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Jack's Massage
Jack now knew for certain that it had been a
mistake to let himself be talked into playing
that veterans’ rugby match the previous
afternoon. Every muscle in his body ached and
his shoulders and thighs were stiff and tight.
Fitness hadn’t been a problem, he kept himself
in shape, but his 38-year old body just wasn’t
up to the physical impact of the game he used to
play every week, any more.
Several beers after the game had helped to
anaesthetise his aches the previous evening, and
he had slept soundly enough, helped by a
comfortable, if rather routine, bonk with the
wife. Their sex life was pleasant enough, Jack
thought, but he was a man with a preference for
the occasional thrill; Harriet, on the other
hand, enjoyed straightforward sex, but would
never contemplate even a bit of porn to spice
matters up. He had bought her one of those
expensive new vibrators several months earlier,
but it had hardly been used. She had also found
one of his R18 DVDs hidden in his study a few
months earlier and had been furious at the
thought that he might have the occasional wank
when he should be screwing her in the missionary
position.
As Jack walked stiffly up the road on the way to
his office, he felt as though every bump and
tackle had left a deep bruise. That might have
been a good use for the vibrator, he thought
ruefully, surely it could help to sooth sore
muscles. It was a nuisance having to work on
Sunday afternoon, but it would make the
following week manageable – without shifting
some of his load today, he’d never catch up with
himself next week.
His usual coffee shop was closed – it was
Sunday, after all, so Jack took a turn away from
his normal route to work, hoping that the nearby
Starbucks might be open. A few yards on, a sign
caught his eye – “Thai Sauna and Massage” open 7
days, noon - midnight. Knocking shops seem to be
opening all over town, he thought, but then
paused. If this was in fact a place which
offered a genuine massage, one of those should
certainly help to ease his aches and pains. He’d
heard that most massage parlours in London were
nothing better than cheap brothels, but he’d
also read about genuine Thai massage and the
thought of a pair of skilled hands working on
his aching muscles was very tempting.
Jack stepped inside and the receptionist looked
up from her book – Thai script, Jack noticed,
surely a good sign. “Do I need an appointment
for a massage?”, he asked.
With a smile, the dark-haired girl asked him how
long he would like for his massage and as Jack
scanned the price sheet, he settled on an hour
for £60. Seems quite steep, he thought to
himself, but then this looks quite a smart
place. He paid in cash, gave his first name to
the girl who noted it down in an appointments
book, and followed her down a corridor. One of
the doors was open and inside was a sitting room
with three or four oriental girls watching TV;
two of them looked up and smiled as he walked
past. There was a faint reek of garlic and
ginger, which contested with the pervasive scent
of air-freshener. The receptionist handed Jack a
towel from a pile on a table, and told him to
shower in the changing room and then come back
out. Jack went into the locker room, which again
seemed clean and smart, undressed, putting his
clothes and briefcase into the locker, and then
stepped into the shower.
The water was hot and as the shower streamed
strongly over his shoulders, Jack felt the
muscles in his neck and shoulders begin to
relax. As he soaped himself, his cock and balls
hung heavily and Jack’s thoughts turned again to
what awaited him – was this just a legitimate
massage parlour, or would he be offered more
than he really came for?
It was quite a tempting thought, he’d never
screwed an oriental girl, but he’d need to use a
condom – surely if they offered him sex, they’d
have a supply? Jack just didn’t know, but his
cock began to thicken in expectation. What might
it cost? He had been to the cashpoint that
morning, so he had some cash in his wallet – but
then he remembered the money he’d already paid –
would what he had left be enough? How much would
he need for the rest of the day, in fact until
tomorrow because his bank wouldn’t let him draw
money twice in a day? Jack’s mind raced through
trivia, then the thought of Harriet at home with
their two children passed came into his head and
he suddenly felt guilty. What if she phoned him
on his office direct line or on his mobile while
he was here – where could say he had been?
Jack washed himself carefully, making sure that
his long, soft foreskin and the heavy dome of
his penis were immaculately fresh. He finished
his shower, towelled off and as he stepped out
of the cubicle with the towel slung raffishly
over his shoulder, caught sight of himself in
the mirror at the end of the room. Not too bad
for nearly 40, he smiled to himself as he
wrapped the towel around his waist and went back
into the corridor.
There a pretty, dark girl with unmistakably Thai
cheekbones and delicate features was waiting for
him, dressed in what looked like a black
tracksuit. She showed him into a small, dark
room with a massage table in the centre, and
asked him to lie down, face down. The table was
covered in a fresh sheet of soft paper and at
one end the paper had been torn over a circular
hole in the table, clearly meant for his face.
Jack climbed up, lying down so that his head
rested over the space allowing him to lie flat,
but also to breathe. It felt comfortable enough,
he thought. The girl reached to untuck his towel
and for a moment his naked backside was exposed;
Jack’s pulse quickened for a moment as he
wondered whether this was to be a naked
experience, but then the girl laid a fresh towel
across his middle.
