This is a print version of story My First Masseur - Part Three/Conclusion by lovearub from

My First Masseur - Part Three/Conclusion

For the next three years, "Bob" was in my life on a bi-weekly basis.

As he rubbed and relaxed me, he began talking about his other clients, some of them male film and TV stars. Often, I would arrive early and the previous client would still be getting dressed, or the reverse - clients would arrive early. If I had not showered and dressed, he would make them wait outside.

He had one client, a French singer who was not very tall but [reportedly] had a dick that reached his knees. At least that is what Bob said, laughing about how he wished his dick could reach his knees. For one appointment I arrived a bit early as the French singer was getting dressed. Bob told me to wait outside and as the singer came out of the apartment, there was an awkward moment when he "cruised" me. Bob waved him off and brought me inside.

When I asked what that was all about he said, very matter-of-factly: "If that frog saw you naked, he would jump on you." I was flattered at first and then confused by Bob "protecting" me. The only sign of affection he would ever show.

We continued to sexually experiment with each other. Always and only after the the****utical aspects of the massage were over. It was when the wet towel went over my eyes that my cock immediately boned. The first time I took his fat, uncut cock into my mouth and down my throat, he moaned. His cock tasted so good...clean as a whistle but with just a hint of male musk. And I could suck on it and run my tongue around the inside of his ample foreskin forever. It also made me harder to swallow it jutting out of the side of his jockstrap.

The oral interplay began with me lying on my back and him turning my head to one side of the table and rubbing the head of his dick over my lips. As I would swallow him, he eventually began leaning over and taking my cock in his mouth. We never kissed or said much to each other. It was very much like pals, mates, guys just enjoying the cock. I loved his cum...thick, creamy and a large amount. At first, he spit my cum load out into a towel but eventually swallowed all of my boy batter.

He was the one who finally slid my body higher on the table, with my head hanging off the end and began fucking my face. At first slow and deep and then holding the sides of my face, slamming his crotch to the balls into me. The first time, I whipped off the wet towel to see his face. He was out of breath, wet, red-cheeked. Neither of us spoke although we knew we had broken an unspoken barrier.

As the weeks, months and years went by, we moved on to 69-ing each other with him lying beside me on the massage table. He finally "lost" the jockstrap, but I often asked him to keep the soccer sorts on so that I could grope around in them to find and pull out the fat head of his dick before I swallowed it. There was very little ass play. He would "diddle" me when I was on my stomach, but he never deeply probed - or put his face between my cheeks. And he never tried to fuck me. It was all about cock and mouth and mutual masturbation. I assume that "butt fucking" was the line he drew so that he could deny he was a homosexual. And he still talked about his "girlfriends," but never in a sexual way. I never told him about the nightly fuckings I was getting from my committed relationships, benefactors and one night stands. We were pals and teammates keeping a respectful distance.

When I got drafted and prepared to serve in the US Army for two years, I made my last appointment. As he oiled and rubbed me, I talked about going to Basic Training and he talked about his service time for the UK. There was a sense of "finality" in the air and, as our session would soon be ending with a release, I thought: "Fuck it...Go for it." He put the towel over my eyes and the bubbling sounds of the aquarium filled the room. I knew that he was down to his jockstrap and I suddenly said: "Bob, why don't you get ON the table and straddle my face?" There was moment of uncertainty and I continued. "If you are facing my feet, you can sit on my chest and really get some pressure on my legs. My thighs are sore from dance class." I was lying.

He sort of mumbled and fumbled climbing onto the table as I pulled the towel off my eyes. I could see his ass, framed by the jock: a great, muscular man butt. As he settled and leaned forward to run his hands down my legs, I spotted my target. I was going to get my tongue up his ass. I let him rub back and forth a couple of time, with him asking: "Is this good?" I only mumbled in ecstasy, which made him spead his legs wider and his man cunt beckoned. I replied, "No, THIS is good" and pulled his ass down onto my face, my hands spreading his cheeks and a stiff tongue plunging into that tight rectum. I spit loads and shoved it in with my tongue.

A sound came out of him I had never heard. It was part ecstasy and part agony. As my hands spread his butt cheeks further apart, I managed to get one finger (covered with spit) into the tip of his asshole. I quietly said: "Let me in there." He struggled and his torso fell foward, his ass now high in the air. I sat up and began pleasuring him with my finger and mouth, saying "Comon Bob, let it go. I want to eat you. When you feel my finger slide in, tighten your butt. Use those muscles. Grab that finger. Feel it slide in and out." I pulled at the jock strap on either side of that man pussy meal, tugging his ass to my face as he relaxed, moaned and began writhing.

As his spit-soaked cunt began to drip, I reached around with one hand and grabbed his [also] dripping cock. It was so fucking hard, I thought the skin around it was going to burst. He writhed on my finger and I managed to get a second finger up him, while I stroked his cock faster and faster. "Comon mate, shoot that cock, soak both of us," I found myself saying. As his moans became louder and faster, I knew the spooge was about to shoot, which made me cum. Hands free.

We both exploded all over each other and the massage table. As he shot his last blast, I shoved my thumb up his butt and licked the sweat on his back. And then, I fell back onto the massage table, pulling him with me. Since he was heavier than I was, I managed to turn him onto his side and we got into a spoon position, his cum all over my legs now rubbing against his ass.

Nothing happened for an eternity.

When we regained his breath and composure he popped off the table and went into the bathroom to get wet towels to wipe us both down. The total professional. Serving the client. He also managed to get his shorts back on. He asked if I wanted a shower, which I turned down as I wanted to drive home smelling him on me. He left the room as I dressed and returned with wet hair and pink cheeks.

He saw me to the door, shook my hand and we never saw each other again.

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