His Hands
The moan came from somewhere deep inside me. A primal space.
The warm oil. The strong hands. The contact of skin on skin.
His legs straddled the back of my thighs. I could feel the warmth of his buttocks, the tickle of the hairs on his balls.
The oil coated hands slid over my ass, from bottom to top. Up and down they went.
Sometimes in a way that his thumbs would travel in my crack, grazing my anus causing me to squirm a bit.
Hungry for more.
How did I get here some might wonder. How did I get to be naked on a massage table with a equally naked man sitting on my thighs and running his hands all over my well oiled ass. How did I get to where I wanted more than what he was already doing.
Valid questions, I guess.
Forget all the lifetime of denial and suppression. The fooling myself into thinking I`m not interested in man on man sex. The closed door, darkened room looking at the porn and reading the stories. All the casual glances at other men when out shopping. The dabbling in online hookup sites, with always backing out at the end.
I got here because I had to. I had to know. I had to answer the many voices in my head telling me time is running out.
So I saw the ad for an "Intimate Male Massage" and finally took the leap.
I called the number in the ad, almost hanging up just as soon as it stopped ringing.
Hello, what can I do for you today came over the phone in a very pleasant voice.
Sweaty palms and a dry throat I croaked out a single word and almost chocked getting it out.
Hello, I saw your ad for a massage I finally got out.
Okay, yes he said. What would you like to know he asked.
While he was talking I managed a sip of water I desperately needed.
Well, this would be my first ever massage of any kind, so I`m really not sure what all to ask, other than the price.