“You like massage hard, or medium?” she asked.
Jack thought for a moment and replied that he
didn’t want it too hard, thank you.
“OK I use oil?”
“Yes,” Jack said, “that’s great” and immediately
wondered whether he would be able to get the oil
off before he got into bed with Harriet – he
always slept naked. These thoughts passed as the
masseuse started on the back of his left calf,
the fresh oil slightly cold to the touch, but
warming up quickly as she worked.
She was stronger than she looked, Jack thought,
as he started to relax. His earlier thoughts
about whether he’d be offered
extreme sex receded, as the girl carried on
working on his calf with professional skill.
Maybe it’s for the best, he thought, it’ll
certainly save some money and I’ll be able to
face Harriet tonight with no problems.
His masseuse worked up to his thighs, and Jack’s
tight and sore hamstrings began to ease as she
worked her fingers deeper and deeper. As her
hands worked up and down, her long fingers ran
smoothly up and back and, just occasionally,
came up to reach the soft skin on the inside of
his thigh, undoubtedly one of Jack’s erogenous
zones and once again, he felt his cock thicken.
As the towel was laid loosely across his
buttocks, his cock and balls were resting barely
on the paper covering the table and he wondered
just how much the masseuse could see.
With a shrug, Jack decided that she probably
worked on several clients a day; he didn’t feel
that he had too much to worry about in the size
department, and once again he relaxed under the
masseuse’s skilled touch.
On one particularly long stroke, the very tip of
one of the girl’s fingers just touched one of
his balls and Jack started. Surely that was an
accident? Quite definitely, the next strokes
were just a fraction shorter and Jack settled
once again, but could not resist just slightly
opening his legs a little wider as he did so.
The girl moved round the table and began work on
his other leg. Jack tried to work out how long
he had been in the room, it felt like a long
time, but he guessed that she knew that he had
paid for an hour. The routine was identical and
once again, as she worked on the back of his
thigh, occasionally her fingers strayed onto his
inner thigh and twice, this time, she just
touched his balls.
Jack wasn’t sure how to react to this, he
certainly felt his cock stiffening beneath him,
but it was trapped beneath his left thigh; he
felt it might be too blatant to lift up his bum
to allow his cock to stand up beneath his
stomach and, in any event, the masseuse hardly
gave him any opportunity to move as she worked.
He was sure that she must be getting quite a
view of his balls as she worked; he also thought
that she had made sure that the towel lying
loosely across his buttocks was placed high
enough to permit her to reach between his
buttocks.
Just as Jack was wondering whether she had
locked the door as they came in (he didn’t
remember noticing that she had, but surely they
could do anything untoward while any of the
others could walk in?), the girl walked round to
the head of the table and began work on his
shoulders. Any sexy thoughts in Jack’s mind
vanished as she began to twist and tweak every
sore muscle across his shoulders and the back of
his neck; it was quite painful, but as she moved
on, Jack felt that the overall effect was
probably an improvement on his previous stiff
and sore state.
Jack became increasingly aware that this young
girl’s crotch was very close indeed to the top
of his head, but he dared not lift his face from
the hole in the table to sneak a view. He had
also forgotten, or hadn’t noticed, whether she
had any tits to speak of under the baggy black
top. His excited thoughts ran on to what would
happen when she began to work on his front – how
would his head fit into the hole in the table?
If she stood at the top of the table as she
worked, what sort of view would he get of her
tits then as he lay on his back?
He imagined that Thai girls probably had small
boobs, but with large protuberant dark nipples –
where did he get those ideas from? It was a
while since he’d seen an Asian porn DVD and he
hadn’t dared keep any in the house since Harriet
found the last one.
The masseuse returned to the foot and the table,
and Jack then realised that she was taking her
slippers off. Why? Very carefully, she stepped
up onto the table, placed one bare foot on the
back of his thigh and then transferred her
weight gently onto his hamstring. Suddenly, Jack
remembered that he’d heard once that sometimes
these Thai massages involve walking on your back
– he hadn’t believed it then, but he was about
to find out. Sure enough, the girl, delicately
but very firmly, proceeded to probe every muscle
in his thighs, followed by every vertebrae in
his back, with her bare feet. Jack was too busy
dealing with the painful anticipation of where
she might stand next, which sore muscle was
about to get the next treatment to think about
anything else and he felt his cock shrink back
to the state he inelegantly thought of as
flaccid.
To Jack’s relief, the girl finally stood down
from the table, replaced her slippers and moved
to the middle of the table. To his confusion
though, she then moved the towel around his
middle up to his lower back, completely exposing
his buttocks, and began to vigorously massage
each of his cheeks. Once again, her fingers
occasionally slipped down between his legs and
this time she avoided touching his balls
altogether, but ran her fingers deep into the
fleshy cleft where his thighs joined his
buttocks. Jack’s dick thickened once more and he
longed to lift up his bum to free his cock from
beneath his thigh, but the masseuse’s strong
hands made this impossible.
