Man Oh Man

Well, here I was lying on my backyard lounger, a glass of red wine in my hand, toasting my 48th birthday ... alone. Twice married, twice divorced and seeing my two kids for a few hours a couple of times a month, and as a result of the rather acrimonious ending to my second marriage, more than a little wary of any further involvements, so I’d become almost a social recluse. Work took up an increasing proportion of my time as I hid from life, so today was something of a red letter day, I’d allowed myself some time off to just sit and think about me and where I was going with my life.

It was almost with a feeling of annoyance that I heard the side gate open and saw Stephen wander in and move to the garden shed. He didn’t notice me lying there for a moment, and almost jumped out of his skin when I called out “Hi Stephen”.

“Oh, hi, Mr ... um ...Peter” he stammered.

I grinned ... when I’d taken Stephen on some months ago to keep the yard and the lawn tidy I’d insisted he call me Peter, but he wasn’t very comfortable with it. I guess in his eyes I was pretty ancient and deserving of the respectful address his parent’s had always insisted on, but I refused to be made to feel old in my own home by a somewhat shy 18 year old boy, so I told him that if he didn’t call me Peter, he wouldn’t get the job. Well, he needed the money to help with his school fees, so although he blushed furiously every time I was around, he did call me Peter.

He scuttled into the shed and dragged out the lawn mower and I knew it was time for me to head indoors, so with a quick wave I took my glass of wine and wandered inside, hearing the motor start up immediately. I stopped and glanced out of the kitchen window and watched for a few moments as he pushed the mower around the yard, head bowed, sweat already beading his forehead. I noticed that every few moments he’d stop and straighten his back, sometimes reaching around to press on the lower portion, and I realized that he was in some pain.

I waited until I heard the motor splutter to a halt and wandered back out, carrying a tall glass with an ice cool drink in it. I called him over as he locked the shed, and handed it to him. As I wasn’t normally here when he came, he had his own key to the shed, and that’s where I normally left his money, but I hadn’t expected him today, so my money was still inside. I invited him in, gesturing at his quickly emptied glass and asking if he’d like another one. He said he would, so we both wandered into the kitchen and sat down.

“I couldn’t help but notice, Stephen, that you appear to be having some back problems, nothing too serious I hope” I said.

He shook his head, his eyes a little downcast, “I guess I just strained it a little at the game yesterday” he said.

I sat down opposite him, “Oh, and what did your masseur say when he treated it?” I asked.

He flushed, “Oh it wasn’t much, it wasn’t worth bothering him with” he muttered.

My eyes widened, “You mean you didn’t get any treatment? You realize that just a small strain can end up as something serious if you don’t get remedial action quickly” I said. “My first wife jagged her back playing squash and didn’t get any treatment on it and ended up with such chronic pain that I had to do an extensive massage course just so that I could help relieve her suffering once or twice a week”

His head jerked up, “Oh, I didn’t know you did massage” he said.

I laughed, “Oh, I haven’t for a while, but I still have the table up in the spare room and all the oils for when the occasional friend needs some work done” I said. Then I looked at him closely, “Perhaps I could help you ...that’s if you want to do something about it” I said, quietly.

He sat up straight, blushing, “Oh, I couldn’t put you to all that trouble, I’m sure it will be ok” he said, and moved to stand, but immediately pain hit him and he grunted and froze.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, and I think you really do need it, so why don’t you go into the spare room, second on your right and make yourself ready. You’ll fine a small towel on the chair to cover you, I’ll join you in a few moments. “ I said.

He hesitated until the pain hit him again, then half stumbled out of the room and down the corridor.

I gave him quite a few minutes to get ready, filling two more glasses and carrying them into the room with me, giving one to him and setting one on the side cupboard. He had undressed and was lying on his stomach on the table, the small towel discreetly draped over his backside. I grabbed some oil from the cupboard and poured a little into my hand and started to work it into his shoulders, talking quietly to him about his sport, what game he’d been in , how he’d gone, all those things designed to make him feel comfortable, because I could tell from the state of his shoulder muscles that he was extremely uptight.

I moved slowly and carefully down his back, being firm but not painfully hard with my strokes, working each batch of muscles as I came to them, hearing his occasional groan as I obviously tapped into a particularly sore spot. I worked hard on the base of his back, moving the towel slightly so my strokes encompassed some of his upper ass cheeks, and he groaned quite loudly as I dug deep in some places.

