Erotic Fiction: The massage workshop
A story from the Bad Boys' Book Club collection.
It had seemed like a good idea.
A massage workshop, for naked men. Naked men learning how to massage each other.
"This is not a sex party..." read the pre-event instructions. "This is social naturism."
Kellen had always enjoyed receiving massages, and lately he'd been getting into meeting up with guys for a naked massage exchange. It wasn't that he'd been getting negative reviews, but he was acutely aware that he was just making it up as he went along, so a naked massage workshop seemed the ideal way to improve his skills.
The problem was that Kellen hadn't counted on the other attendees being so totally fuckable.
As well as himself, there were seven other guys, plus the instructor. It was a diverse group - a range of ages and body-types - but each of them had the kind of open sexual energy that Kellen really connected with.
"This is not a sex party..." Kellen repeated in his head as they paired up to practice the first technique that had been demonstrated.
Perhaps Kellen was just feeling particularly horny, or maybe it was because he'd come to associate massage oil with sexual encounters, but as soon as his demonstration partner began gliding his hands across Kellen's back, Kellen's cock chubbed up uncomfortably beneath him.
Kellen tried to distract himself by making lists of unsexy things:
- Boiled cabbage.
- Rail replacement bus.
- Tax return.
Regardless of what he tried focusing on to distract himself, Kellen's stubborn semi continued to make its presence felt.
Then it was his turn to practice the first basic technique on his demonstration partner. Kellen concentrated on following the sequence of moves - he was conscious that the instructor was watching him closely. The instructor's disapproving glare was a sufficient boner-killer that Kellen was able to focus on the task at hand.
"We'll now move onto the next technique..." announced the instructor - a hairy Italian guy with a wiry body and strong hands.
After the demonstration, it was time to change partners.
"Fuck me..." muttered Kellen to himself, as he was paired with his new partner.
The new guy was Brazilian. He had an accent that made every word feel like a seduction.
"This is not a sex party..." Kellen repeated to himself, volunteering to go first on the table - keen to lie face down and conceal his imminent erection.
Again, he tried making lists of unsexy things.
- Political speeches.
- Geraniums.
- Soup.
It wasn't working. He continued to try and list turn-offs but even visualising the most unsexy things were having little impact on the arousal he was feeling as the Brazilian's oiled-up hands glided back and forth across his body.
- Traffic congestion.
- Taking the bins out.
- Genocide.
Nothing was helping. The Brazilian had applied so much oil that Kellen could feel it begin to ooze down into his ass crack.
- Jogging.
- Katy Perry.
- Shark attacks.
- Movies about shark attacks.
"What was that?" said the Brazilian, breaking into Kellen's concentration - his breath hot on Kellen's ear.
"Huh?" said Kellen, opening his eyes to look at the sexy fucker who was massaging him.
"I thought you said something about a shark attack?" smiled the Brazilian.
Kellen's eyes were transfixed on the man's cock. It was huge. It was hard. The generous foreskin glistening with droplets of pre-cum.
"Yeah, sorry..." shrugged the Brazilian, realising where Kellen's gaze was fixed. "I always get really turned-on when I'm massaging a guy - especially one that's as sexy as you. Your ass is big and beefy - I just want to bury my face in there! Sorry, that's probably too much information."
"Fuck me..." muttered Kellen.
"Save the flirting until after the workshop..." growled the instructor, appearing beside their massage table. "This is not a sex party."
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