indeed," I echoed, watching him then lick the back of his hand and
show his pleasure at my taste on him.

We both panted there, him on his haunches next to me, me on my back with my
arms over my head.  He finally put his hands on my washboard abs and slowly
felt over me, his face showing his enjoyment, which was echoed by my skin
feeling his big warm hand on me.  He suddenly noticed me looking up at him
and got a stricken look and then pulled his hand away and mumbled, "Sorry.
I probably should . . . " and trailed off.

I reached out and took his hand and pulled it back to my stomach.  "Feels
good," I said, and he slowly turned his head to face me again.  I took in
the sight of him – his big frame, his sweaty furry soft body over deep
muscle, his masculine not-too-pretty handsome face.  "Someone's lucky to
have you to look at every day," escaped my lips, and I almost jumped at the
sound of my own thoughts in my words.

He looked down, but he didn't pull his hand back.  "You say that, and
you're the awesome sight here, stud!" he countered.

"Bob, I told you before," I admonished, then stopped.  I wasn't his mother,
his boyfriend, his shrink.  If he wanted to put himself down, it was his
business.  Wait, NO, it wasn't.  He was here, with me, and he'd blown my
mind . . . and I liked the man.  "You're a sexy man, Bob," I said, "And you
just balled me like the stud of studs, brother!  So if you want to put
yourself down, do NOT pull that shit when I'm around, you understand me,
marine?" I barked, that last part outright command-voice.

"SIR, YES SIR!" he yelled involuntarily in response.

I laughed loud at that.  "NOW we're getting somewhere!"

Bob looked at his watch and showed his surprise.  "Do you realize it's been
over three hours since I got here?" he asked, with both shock and worry in
his voice.

"I was watching the cocks, not the clock," I said with a laugh.

He bounded off the bed, and I enjoyed the sight of his big husky body in
motion, even as he inexplicably ran out of my bedroom.  OH, I thought, he
needed to be somewhere or at least check his phone.  And then he was
bounding back in, wearing only his white CK boxer briefs, which while
unflattering at his a-bit-more-than-ample waist sure showed off his massive
package well.  "I, uh, didn't think I'd be here that long, Jerry," he said,
a bit breathless and fumbling with his wallet.  "I had plenty of cash for
the session, but I must owe you several times that for all . . . " he
stopped, halfway in the room, his wallet open but looking at me with a
worried look.

Ah, that's it.  "First of all, I would never charge another marine, as long
as he was a gentleman," I said.  He looked perplexed.  "Second, I would
never charge anyone when a massage morphed into a sexual encounter."  He
looked even more perplexed.  But I'd stopped explaining, and I let him work
through it in his mind.

"Look, Jerry, I have to pay you for your time – you wouldn't have, well,
you, we, you wouldn't have done any of this if I hadn't been a client."  I
just looked at him.  "I mean, well, what I mean is . . . " he stopped.  I
let him stand there for a minute, obviously not getting it.  "I mean," he
started again, but didn't have any more ending to the sentence then than he
had before.

"Bob," I said, getting out of the bed, and stretching, enjoying stressing
him with his enjoyment of the look of me and his discomfort at what he
thought was a predicament.  "There's no charge, as I said."

"You really don't have to do that, Jerry," he said, sheepishly.  "I'm a
client, after all," he added.

"Bob, I didn't have to take you into the shower or bring you to my bedroom,
either.  I didn't have to take your mammoth manhood up my rather unprepared
ass and take the best fucking I've had for years, either.  And I certainly
didn't have to blow you and swallow your awesome studload, either.  I chose
to do those things . . . and before the first one, you'd gone from client
to . . . well to a man I wanted to enjoy sexually, if nothing more.

He was even more perplexed than before.  "More?" he asked.

"Nothing more as in you probably have a wife or girlfriend or hell, I don't
know, a boyfriend or husband – and you came from a hotel, so you don't
even live here – so whatever I might like as far as getting to know you
and enjoying more incredible sex with you, well, guess life isn't working
that way for us."

"You seriously enjoyed this, Jerry?"

"Bob," I tsked and shook my head.  "I'm a physiatrist by profession and a
masseur on the side; I'm NOT an actor!  And THAT was pure enjoyment, in
case you didn't notice what we were doing," I added pedantically.

"You mean you weren't just . . . I don't know, SERVICING me because you
felt sorry for me?"

