This is a print version of story Those Soapy Executive Massages for Men by lovearub from

Those Soapy Executive Massages for Men

In 1982, I moved to Tokyo to live and work for several years and began to learn as much Japanese language as I could, as well as try to navigate through Japanese behavior and lifestyle. At that point in my life, I had not been introduced to the pleasures of Japanese boys and/or men, so my journey began.

One evening after work, I navigated my way to the gay section of Shinjuku, one of the major neighborhoods of Tokyo. It was a jumble of tiny, messy streets, neon signs and mostly men who had come to make their furtive way through the highly closeted world of gay life and relationships of the day. I visited several bars which were packed with older white men and "sissy-like" younger Japanese men - similar to the "piss elegant" gay bars of West Hollywood and parts of New York of that time. You know the "drill": You sit at a bar and flirt with each other, eventually buying someone a drink and then talking and being charming for a long time. And maybe a blow job in a dark alley.

I was out for a fuck, so that was a waste of time. I hit the crowded back alleys and began to wander. As I walked - a bit "loaded" from several cocktails - I noticed a neon sign on the street that read: "Executive Massage for Men." Any sort of "Massage" or "Turkish Bath" parlor was a front for prostitution. But being in the gay part of town, I figured that there would be boy flesh available.

I walked up several flights of stairs to the 4th floor, where a door at the end of the hallway had "Executive Massage fo Men" on it. As I entered, there was a middle-aged man sitting behind a desk, looking like a typical salary man. Suit and tie, wearing glasses and looking slightly surprised at the sight of a "Gaijin" (foreigner.) I entered and in my splintered Japanese asked if I could get a massage ("massaji.") The clerk smiled, nodded and stood up, pointing to the price list on the wall and opening a book of photos for me.

The book contained photos of the various masseurs on call that evening. Most of them were a bit "girly" for me until I came upon a photo of a very strong-featured, buffed-in-a-tight-T-shirt young man. He had a buzz-cut as opposed to the others who had blonde streaks and "organized and sprayed" hair styles. In this display of "Come hither" looks and smiles from the others, he simply looked at the camera. Confident, handsome and sexy as all hell to me.
I pointed to his photo and the clerk nodded and asked for the fee "up front" which was about the equivalent of $60 at that time. I paid him and he took me down a narrow hall to a doorway. When he ushered me inside, he pointed out the hangers and hooks for my clothes in the small dressing room and pantomimed for me to undress and that the masseur would soon be there.

I stripped out of my suit and tie and put on the white cotton robe that hung on the wall. It was much too small for me and I once again felt like a "giant" in this land of smaller proportions. The door opened and the masseur entered, wrapped tightly in a cotton kimono ("Yukata".)In his early Twenties, he was about 5'6" or 7" to my 6' 2". Looking up into my eyes, he pantomimed "Would you like a drink?" and I asked for Scotch. Without blinking, he turned and exited as I checked out that very tight and muscled ass.

When he returned, I took a couple of sips of Scotch as he opened a glass door that led into the shower/massage area. It was entirely covered with white tiles and in one end, a plastic matt covered the floor. Turning to me, he opened his robe and slipped it off, gesturing for me to follow suit. In the mirrors on the walls I looked at his beautiful body: taut, tan, and buffed from obvious exercise and training and I assumed he must have been a gymnast. His gorgeous nipples were suck material and the ass was definitely created for wet dreams. The only body hair that he had was at his crotch, where a nice uncut cock bobbed in the nest of black hair and balls. As he peeled off my robe, I could sense that he was checking me out - particularly my cock. In those days, "Foreigners" were known to be hung. He looked into my eyes, again with confidence, not a smile or a reaction but I think I my "size" made him happy.

To make small talk, I introduced myself and he responded by pointing to his chest and saying "Aki" with a sharp nod of his head. As he hung our kimonos up, I noticed a hand-written sign on the wall: "For Back play, more money." I figured out that "Back" meant "Ass" and had already decided I was definitely going to "play" his incredibly hot boy butt.

He turned on a shower head and began pouring water on me, rubbing soap all over my body with a soft sponge. His hands were all over me and I immediately got a hard-on, which he never avoided, grabbing my boner with two soapy hands and sliding them up and down on it.

