Silent Massage

Author's note:

Apologies both to my gay and bi and even straight colleagues for using this category. Come on Lit there's enough of us who consider ourselves to be bi to warrant our own category.

Thanks

James

*****

Silent Massage.

They both want it, but won't admit it!

James, is in his mid-forties. He is married to Kelly a pretty blonde in her early forties. By choice they have no children. They are both successful in business with her running a training consultancy, which takes her all over the UK and occasionally overseas. He runs a successful business providing marketing advice mainly to large companies. They are financially very comfortable and they can both have pretty much whatever they want. Despite all that he is desperately unhappy and very lonely. With Kelly travelling nearly half of each month James is alone an awful amount. Inevitably that has affected their marriage and particularly their sex life, which at the best nowadays is intermittent.

He was trying to take off a few pounds and tone up his legs for the upcoming tennis season. Losing himself in the music he pushed his body to the limit going for what used to be called 'the burn' when Jane Fonda started the craze for celebrity work out videos. His legs ached and his lungs felt like exploding as he completed twenty minutes fast running. Almost staggering to the changing room covered in sweat he nodded to a few members with who he had become acquainted.

James's work out obsession was not just to maintain his trim body. It was also like a penance, a sort of confessional. He worked out so hard he forgot about his sex bereft life-style. He pushed from his mind the lurid thoughts he continually had about other men. He banished the idea that was rarely far from his thinking of having another affair. He had one several years ago and had vowed never again. But now he was not sure about that vow. He was not convinced that he would be able longer-term resist satisfying the dam of frustration, not sure he would be able to stop himself finding at the best a fuckbuddy and at worse a lover.

The joy of making his muscles scream had a purging effect on him and made him feel a different man; almost normal he often smiled afterwards.

Completing his hour long 'burn' he changed and went to the pool. His fifty lengths in the solitude of the water gave him time to think. But as usual his thoughts were not logical; they were not as they should be. Pushing himself to the limit made him think about his body, made him think about what his body wants and needs. Yes the extremes of the burn made him feel horny.

After the swim, steam and sauna James was, as usual on the massage table. He again tried to push the wanton thoughts out of his mind. He tried thinking of work, but then his mind focused on the new, young marketing director who had just become a client. He tried thinking of the upcoming tennis season, but all that did was flood his mind with visions of the young tennis players. Near to the end of his swim his thoughts focused on a young personal trainer who was still on duty as a life guard watching him go up and down the pool. His mind had gone into overdrive about him and he had imagined trying it on with him and wondered what would happen. Nowadays, young men featured far more often in his thinking and when he masturbated, which was becoming more and more frequent, most days in fact, he often coincided his climax with the thoughts of a cock exploding in his mouth. Fortunately, maybe, the PT left as James was showering.

Usually he could relax when having a massage. Normally the soothing, probing fingers of the muscular masseur eased the tension away. But tonight for some inexplicable reason that wasn't the case. The life guard kept coming into his mind and the sensuous experience of the hands on his back began to fan the already inflamed passions in his mind and body. It was as if his entire being had become sensitised to the stimulus of sex. James had been slow to realise what was happening to him as the masseur finished his back and asked him to turn over. He had thought it was all in his mind. It wasn't and it was almost with surprise that he became aware that his nipples had hardened under the small towel that the big boned, but not unattractive masseur used to cover his customers' modesty. More worrying to him, of course, was that his cock was hardening. He was not erect, but in that half way state when the penis is growing and hardening, but is far from being rampant. There was another smaller towel draped across his lower body that was covering that, or so he hoped. Lying there eyes closed, James felt the tingling, titillating sensations of his arousal.

James had got into the habit of having a massage about every other week or so after a big session at the gym and usually went to a practice on his way home. He did not have a regular masseur, but just had any who were available. Jake had massaged him once before a month or so ago and James had been impressed by his skill and the depth to which his probing fingers went. They had also got on well finding numerous things in common including being members of the same gym where they had seen each other a couple of times.

