Guys never admit they need assistance. Just take male drivers that get lost - how often do they admit they need directions? It never happens. And this is what is so great with guys - you can fuck them in semi-public, and they will rarely, if ever, shout for help! Ever straight guys - or as a matter of fact - ESPECIALLY straight guys. Which I have done repeatedly, and will continue doing as long as it gets me off pounding my chocolate colored-dick into muscular, white, asses.
I was 20 years old, and had just recently moved on my own. Naturally, within a week from leaving my parent's house, I was broke. One day I noticed that the neighborhood Turkish bath needed help, so I applied and got the job. The work was okay, not too exhausting: receiving customers, handing out towels and slippers, and take their money. After having done this for some weeks, one of the masseurs quit. As I had shown some genuine interest in learning some basic technics, my boss asked me if I wanted to try out that line of work. I said sure, but I needed some training first. The pay was better, but even better than that was that I would get to fondle and touch hard-bodied females. Or so I had imagined, but my hopes were quickly put out. Female customers had female masseuses, male customers had, well, me!
To begin with, I had a professional approach to my job. I needed to learn the ropes and basic techniques. However, once I started to become experienced, I started to experience other things as well. As for instance that most male customers getting hard-ons while receiving a massage. Or that lots of male customers were more than willing to pay for some extra service. To begin with, I would offer the occasional hand-job. It was quick, easy, and left a handsome tip. But after a while, I started getting aroused by the entire situation: me, the young, dark brown, guy from a poor neighborhood, controlling these wealthy, white, men. To begin with I was cautious - I would rub my crotch against them during massage, or let a finger slip into their asses. Just in and out, so they wouldn't feel comfortable about making a scene. After a while, I became more and more assertive and controlling. I would jack them off while finger-fucking them, or sit on top of them, still dressed, while rubbing my cock against their ass-cracks. Small things, but arousing me, and always surprisingly never creating a scene. Before a year had passed, I had had the first guy suck me off, and shortly after that, I had my first fuck. Right there, on his back, on the massage table. Big, strong, guy, moaning like a bitch in heat. It had been great. Sure, it was risky, had I been caught, I would have been fired on the spot. But the sensation of force-fucking a helpless, white, ass, and getting paid for it...well, it beat any risk. And in most cases, my customers must have enjoyed it. At least a little. Or maybe they were just too embarrassed to tell anyone they had been man-handled and fucked by that young, dark-skinned, punk in the massage parlor!
So, another day at work, and I walked into the lobby to receive my next customer. I had been longing all day for some supreme piece of white male, and boy, were my prayers heard! A handsome, well-built, blond-haired, and white male was sitting in the couch. When he saw me, he got up, and I got a chance to study him better. He was good-looking, and the twinkle in his eye as we shook hands, told me that this was Today's Special Customer. He told me his name was Shane, and that this was his first full-body massage ever.
"Good for you!" I smiled. "I'm Marco your masseuse. Our room is over there. While I prepare for your massage in the adjacent room, just take off your clothes and lie on your back on the massage table. If you feel it is necessary, just use one of the towels on the shelf to cover yourself and I will return when you are ready."
He just nodded and watched me as I turned and left the room. After having giving him some minutes to undress, I returned to the room and closed the door. He was lying on his back on the massage table, with a towel over his thighs. His back well-toned, his skin perfect and tanned. But he seemed like the anxious kind, the ones who get all jittery and nervous naked around other men, so I was pretty sure he had kept his underwear on. Being with a younger, dark-skinned, male as myself, probably didn't help. Well, I was soon to tear whatever underwear he was wearing, straight out from those muscular thighs...
I put some oil on my hands and rubbed them together vigorously to warm up the oil and my hands. "Just close your eyes and relax and let me give you that really good massage that you have ordered. "
I had quickly discovered that my customers enjoyed my voice, that they said it made them help relax. My voice is quite deep and mellow, and I would keep talking in a low voice, while circling in on customers I desired, until I deemed they were ripe for plucking.
I started standing behind his head by gently kneading his shoulders and neck area. My hands are quite large and very strong. I continued down his chest and his upper arms. My touch was strong yet gentle, finding the tension and knots in his muscles. I applied more oil to my hands and started to massage his pecs. He had a gorgeous, hairless. body. I was sure he must have worked out a lot.
"I like the way your body feels" I said. "Especially your chest and abs. They are so smooth and your muscles are very well defined. I really like the way it makes your nipples look and feel." With that I pinched both of his nipples. They seemed a bit larger than normal nipples for a man, and they were standing straight out from my chest as hard as pencil erasers. He seemed a bit surprised that I did that, but from what I could discern, he also seemed to like it. At least, he hadn't protested. If they didn't react at that, it usually meant they wouldn't react to what was to come later, either. As if a barrier had been breached. The barrier of being sexually assaulted by a hung masseur!
I then moved to the other end of the massage table and started to massage his feet and toes. I added more oil to my hands as I moved further up his legs past his calves to his thighs. He was now getting more and more relaxed and closed his eyes to enjoy the effects of the massage. I enjoyed studying his well-sculptured body. His muscles were easy to locate and work on. He hadn't noticed, but I had removed his shirt. I was now clothed only in my skintight white shorts.
My hands had now reached the bottom of the towel covering him and let them slide under to continue the massage. As I reached further under the towel I noticed that he had not removed his underwear.
"What do we have here? We don't need these on...we are all men here." I said jokingly, but with an undertone. I grabbed the waistband of his bikini briefs with both hands and pulled them down and completely off of him. He was startled by this move, and attempted to sit up, but I just put one of my hands on his chest and firmly pushed him back down into a horizontal position.
"Oh don't worry, Shane. I just don't want to get any of my massage oil on your underwear and ruin them."