He next asked me to sit on a white plastic seat on the tile floor with a hole in the middle, which I actually had to "squat on." He knelt behind me and with two hands, throughly covered my front from head to toe. As he leaned into me, I could feel his breath and lips against the back of my neck. My dick jumped. He then began on my back and as he moved his hands down to my ass, I suddenly felt a soaped finger find my asshole and go all the way inside me. I made a small sound and he leaned against me, his now-hard cock pressing against the small of my back.

He quickly stood up, lifting me and began using the shower head to rinse us both, our hard cocks banging and dancing when we were face to face. We both stared into each other's eyes as they entangled. Not a word, but I wanted to kiss him so badly. When he had rinsed all of the soap off of us, he gestured for me to lie face down on the plastic matt. I followed his instructions and he boldly grabbed my legs and spread them wide, using his hands to tease the insides of my legs and balls.

And then the "Soapy" party began. Using a sponge, he began covering my back side in thick, slippery, sweet-smelling soap suds. He began at my feet, making certain that he caressed the inside of my legs and crotch, eventually encouraging me to lift my ass so he could grab my cock with both hands and cover it with soap. As he leaned forward to coat my back, I felt the tip of his dick slide back and forth between my legs...stopping for a second to place the head of his dick at my asshole. He then laid completely on top of me, his mouth nuzzling my neck and his breath hot in my ear. I clenched my butt muscles, grabbing at his cock.

I actually could have laid there for about a week but he determined that it was time for me to turn over onto my back. We looked onto each other's eyes and one of his fingers rubbed the pre-cum that was now oozing out over the head my cock.
And then the real fun began. He moved around my body on the plastic matt until he was kneeling at the top of my head, facing my feet. He covered his hands in soap suds and suddenly leaned all the way over me, his hands on my feet and his spread legs on either side my face.

As he began slowly (and very artfully) rubbing me from head to toe, my face would go in and out of the crack of his ass and then the tip of his cock would pass over my mouth. I could also feel his mouth and lips nibble and lick at my dick. I laid there and moaned, enjoying this beyond belief until I could not take it any more and grabbed his body, lifting my face to go up into his ass, spreading those muscled cheeks to get my tongue deep into the incredible hole. Aki made his first sound, a moan which increased as he moved his body to actually sit on my face. I could lift his ass up and down, plunging it onto my very stiff tongue. This must have been the first time a non-Japanese horn dog had gotten to his butthole. He writhed and moaned, eventually bending over to swallow my dick to the balls, sucking like a hungry puppy. We deep-throated each other, getting tastes of the pre-cum that was pumping out of our dicks.

The organized processs of the "Soapy Massage" was tossed to the winds as I slid his body and pulled his lips to mine and kissed him hard. My tongue plunged in and out of his mouth as my hands and fingers played that butthole. One finger, two fingers...eventually positioning him on his back with his legs in the air so that my face, tongue and fingers could slide in and out of his fuck hole. I could not hold back any longer and plunged my big American dick into his soapy cunt and he literally "jerked on it" as I plundered that incredible ass. Holding his legs over his head, I shoved my drooling dick in and out rapidly, looking down and watching his pleasure and examining the pink, soapy gape I was creating with my cock.

As I started to shoot thick, gooey streams of my baby batter into him, he began furiously wanking his bone-hard cock. We soul-kissed, our tongues duelling to get down each others' throats. He was mine. I owned him and at that minute he belonged to me. As the lust subsided, I put his cock into my mouth and pulled back the foreskin to taste his cum and suck him clean.

And that was the first of many incredible sex sessions with Aki over the years. At least once a month we would be together. I let him fuck me several times as he was still struggling with being a "Top" or a "Bottom." He threw a mean fuck, and it must have been fun for him to climb all over me. Eventually he chose to be the bottom, with my larger body all-encompassing him and my cock filling him and his needs. We played "Vanilla" and never got to some of the more exotic forms(cum swapping, water sports, felching, fisting, etc.) We were perfectly happy to be once-a-month lovers, being able to forget everything else and spending at least two hours worshipping each others' bodies.

We never talked about our personal lives but remained "lovers" until I was reassigned to the USA. I assume that he eventually did what most of the Japanese gay men did: got married, fathered two c***dren and then haunted the bathhouses, bars and streets.

When I returned to Japan several years later, I revisited the "Executive Massage" location. A sign on the front door said "No foreigners allowed." AIDS was now rampant around the world and we non-Japanese were assumed to be carriers. I had been there at the right place, right time, and in the right man. Wherever you are Aki, I still love you.

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