The probing hands were on his stomach now. The masseur had rolled the lower towel down so his pubes were covered as he kneaded the softness of James's waist and the flat hard muscle covering his tummy. Sometimes the touch was light, almost caressing his skin and at others it was firm pushing in towards his abdominal wall. This made the delectable stirring move lower towards the heart of a man's sexuality, his balls. James felt the desire begin to flow from deep inside him and was sensing the blood flowing to his penis as that was swelling.

His eyes were tightly closed, but he could not help thinking about the guy who was, at least indirectly, the source, the conduit really, of these delicious feelings. Thirty five year old Jake was of mid-height, muscular and not at all camp. He had powerful thighs from long hours on the body toning machines and strong arms from pumping weights. He too was obsessed with his body, but in a very different way to his attractive and favourite client, Mister James Bancroft. Jake's obsession was about tone and form and shape and size of his muscles. He had an aquiline face and dark hair cut short, with the only condescension to femininity being the long lock that fell down his forehead. Although having few features that would mean he would be remembered by others, he was quite attractive, especially when he smiled for that made his eyes gleam. As usual he was wearing a white tee shirt and blue, track suit pants with an elasticated waistband. He was wearing the tee outside the waist of the trousers.

James felt a surge of dampness as some pre cum leaked from his ever growing cock. Hey wait a minute, what was going on here, he thought suddenly? Men had never been his thing. Why was he feeling like this? But then he reconciled he was feeling and thinking like this more and more frequently of late. Thank God his feelings were carefully concealed and there was no way the masseur would know of them. It was his own little secret. Or so he thought.

Unbeknown to James, the masseur liked men. He liked them very much, very much indeed. Possibly gay and certainly bi he had been with many. He loved the touch of them, the feel of their skin, the flows and curves and the shapes of their bodies. He admired their firmness and their musky male smell and he just simply adored their cocks and balls. And he knew their secret ways. Years of experience had taught him how to play a man's body like a fine and delicate instrument. Endless practice and execution had shown him how to feel its silent language of contraction and relaxation, smell its musky messages and see its subtle movements. The tensing of the muscles, the screwing of the eyes, the gripping of the fingers, the intake of breath, the flaring of the nostrils and the almost imperceptible, but to his noticeable writhing and gyrating of the pelvis.

For some years now he had used his position as a masseur to gain and give sexual pleasure. It never ceased to amaze him at how many 'seemingly straight' guys were up for some bi fun when it was offered and he had found the ways to offer it. He knew also that in his position as a member of the Institute of Massage Therapists he would be in trouble if any complained so he was careful. But that in itself added to the excitement and the pleasure.

He knew at once that he had flicked some switch in the delicious Mister B. That he had struck some receptive chord in the slightly aloof customer whom he had lusted after since they had first met. But he knew that he could do nothing, make no move or initiate any suggestion of intimacy. That was too dangerous. Sure he could send out physical hints, a brushing of his hand against a guy's cock, a softening of the massage, pressing himself against a client's arm and using some sexual innuendos or double entendres, but the customer had to respond. He had to give the signals, exactly as James was right now. Now he could capitalise on the discovery, use the signs and signals. He piled on the pressure, making the message more overtly sexual as for the very first time the tell-tale symptoms of arousal came back to him from the delicious prostrate form.

Unbeknown to James, Jake had seen him in the gym and pool. He had seen him in his tight gym clothes, his skimpy swim suit and with rather surreptitious looks as he turned over on the table at the previous massage, he had seen him naked. He had seen him by himself, with a male personal trainer, with a few other men and women and of course with him alone on the massage table. Not once had he seen any sign whatsoever of James's sexual interest or desire and certainly nothing at all of his sexual predilections being anything other than dead straight. Until now that is and momentarily he wondered why? He was under no illusions about his looks and body. He realised it would not have been his physical appearance that was causing whatever it was that was going on inside his client. It was some extraneous force he knew that, but didn't care and why should he?

