This is my first attempt at writing a Gay story. The thought had been on my mind for some time, but I didn't set about turning it into print until a few weeks ago. The origin has some basis in my real life, as I initially wrote it on behalf a friend who plays a starring role. He had the misfortune to be forced to refrain from social contact for some while, and I meant the story as something cheer him up. All characters in the story are demonstrably of adult age.
I read the notes on my client again. Most often, in my work as a massage therapist, the background and needs of the client are fairly straightforward, often routine. Typically it means providing standard therapeutic body massage with comforting words, or something lighter for relaxation where the client might indicate how firm/soft or how much/little of their body they wanted massaged. Occasionally a case would involve someone with special needs. One such client was Nikki, a man aged about 50, whose previous therapist had been reluctant to continue after the first few sessions.
The agency had referred him to me because I was happy to accommodate the more unusual requirements of their clientele. I have undergone advanced training as a male nurse as well as counselling and physio, and am not easily phased by unusual cases, though I didn't see anything particularly abnormal here. Ostensibly Nikki had some issues with his digestion and bowels, which were naturally causing him a lot of anxiety. I wondered if they were also interfering with some of his pleasure pursuits.
Before I arranged to see him, I needed to get his issues clear in my mind so as to be able to provide the therapy he was looking for. The notes and medical background gave me a good insight into the client, but they were too painstakingly detailed to be worth repeating here. I should mention that most of our therapists are women, generally preferred by client of both gender, but I noted his specific request to be treated by a man. After reading his notes I could easily understand, why the previous therapist, an older man with a somewhat old-fashioned attitude to his work and using very orthodox techniques, had become unsettled by Nikki's response. He was clearly cisgender, and apparently gay rather than bisexual. That was fine with me, being pansexual. Although cis, I enjoyed gender-fluid role plays and when the opportunity occurred I liked to wear outfits to suit.
I was some ten years younger than Nikki, old enough to know the therapy business and about intimate man-man contact, but young enough to be open-minded. I was intrigued, partly by the gender ambiguity of his name. Although I professionally present myself as being hetero-normative in orientation, privately I confess to bisexual tendencies with a particular liking for men with a noticeable feminine side. It was clear that Nikki was gay (rather than bi), and cis. That was fine with me, being pan in orientation and with a feminine side. The situation was a piece of good fortune, giving me the opportunity to enjoy doing things to his body within my role as a professional therapist. I looked forward to seeing him.
I called Nikki to tell him his regular therapist was no longer available and I would be taking his place, though without explaining why. I arranged the time and duration of visit, and made clear that Nikki should be completely shaven at the intimate locations, which I understood was normal for him, but otherwise dress and present himself in a manner he found most comfortable. There was one last important thing, though he most likely would remember to do it anyway.
"Please make sure to completely void and cleanse your bowels beforehand, and to empty your bladder."
That morning, I showered and thoroughly laved inside as well, finishing by rinsing with rose water and applying similarly scented moisturiser to my entire body. I prepared my own external appearance as I felt would be suitable, including the shaving of my underarms and intimate zones. At such times I was pleased that I possessed minimal body hair elsewhere. It was fortunate that I visited my hairdresser a few days earlier, to retrim my hair in the attractively androgynous style favoured by Annie Lennox back in the 1980s. A slight pity I wasn't similarly blonde, but I reasoned that my natural dark brown probably suited me better. The shaving might not have been required, but it left me feeling good and helped to immerse me into my role. Turning my thoughts about our forthcoming session into action, I lasciviously ran my hands over my naked body and caressed my freshly shaved sensitive areas, in anticipation of doing the same to Nikki.....
Still naked, I tentatively tweaked my nipples. As I expected, they were engorged and rather tender to my touch, due to the clamps I'd used on them earlier -- a frequent practice of mine. The mild pain has the effect of stimulating my arousal mechanism, nearly always causing a drop of precum to leak out. Noticing the time, I dressed suitably for our appointment, gathered together my gear, and set off.
Nikki's abode was a basement flat, discreetly located a short walk from the seafront of one of the West of England's well-to-do seaside towns. I stepped down to the door which was opened already for me. I was pleased to see he had a standard massage table, so I wouldn't have to bring my own and manhandle it into his flat. My first impression was his height, at least six foot, maybe close to six-six in his heels, and towering over my five-nine. For someone so tall, he was very slim and his limbs and facial features were surprisingly delicate. He wore a long, elegant red faux-silk dress coming almost to his ankles, and vivid red pumps. With his honey-blonde wavy collar length hair, the nicely applied makeup and lipstick, he could easily have passed for a woman were he not so tall. I thought I noticed a hint of tit under his dress, but maybe that was wishful thinking. I was sure I could provide the therapy he needed. I was equally sure I would enjoy doing so.
I introduced myself as Edward. I complemented him on his feminine appearance, especially his coif and makeup, on which he clearly made a good effort. That done, I wasted no more time, and slipped off my outdoor shoes and coat to reveal myself dressed solely in a short sleeved, PVC nurse's uniform dress with popper stud fastening down the front. It wasn't indecently short, about mid-thigh on an average female nurse. I was glad the flat was warm since I was naked underneath, not even undies. I didn't normally wear the outfit for professional therapy, it would be grossly inappropriate and unacceptable. However, I was confident that Nikki was one of the rare exceptions for whom it was entirely suitable. That was confirmed when Nikki's mouth popped wide open in amazement. He must have thought he was dreaming, because it was several seconds before he was able to speak.
"Wow, that a fabulous outfit! Are you really going to wear it while you do the treatment?"
"Oh yes, I love wearing it and it's exactly right to aid in your therapy. And now you've seen me in it, please address me as Nurse."
During the short drive to his place, and even more so now as I moved around, I was aware of the slightly rough cloth backing as it pressed and brushed against me, reminding me of the sensitised state of my nipples. My cock hung free and the tip repeatedly caught against the inside of my dress as I moved. The contact with my body would keep me in a state of some arousal throughout the session, and I expected with pleasurable anticipation that I would frequently seep some juice onto it, adding to the already extensive stains that had accumulated during non-professional encounters. I realised my limited attire would likely give Nikki an occasional glimpse of my arse crack and genitals, and I wondered if he would, at some point, reach underneath and to touch me "down there".
It was obviously my place to take the initiative. We sat side by side on the sofa, and I began by asking him to go over the issues which motivated him to seek the therapy we provide.
"Please Nikki, do not feel awkward or shy about telling me your needs, and what you are looking for. I need to know in order to address them. And do tell me if there is anything special I can do for you. I am very flexible about how long the session takes, and about what it includes. And I won't be in the least shocked or offended by anything you might say."
Unsurprisingly perhaps, he was rather shy about the specifics and spoke only in vague terms. However, it was enough to confirm he had some long standing anxieties, a strong desire for man-to-man physical contact, and a well-developed libido.
I continued.
"I understand you are happy to adopt something of a submissive role, and wish to receive a full body massage, with no limits on where I touch you. Is that right, Nikki?"