Jack also wasn’t sure whether his reaction was
usual – presumably the regular massage customers
could control themselves better. He had read
about the oriental feeling of “loss of face”,
and Jack was quite sure that getting a hard-on
during a massage would certainly be to lose
face, and he really didn’t want to risk causing
offence.
“Please turn over.”
Jack started once more as the girl’s voice broke
into his thoughts. As he raised his face, he
realised that the girl was holding the towel up
as a screen in front of her, and he made sure
that he turned over so that his back was towards
her as he rolled onto his back. She laid the
towel across his middle and then got another
towel to place under his head. Released from its
trap beneath Jack’s body, his cock lay fatly on
his tummy, and as Jack relaxed, it began to
thicken and swell. Jack stole a glance downwards
to see how obvious his erection might be under
the towel; if the girl looked, she couldn’t
possibly avoid realising how turned on he was.
However, she was facing the other way as she
began to massage his lower right leg.
Jack looked up and noticed a stainless steel bar
suspended from the ceiling, and he realised how
the masseuse had been able to keep her balance
while walking on his back. As she worked on his
feet, he tried to cast his preoccupation with
the sexual possibilities of the situation from
his mind; she had really done nothing to him
that was not entirely professional and it was
pretty shameful that he was lying there with a
hard-on. His cock, however, twitched once again
and Jack was again sure that the girl must have
realised.
This time when she worked on his thighs from the
front, her fingers did not stray towards his
tackle, but Jack could not resist spreading his
legs a little as she worked. There was not a
flicker of reaction to his suggestivity and
shortly afterwards, the girl moved up to the
head of the table to work on his arms and
shoulders. His hopes that he might get a view of
her tits from below were dashed – the baggy top
was firmly tucked in at the waist. Jack also
realised that his hour must be almost up.
As Jack was reaching the conclusion that this
was an entirely legitimate massage parlour, but
one that was worth every penny of the admission
money, the girl moved to his right hand side and
began to massage his stomach.
“You like hand relief?” she whispered.
“Sorry?” stammered Jack, astonished at this turn
of events. The girl slid her right hand under
the towel and rested it unmistakably on his
dick.
“Hand job, you like hand job?”
“Of course,” smiled Jack, “I like very much!”
Looking back, Jack realised that this was the
moment when he should have asked two further
questions: how much, and perhaps, do you do
anything else?
“OK, no problem,” she continued, and moved the
towel up and away from his genitals, resting on
his stomach. “Very nice cock, nice size”,
murmured the girl, to Jack’s satisfaction, which
was tempered a little shortly afterwards when
she continued “not too big...”
Jack muttered his thanks for the compliment, but
then sighed deeply as the girl began to caress
his cock and balls. His dick reared again, and
Jack felt as though that it had reached a size
not seen for a few years.
The girl poured a little oil onto her hands and
this time carefully rubbed her hands together to
make sure that the oil was warmed fully before
she returned to her caresses. She began a
two-handed corkscrew movement, working his
foreskin up and down the domed head of his
engorged dick and Jack began to realise that
this was an expert; he also realised at the same
moment that, although he would like this to last
for some time, at this rate he would come very
soon.
“Gently,” he whispered – and wondered at the
same time whether the door was locked, and how
much the girls down the corridor might be able
to hear; bizarrely, he was grateful at that
moment for the TV.
The girl removed her right hand and continued to
stroke his cock with her left, thumb on top and
two fingers beneath. Jack felt a little more in
control, as her right hand began to cup and
stroke his balls, which had drawn up tight to
his body. Once again, she added a little more
oil to her hands and quickened her movement up
and down his cock, as the index finger of her
right hand probed beneath his sack. Jack
realised that he was approaching his point of no
return and began to moan in time with the
strokes; as the oily tip of her index finger
probed into his arse, he exploded into spasm
after spasm of orgasm, spitting come from the
head of his dick into the strategically-placed
towel. Both hands returned to their work on his
cock, as he continued to thrust with the throes
of his orgasm, milking the last drops of come;
she also used her fingernails gently on the
wrinkled skin of his balls.
Jack finally reached the end of his orgasm and
rested back on the massage table, totally
relaxed. At this point, he must have actually
fallen asleep for a few moments, because when he
came too, the girl had evidently washed her
hands and was now very gently massaging his
scalp with the tips of her fingers. Jack thought
he had never been so peaceful.
A few moments later, she whispered “OK, you get
dressed now” and slipped quietly out of the
room.
Jack showered carefully to remove as much oil as
possible and put a couple of notes in his
trouser pocket for a tip. When he passed the TV
room, however, all the girls were gripped again
by the show; he asked the receptionist whether
he should tip his masseuse.
“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” said the girl
“come again soon.”
Oh yes, thought Jack, I think I most certainly
will.
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