This was one of the bonuses of the job. From time to time he got to indulge his desire for his own sex, occasionally even being slipped a ten, twenty or fifty pound note after. But he had to be careful; he could not afford to make mistakes. If he did and he made a move and was rejected he would not only lose his job, instantly, but also his license to practice. With some, a few really, there was no problem at all, they expected it and hence, the tips. The marketing consultant that James had told him he worked at had 'novice' written all over him. Nevertheless there was no room for misunderstanding. It was all deliciously dangerous. And that was the best way and just how he liked it.

He reached for more oil. Now for the chest he thought. He slowly eased the towel away from James's chest and laid it on the massage table alongside the gorgeously shaped body. God he is lovely, Jake thought his ambitions restored his lust starting to grow. He had seen James's body before of course, but seeing his nicely hairy chest with the pronounced, but not to a body builder level, muscles sent a jolt through him. The massage manual, though, did not condone the amount and type of massage that Jake often gave to unsuspecting clients like James and which he was intending to provide right now.

Feeling the towel being removed from his chest and knowing Jake was looking at his chest got to James. It was a seminal moment in each massage for his mind was now anticipating the hands on his breasts massaging them. He took a deep breath for momentarily it was the young life guard who was about to touch his boobs and not the older masseur. This near obsession with thinking about other guys both amazed and worried him.

Jake swallowed deeply as such intense sensations began to flicker in him when his hands roamed just below, just above, down the sides and then on and over of each of James's breasts. Slowly he moved each hand onto the small mounds. His heart pounding from both the slight risk he was taking and from the glorious feel of the soft, pliant flesh, his hands roamed over the hair covered mounds and brushed against the pouting, rock hard nipples. His eyes played quickly over James's glistening body, his nostrils scenting the familiar perfume of a male's sexual need. Jake knew that James needed relief. Every sinew in his body told him that, told him that this was a screwed up guy who needed satisfying, told him in fact that he wanted to be fucked. But would he be prepared to break through the shackles of convention, would he move outside the sexual comfort zone he had occupied for so long, yes would he give in and let the masseur service him as he so badly wanted to be serviced. That Jake knew was far from certain, although it was tantalisingly possible.

To James the fever pitch of excitement to which he was being raised was solely the result of his own mental processes; that fucking life guard he thought. He didn't know that inadvertently he had given the game away and was being manipulated as a result. As his body buzzed and vibrated with sexual desire, he remained in blissful ignorance of the masseur's intentions and was only aware of his own needs and illicit longings for gratification. Dancing in his mind's eye were the muscular quads and the pert cheeks of the masseur's bum whose hands had the freedom of his body. It seemed extraordinary that he had not noticed them last time or taken in the sturdy beauty of the strong arms, the full chest and sculptured thighs, the product of so much sweat and ecstasy. James could hardly believe that he was thinking how wonderful it would be to reach out and touch them and to slide his hand up the blue, track suit trouser covered legs or to slip them up the white tee shirt and onto Jakes chest. Secure in the supposed secrecy of his own thoughts he allowed his mind to wander along the unknown path of male with male sex. As his body vibrated to the wondrous touch of the masseur so James suddenly thought how wonderful it would be to feel Jake's chest against his own, to stroke him, hold his cock and yes he recognised to put that in his mouth. He had never sucked another guy, but had no doubt whatsoever that he would love it.

If only the sublime fingers would reach between his legs, cup his balls and hold his cock to rid him of that irritant of burgeoning arousal. But why stop at fingers his lewdly creative mind was thinking as the vision of the life guard was replaced with one of Jake. A tongue was what he needed, even demanded. A man's tongue to enter his mouth, to lick his chest and suck his cock. That was what he wanted and what he needed to straighten his soaring mind and bring him back to earth. Yes, he realised with a surge of horror and excitement he wanted Jake to give him a blow job. What the hell am I thinking? I don't do men; I never have so why am I thinking this now?

In the pool it had been the life guard who he had thought would bring the sexual relief that his robust work out had created. On the massage table, now naked apart from the towel draped across his lower stomach, he knew the answer. This was the safest. No commitments. No relationships. No ties. And the beauty of it was that he was alone in his own secure and private world of sexual release. No one else, not even the guy who was building his arousal knew what was going on for it was happening inside and not outside of him. But of course that was not the case. Although the towel was bunched around his waist and the folds pretty much hid his acute arousal, Jake had seen the signs and knew exactly what was going on.