Then I moved away from that area and went all the way to his feet, massaging them and then his calves and the backs of his knees, which proved to be particularly sore, I guessed from the kicking he’d been doing. “These muscles are incredibly tight, Stephen” I said, “Why do I get the impression that you don’t get the amount of massage you should be getting when you’re playing such a bruising game?”

He was silent. “Well? how many games or practices have you had in the last month?” I asked.

“Three times a week” was his muttered reply.

“And how many massages have you had?” I asked.

“None” he whispered.

“None!” I almost yelled, “Why that’s totally crazy, why not?”

His answer was so soft, I could hardly hear it, “It costs too much” he whispered.

I stopped massaging a moment, “I can’t believe that, you mean the masseur charges you?” I said.

He nodded, “Yes”

“But doesn’t the college cover his costs?” I asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t think so, I mean every one has to pay, even the coach” he said.

“Well, I’m damned, I’ve never heard anything so stupid in all my life, and I suppose there are other’s like you that can’t afford it too, others that are risking permanent damage and pain? well, that isn’t going to happen for you, from now on, any time you want a massage, you come and see me, understand?” I said.

He half lifted himself and looked back, “Oh, I couldn’t, I mean that would be imposing, I couldn’t” he stammered.

“Rubbish, I’ll take no argument about it, I mean this table is going to waste anyway, so you might as well benefit, now lie down, I haven’t finished yet” I said, and he slumped back down on the table. As he did so the small towel slipped off and cascaded to the floor on the opposite side from me. I thought for a moment of retrieving it, but decided I needed to get back to the massage while he was still mulling over what I’d said. I began to massage again, moving slowly up the outside of his thighs, really digging in to the tight muscles there, and he was moaning and writhing slightly again.

Then I found myself staring down at his tight, muscular butt cheeks, and without even thinking, my hands moved up from his thighs to knead and massage the cheeks themselves, causing him to freeze momentarily, a gasp coming from his lips, his cheek muscles taut and quivering. I ignored his reaction, keeping my hands moving firmly over and around his cheeks, gradually feeling the tension fade away, hearing the gasp become a sigh, watching his body move slightly, his legs coming apart. That allowed me to run my hands down over his cheeks and onto his inner thighs, kneading firmly again, spreading my hands and gripping his skin and muscles and squeezing and stroking.

Then I stopped and moved around the table to the other side. I could have picked up the towel then, but instead, kicked it aside and started to work on the other cheek, kneading it, stroking it, then running my hands down over his inner thighs again. Was it my imagination? Or had he moved as I walked around the table, surely his legs weren’t as wide spread as this, why I could now clearly see his cock nestled between his thighs.

My hands seemed to slow and become lighter as I found myself staring at his cock, it seemed to twitch slightly whenever my hands came close, as they stroked his inner thighs. I found myself totally fascinate by it. I watched it carefully as I ran my hands up over his ass cheeks, firstly as heavy as before ... no reaction, then light and caressingly ... and there was a definite twitch and thickening. I found my own breath becoming shallow, my own cock beginning to stir ... damn! What was I doing here!

Without even thinking, I allowed my hands to stroke down over his ass cheeks onto his inner thighs, this time letting my fingers stretch much deeper ... so deep in fact, that as I stroked down towards his knees, the tips of my fingers lightly stroked over his cock! This time his body jerked wildly, lifting from the table, and his gasp was loud and totally audible ... but I acted as if I hadn’t heard or seen anything .. I continued to stroke, back up to his ass cheeks, my strokes becoming softer and softer.

I was staring down between his legs... and his cock had shot to full erection! It was long, and quite thick ...and quite, quite beautiful! Once again I allowed my hands to trail downwards, and I felt his ass cheeks tighten as I got closer and closer to his cock, I sensed that he was holding his breath, whereas my own was loud and ragged. I hesitated, and even as I did so, his body seemed to lift slightly from the table, as if searching for my hands, so I let my fingers move on, slowly, softly down lower and lower into his inner thigh until ... the tips were resting on his throbbing cock. His breath seemed to escape from him with a whoosh, and a shiver ran right up and down his body. Slowly, teasingly almost, I moved my finger tips down the length of his cock...then back up ...then all the way back down again ... before moving upwards again ...and stroking over his tight, heavy balls ...massaging the oil all around them, hearing a sound like a sob come from him as his body twitched again.