"JESUS CHRIST, MARINE!" I barked involuntarily, and Bob actually came to
attention, which then took my edge off and made me laugh.  "At ease,
marine.  Sorry – sometimes the training supersedes the current status of
my life."

"May I ask what rank you held?" he asked.

"I left active duty as an O4, but I'm in the reserves as an O5 – the
bump was unearned, but that's the way it worked, and I appreciate the extra
on the income," I said, surprising myself at my extensive disclosure.  I am
usually far less talkative, even less disclosive.  I must really like this
guy!

"I was a buck private – didn't even make PFC," he said.

"There you go again, marine, putting yourself down," I said, feeling the
bark returning.  "You were a United States Marine, Private, and that in
itself puts you in a class of few!"  Yes, I had barked it at him.

He took it well, a smile wide across his face as he had again snapped to
attention and replied, "SIR, YES SIR!" and added a hearty, "OOOOOH RAH!"
which surprised me at how much it warmed me to hear him make that sacred
yell.

"OOOOH RAH, marine!" I responded and reached out and hugged him against me
tight.

He was a little late in returning the hug, but when he did, he wrapped
those big hairy arms around me tighter than my hold on him.  "Thanks, man,
you really are great for my ego, Jer," he said against my ear.

I realized that from him, the dreaded abbreviation of my name I'd hated all
my life didn't sound bad at all, hadn't bothered me any of the several
times he'd used it during the afternoon.  "Be cool with yourself, Bob.
You're a HOT man, and I bet you're a very good man, too."

He squeezed me tighter – which I liked, a lot – and he rubbed my back
hard and fast a couple of times then broke our hug.  "Is there a limb here
or a branch?" he asked, with an unexpected degree of gravity.

Of course, I used my usual tactic when in a tough conversational situation.
I grabbed his package and said, "That's a major limb, Bob, just ask my
brutalized ass!" with a smirk.  But instead of laughing, he looked pained,
and I immediately adjusted.  I took a step closer again, and I said, "Bob,
you're safe here," and rubbed his sexy tummy with my hand and smiled at
him.

"OK, here goes," he said, over a deep breath.  "I'm here for a job
interview, and I found out today I got the job, which is why I treated
myself to the massage," he blurted out.

"OH WOW," I said enthusiastically, and I hugged him as I said,
"Congratulations, Bob, that's awesome!"  And as I hugged him I got it, and
I smiled wider against the back of his head . . . but I wasn't going to
make it too easy.  Marines need a challenge.  "So, now we have geography
sorted."

He laughed against me, which was a good sign.  I waited.  "Well, in for a
penny, in for a pound," he said, and he took a deep breath against me.
"I'm single . . . and the first human being I ever told that I'm gay was my
future boss, today."

I slapped him on the back.  "Good job, marine!" I said and hugged him
tighter.  Back to him – he'd gotten this far . . .

"Soooooooo," he said tentatively, breaking our hug but holding me by my
shoulders, "If you're interested in seeing more of a guy who's fa---" which
he broke off when my stare into his eyes went severe, "Er, a guy who's
fffeeeeeling his way through coming out about ten years after I should
have," he said, sucking in a big breath, "Then here I am!" he finally
finished and expelled a breath I hadn't realized he was holding.

Right then my phone honked – a long ahhhhhoooooogaaaaah, my incoming
text sound – from outside the bedroom, startling both of us.  "Give me a
sec," I said, hoping my ESP was right and that text was my evening
appointment cancelling.  I hurriedly turned around as I picked up the phone
off the side table where I usually left it when I had a client in, and I
looked through to him as I thumbed off the lock.  "Consider it a date, by
the way," I said, enjoying his grin at that.  I got to the incoming text
and pumped a fist.  "YES!" I called out enthusiastically.

"Good news, I take it?" Bob said a little awkwardly when I went back to my
bedroom.

"The BEST news I could get, second only to finding out that you're single
and local," I responded, enjoying his the blush that accompanied his grin.
"Turns out . . . I'm free tonight," I said in a feigned coquettish way,
which on balance was far too inappropriate for a marine before we even get
to how corny it was.  "That is, unless we accelerate that date," I added in
a suitably manly way.

Bob's grin went to a full-body smile.  "SIR!" he said forceably, startling
me.  "Consider it a date, SIR!" he finished, having come to attention in
his boxer briefs.

I grinned and pulled them down.  Yeah, we were going to have fun together!

- -

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