Braden was on his way over to his friend Nathan's house.
He had pulled a muscle over the previous weekend during a game of intramural summer soccer at the local university and ever since his lower back had been driving him crazy. He hadn't slept well, and his mobility had gone to shit.
Nathan and Braden had grown up together and were longtime friends. They attended the college together now and even played on the same team. As it so happened, Nathan's father was an accomplished sports massage therapist and after Braden had complained to his friend over text that the pain in his lower back simply wasn't going away and was even getting worse, Nathan had suggested that he could ask his dad to take a look at him.
After hearing about Braden's predicament and his want to avoid large medical or chiropractic costs, Nathan's father had gladly agreed to help.
Braden had never worked with a sports masseuse before but he was desperate for any sort of help he could get at that point.
When he arrived at his friend's house that Saturday afternoon, he hobbled up the steps of the large two-story craftsman and rang the doorbell.
The door was opened by Nathan's father, Linus Coleman.
"Oh, hey Braden, come on in. Nathan said you'd be coming by today so we could take a look at your back." He welcomed him into the house.
Nathan's Dad was a fairly good-looking guy in his late 40's. He had sort of a Pierce Brosnan-vibe to him (though without the accent of course). Braden knew him well as he'd coached a couple of their AYSO teams while growing up and the families had even gone on various camping trips together over the years to nearby Yosemite and Lake Tahoe.
"Hey Mr. Coleman, is Nathan not here?" Braden had assumed his friend would be home.
"No, unfortunately he had to head downtown with his mom for some last minute errands for the big BBQ tomorrow."
The Coleman family BBQ was famous on a local level. Linus Coleman had the most coveted secret seasoning in the county and his sausages and patties were the types of proprietary blends that made even the town butchers eternally jealous.
Every year at this time the well-used backyard was done up for the Fourth of July and a BBQ was enjoyed as a precursor to the night's fireworks. They were easily visible from the nearby park and school which were located just down a nearby hill, both of which held some of the better shows in the area. This gave the Coleman backyard a particular advantage in fireworks viewing, and thus the annual BBQ had grown in its lore over the years.
Braden followed him back through a house busy with the beginning stirrings of party setup strewn all around.
Linus kept a home work-office in the large craftsman that looked out onto a backyard sentried with two large oak trees and framed by a marvelous weeping willow. Red, white, and blue lanterns were strung across the lawn and a number of tables and chairs had already been set up around the pool and spa and fire-pit. There was Ping-Pong and Corn-Hole and the bar area which was typically where the Coleman's would set up a number of killer kegs from some of the local breweries in the area.
As Braden followed his friend's father into the room he cringed a little as the same shooting pain that had been torturing him those past few days jolted back through him with a white-hot tinge—like a butter knife against a cavity.
Linus noticed the younger man's leg seizing as he leaned against the massage bed that flanked the window.
"So...Nathan told me you pulled a muscle pretty badly during your game, yeah? Why don't you take a seat," Linus told him.
Braden hopped up onto the brown-leathered massage table as his body surged with the constantly dull pains that shot out in volts along his back and through his ass and legs.
As he looked around the room it was impossible not to be impressed with Mr. Coleman's easily identifiable résumé. The walls were lined with pictures he'd taken with various pro athletes he'd treated over the years.
Linus had worked as a permanent staff member with three different pro sports teams and had also worked extensively with the nearby colleges all while beginning his own private practice. He'd also written a fairly successful book on sports injuries and had developed a number of successful innovations in the treatments of various muscle and body issues over the years.
His office was colorfully brown if that made any sense. Well appointed but not dark or boring. Soft wood and earthen tones caught lighter shades of grain on his desk and bookshelves as the light poured in from two huge bay windows that looked out onto the back and side of the family yard.
The massage table itself wasn't some fold-up cheapie, but an Osage adjustable master's series that was fitted to adjust electronically in a jiffy. It could tilt this way and that depending on whatever part of the body needed attention and it was fitted with luxurious microfibers and adjustable head, arm, and even foot rests if needed.
Braden had amazing memories of this massage table, as it was where he'd received his first mind-altering blowjob while in high school. Nathan's parents had gone away one weekend for a game that he was working, and so the two 18-year-old high school seniors had decided to throw an epic end-of-the-year bash to remember. As the night had grown late and buzzy, Braden had made quality progress with the captain of the girls varsity tennis team, who proceeded to drag him through the house until they could find an unused room, which just so happened to be the at-home office of his friend's father—the very office where he now stood.
"So, what hurts exactly? Let's get you figured out," Linus said, with a comfort that preceded his long tenure in this field of work.
"Well I twisted my body awkwardly jumping for a header and my lower back has this like, shooting pain that's been making my left side go stiff all through my leg and butt. I think I pulled something pretty badly."
"Do you mind taking your pants and shirt off?" Linus asked as he pulled a chair up next to the table. Braden easily shed his shirt and pants leaving only a compact pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs.
His body was that of a sculpted, young athlete. He wasn't as muscular as some of the professional clients that Linus saw, but he was in very good shape and it was clear that his continued sports activities had built him into a healthy young man. The light golden-brown hair of his legs and arms matched that of his untamed mop. The girls loved the mop. He was controlled chaos.
"Now, hop up here on the table and lie on your stomach and we'll try to figure out if you have any trigger points that might be causing all this," Linus said as Braden groaned a little with each movement.
"Okay, so just let me know when it hurts, okay?" Linus's hands traced cartographic lines across the various muscles and pressure points where problems often occurred. For Braden, he quickly identified two areas that seemed to be linked in one perfect storm of pain.