Then I pulled back, shuddering myself, wondering what the hell had come over me, feeling so turned on that my own trousers felt like shackles around my cock. I quickly bent down and retrieved the towel and placed it over his still twitching ass cheeks, and cleared my throat. “Uh, I think that’s enough for now ...if you want me to ... massage you again ...come over any time” I stammered. Then fled the room ...rushing to my own room and dashing into the ensuite, tugging off my clothes and running the shower as icy cold as I could get it, and I huddled there against the wall, my cock more rock hard than I could ever remember it being, my body shuddering with repressed desire.

Damn, damn, damn, what a state I was getting myself into, what a foolish thing to do, if he mentioned it to anyone I wouldn’t be able to show my face in the neighborhood again. Never, never in my life had I even looked at a man and felt anything sexual, and here I was, pumping my cock over an 18 year old youth ...now I knew I was going crazy!!!!

By the time I was sufficiently recovered to come out of my room, Stephen was mercifully gone. I sighed as I made myself a cup of coffee with shaking hands ...somehow I felt that was the last time I’d see Stephen, I’d have to get someone new to do the back yard, or maybe do it myself if I was no longer safe to be around!

I had a very sleepless night, tossing and turning, seeing Stephen’s thick cock and heavy balls, imagining myself ...oh god, maybe I needed to take a break, take a holiday, go far, far away ... or get myself another woman!!! that thought send shudders through me as images of the divorce court came flooding back, her grinning features as she screwed me for every last penny ..and his grinning face too, the man she’d been cheating on me with since just a week after our marriage ..oh, no .. I couldn’t possibly go through that again! I finally fell asleep.

The next day I felt dreadful, wandering around inside and out, not quite sure what to do, waiting any minute for Stephen’s parents to come pounding on my door ..or maybe even the police ..oh god.. how could I have been so stupid. But no one came ...and I started to relax ..perhaps it had all been in my fevered imagination after all.

It was early evening before my solitude was finally broken when the door bell rang. I hesitated, wondering if I should just ignore it, pretend I wasn’t there .. but then remembered that my car was still in the drive way, so everyone knew I was home. With some trepidation I walked to the door and opened it, and almost gasped in surprise as I found Stephen standing there, his head lowered in that familiar shy way of his, a flush on his face. “I ...I’m sorry to disturb you” he stammered, “But you did say if I needed another ... massage”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing, he was actually asking me to massage him again ...after what had happened. Without a word, I stepped aside and he almost scurried past me, glancing over his shoulder, “Uh ..is the table still up?” he asked.

I shook myself out of my shock, “Oh yes, you know where it is, I’ll get us both a cool drink” I said, and walked off into the kitchen. My head was buzzing ... my body was buzzing ...this couldn’t be happening. But it was, as I found out when I walked into the spare room. I almost dropped the glasses as I saw that Stephen had stripped off and was lying on his front of the table ... but hadn’t bothered with a towel at all, he was completely naked .. and completely visible.

I walked slowly over, handing him the drink, hearing his words of thanks but not registering them as I stared down at his naked body, at his tight ass ..and widespread legs. It was like being in a dream state as I slowly poured the oil onto my hands and started to massage his shoulders and back ...and he moaned lightly and seemed to soften under my hands. There was a little tension there ... perhaps nervousness .. but certainly nothing like the day before, so my stroking was softer and more gentle, and when it got down to his naked ass it was more like a caress than a massage. I hesitated a moment before moving my hands onto his ass cheeks, “Are you ok, Stephen? “ I asked quietly.

There was a slight gulping sound, and his voice sounded a little hoarse and strained, “Yes, Peter ... uh .. I’m fine” he said, and shifted his body slightly so his legs came apart even more. I groaned inwardly as I found myself staring down once again at his half erect cock. Then my hands were moving slowly, gently over his tight ass cheeks, kneading the muscles just a little, but mostly just stroking and caressing. Then down over his outer thighs all the way to his feet and back up ...along his inner thighs all the way to his twitching ass cheeks again ...and even in that relatively short time, his cock had stiffened and swollen and was throbbing as it lay there!

