Feeling the pressure
A massage helps release the tension.
As instructed, he positioned himself with his face looking down through the cushioned hole in the table. He was naked - he'd slid the towel over his body, waiting for the masseur to re-enter the room. He felt like he might throw up.
It wasn't the first time that he'd had a massage. It wasn't the first time that he'd been massaged by a guy. But previously it had always been in some kind of hotel spa or a sports massage. This felt different. This was different.
Alex. The masseur's name was Alex. He couldn't really remember what he looked like - a beard, definitely. It was a modern apartment near Blackfriars. Alex had ushered him into the dedicated massage room, giving him some privacy to get undressed and get onto the table.
There was a gentle knock on the door - it opened before he had a chance to respond. He could feel Alex's presence, he could hear him making whatever final preparations were required before beginning a massage. It was about to start - Alex was about to massage him.
He'd be lying if he said that he was a total novice in terms of encounters with guys. He'd done a lot of lying over the years - mostly to himself.
Stephen Pearce was the first. They were in high school - probably about 14. A sleep-over. Nothing actually happened - Stephen had dared him to a tongue kiss but he'd been too gutless to go through with it.
There'd been that guy in the showers at the swimming pool at Melbourne university. They'd made eye contact. It had been the longest shower he'd ever taken. The guy followed as he left the locker-room but he ran for his tram, never looking back.
He knew what he'd been running from. He knew that the walls that he'd built himself could easily come tumbling down if he ever gave into temptation - he’d be risking his marriage, his kids, his family, his work. He wasn't just protecting himself, he was protecting his entire world.
His body involuntarily jumped as Alex's oiled-up hands first made contact with his feet - snapping him back to the present moment and the predicament he'd placed himself in.
He laughed it off as having ticklish feet - confirming that the pressure was fine. His feet weren't ticklish - it was the shock of having a man's hands on his body, it was the thrill of being touched by man.
Alex's hands began to slide and swirl up and down his legs - first the left, then the right. The pressure was firm, masculine. There wasn't any talking - Alex let his hands do the talking, he communicated through touch. It was a relief not to have to try and form any coherent sentences.
It was always on a business trip that his mind began to wander. A few days in a hotel - away from the constraints of his everyday life, his usual routines.
When he was by himself in a hotel room, he inevitably found himself watching porn. His therapist suggested that maybe he had a porn addiction, but he hadn't told his therapist everything - he'd been keeping secrets from his therapist. He lied as easily as breathing.
He knew that the porn wasn't the problem, it was the type of porn that he watched which is what scared him. It scared him while simultaneously exciting him. Perhaps that's what he was addicted to - the excitement of unleashing his fantasies, knowing that they were taking him places he was never brave enough to go in real life.
Alex's hands swooped up higher, focusing on his hamstrings. The towel was repositioned - it felt like his butt must be very visible as Alex expertly kneaded his muscles.
He wondered if Alex was looking at his butt. He wondered if Alex was turned on by his butt. Objectively, he knew that he was in pretty good shape. Of all the butts that Alex had massaged over the years, how would his compare?
The towel was removed. He'd never felt so exposed - face-down on a massage table, his body spread out, his arms by his sides.
He felt Alex's body brush against his arm. Was that his leg or his arm or something else? Was Alex naked? In his bio on RentMasseur, Alex had said that he was happy to be naked if that was what the client was comfortable with, but it wasn't something that had really been discussed during the booking process. Maybe Alex had assumed that he had wanted a naked massage? How had he known?
The massage oil was dripping down between his ass cheeks as Alex's hands glided up and down his back and across his glutes - the tips of Alex's fingers occasionally making contact with his balls or sliding into his butt-crack.
He could feel his anxiety spiralling. How far was this going to go? Maybe he should stop it now, before it went any further?
Alex’s light touches with his fingertips reminded him of being bathed by his uncle. Nothing ever really happened - nothing that he could really remember - but Alex was triggering some kind of core memory of being touched inappropriately. It terrified him. It thrilled him.
The straining erection trapped beneath him was becoming unbearably uncomfortable.
He quickly reached beneath himself to reposition his hard cock. Unthinkingly, he'd pushed the shaft back between his legs.
As Alex's fingertips began to make contact with his cock-head, he realised that Alex probably thought that he'd done that on purpose, inviting the touch, inviting the attention. In an almost subconscious move, he spread his legs, giving Alex greater access, inviting more touch and attention.
Alex's cock brushed against the palm of his hand. It was definitely Alex's cock - there was no mistaking it. He tentatively closed his fingers around Alex's cock-shaft - there was no protest or objection, Alex didn't move away.
This was the first time that he'd held another man's cock. He'd touched Stephen Pearce's, but that had been a dare. Alex's cock felt warm - he was surprised by how warm it felt. Girthy. It was girthy and warm. He wondered what it would feel like in his mouth, sliding across his tongue.
The invitation to turn over onto his back took him by surprise - he'd been lost in the moment, the sensations, the pleasure his body was feeling.
He blushed with embarrassment as the evidence of his arousal was revealed to Alex. His cheeks burned with shame as he could no longer deny what his body was feeling.
Locking eyes with him, Alex wrapped a hand around his straining erection - the pre-cum flowing uncontrollably. There was no judgement in Alex's gaze, it could perhaps have been kindness.
Alex's strokes were firm and confident - sliding his generous foreskin backwards and forwards, well-lubricated by the combination of massage oil and pre-cum.
He closed his eyes. It was easier not to think about what he was doing if he didn't have his eyes bearing witness. A jolt of pleasure rippled through his body as Alex tweaked one of his nipples.
The cum began to boil up inside him. He was beyond the point of self-control. He grunted and moaned as Alex's stroking pushed him over the edge and his load erupted.
“Everything okay?” asked Alex.
“Totally…” he lied. “All good.”
“I found your body a bit hard to read…” shrugged Alex. “Everything seemed fairly tense?”
“Just stress with work, I guess…” mumbled Alex.
“You probably need to book more massages…” winked Alex.
“Yeah…” he nodded, absent-mindedly twisting the ring on his finger. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
He lied as easily as breathing.
This story was written as part of a Naked Men Talking Writing Workshop, in response to the prompt "Discovering". Copyright remains with the author - this story cannot be republished or distributed without the consent of the author.
Gareth Johnson