Ok James thought as the sensations built up, it could be argued that it was depraved to entertain such wild fantasies and to use another unsuspecting human being in this way, but where was the harm? If it enabled James regain his sexual equilibrium and not take a male lover, particularly a young life guard with all the inherent risk to his marriage, then the end would certainly justify the means. But what on earth was he thinking? 'Take a male lover,' for fuck's sake what's going on in his mind?

Jake got the message. Monitoring everything that was going on both through his fingers and with his eyes he realised that his customer would admit nothing, wouldn't participate in overt lovemaking and certainly would not pay for being wanked, sucked or fucked. He wanted anonymous sex with everything ambiguous and with ultimate deniability. On the downside for Jake this meant little involvement from James, but the upside was that this extraordinary man clearly intended to cum and just as clearly wanted him to make him do just that. Jake decided that would be fin; he would groom him, take his time and get his payback in due course. But then, of course, he rationalised if James never wanted to play and if Jake was unable to 'turn' him so what? He would still have had the pleasure of holding his cock and jerking him off and how bad was that?

His momentary disappointment was replaced with the anticipation of the game that was to be played. The game where he was to give this adorable creature an orgasm, but neither would be able to admit to it, both on the table and afterwards. Jake knew that to do this he would have to sail close to the wind and, skirt the borders of acceptable stimulation. He would have to take risks and do things he rarely did, but he knew it would be worth it. To have this handsome mid-forties rich, married man writhing in orgasmic delight on his table from his hands was a challenge he would do anything to achieve. Deep down, though, Jake wondered what inhibitions might be cast aside, what prejudices may be abandoned in the headlong pursuit of the ultimate male pleasure, a full blown orgasm with cum all over his belly.

He had done similar before. He had massaged men who could not accept their 'sexuality lapse,' would not admit to the delights another man could provide and would not react in any way other than covering Jakes' hand with their cum. But to him that was ok, that was cool, it was alright. After all playing with, stroking, fondling and maybe also licking and sucking a gorgeous, stunningly hard cock and cupping a pair of full balls was what he was all about.

And so with all these thoughts whirring in his mind, the masseur leaned low over James Bancroft's body as he smoothed his oiled fingers over the alluring, slightly heaving chest again brushing against the very clearly fully erect nipples that looked as though they were about to burst. He sent his fingers up into James's warm, wet armpits, loving it, luxuriating in it and feeling his prey's breath on his cheek as his breathing quickened. Jake had to continually fight the desire to bend his face even further forward and take the nipples between his teeth and suck them hard and long, or even more tempting to kiss James' full, sensual lips. With his face just inches from the near perfect symmetry of James' chest he had to summon up levels of self-control he did not know he possessed to stop himself. Beneath his hand the masseur could feel the fluttering, pounding heart and the heaving lungs as James' whole body reacted to the stimulation. Get the timing right he had to tell himself. Not too fast, not too slow. He decided to take a chance, the situation warranted the risk. With both hands he gently cupped the breasts that were just inches from his face and pushed them together into one mound of delicious tit flesh.

Other than a flicker of James' tightly clenched eyes and a slight, but sharp intake of breath there was no reaction and certainly no objection. Jake squeezed the delicious mass of flesh more firmly. Again a movement of the head, but no objection, thankfully. Then, with infinite reverence he moved his hands up towards the tempting, tense nipples. Deftly he took each one between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed firmly and enquiringly yet insistently. He had gone so much further than both normal massage conventions stipulate and he had gone with James before. But his actions had been contained, just,0 and his customer had done nothing to say he didn't want what Jake was offering. But he was pushing the boundaries of conventionality to the extreme. Only a pretty way out massage would involve that sort of action, but if both participants ignored it there could be no clear cause for later complaint. After pinching James's delightful nipples quite hard, Jake instantly relinquished the red hot, bullet hard tips and his hands travelled swiftly downwards.