No, No, I whispered to myself ... but I couldn’t help staring ..and I couldn’t help reacting ... my own cock was straining again to break free of my shorts. I found that my hands had stopped moving, one resting on his ass cheek, the other on his inner thigh just centimeters from his gorgeous cock, and I knew I wanted to touch him again ... my whole body was shaking ...and Stephen was holding his breath.

Then I pulled away, standing back, shivers running through me, flexing my hands, staring ... staring ... and Stephen, as if sensing something was wrong, turned his head and looked at me ... and then...to my total astonishment ...he rolled over onto his back! ... and he was lying there with his glorious cock, rock hard, standing tall, bobbing and throbbing right in front of my eyes, leaning back slowly towards his firm belly.

I don’t know if I groaned aloud ... I felt that I did, but Stephen said nothing, just lay there looking at me, a flush on his face, a curious half smile on his face. A face that moments later I was staring down into as training automatically took over and I poured oil on my hands and stepped forward and started to massage his shoulders and his chest and his stomach. His cock twitched and jerked as my hands stroked over his abdomen, but I ignored it, moving around it to work down his legs to his feet, then moving around the table to work on his other leg, this time from the feet up ..all the way up to his inner thighs and ...oh god ...his heavy balls siting there invitingly ..and that long, thick cock.

Shudders ran through me again, my eyes flicked up to meet his and locked there .. I saw the flush deepen, then his tongue come out and slide over his lips ...and my hand moved with a will of its own ...moved to cup those heavy balls and stroke them ...watching the shudder run through his body ... then ... my hand moved up and wrapped itself around his cock .. lifting it from his belly, stroking it straight and tall ...and Stephen’s eyes closed and he groaned, lifting his body slightly off the table as if searching for my hand.

My eyes detached from his, returned to his cock ... damn but it looked so good! I stroked it gently, feeling its softness and its firmness, watching as its head slipped sensuously from its pocket of wrinkled skin .. thick and deep purple in color, exquisitely shaped, a sight hint of wetness right at the tip. I found myself bending forward, closer and closer. I’d never seen a man’s cock this close up before .. never actually touched one until now, at least not like this. My own cock was circumcised, Stephen’s wasn’t, so it was totally different to touch and feel from my own.

And then ...oh god .. my lips were touching it, my tongue was touching it, tasting that slightly salty taste of Stephen’s pre cum as it oozed from the slit ..and Stephen was groaning loudly ... groaning and lifting, thrusting his cock upwards, deeper into my mouth .. and I was opening wide and taking it ...and loving it...and reacting to it .. my whole body shaking, my cock almost exploding in my pants .. and my mind was in turmoil as the realization came that I was sucking a man’s cock, sucking it and loving it.

One hand dropped to Stephen’s balls and stroked and squeezed them .. the other encircled the base of his cock and stroked upwards in short, jerking movements .. but mostly it was my mouth .. my mouth and my tongue .. licking, sucking, eating his hard, hot cock. And Stephen was moaning “Yes, yes, oh god yes” and bucking, thrusting, fucking his cock into my devouring mouth.

And then .. without warning .. he arched and screamed .. and his cock EXPLODED!!! ... and my mouth was filled with gushing, hot liquid, hitting the back of my throat so hard that I gagged and almost coughed it all up .. but then it was slipping down my throat and I was swallowing ... swallowing it and opening wide for more .. and sucking and lapping as he spurted and spurted his juices into my eager mouth. My hand was pumping his cock furiously, urging every last drop of juice from his spewing cock and eating it ... and LOVING IT!!! I’d never tasted anything like it .. oh god .. it was beautiful .. and I drank it and drank it until there was no more left to drink .. and his cock was softening in my hands.

Then I pulled back and straightened up, some of his juices dribbling from the corners of my mouth, and down my chin, and I looked over at him. His eyes were open wide, his nostrils were flaring and his mouth was open wide, gasping in air .. and his eyes were like burning coals staring at me .. drawing me ...and I moved up and leaned over and kissed him! Thrusting my tongue deep into his mouth, still coated with his juices, sharing the taste of his own cum with him .. and he shuddered ... grasping the back of my head and kissing me deeply as his tongue danced with mine. God it was all so different than it had ever been, but my whole body seemed to be glowing from the pleasure of it.