Late spring last year. We had a medical scare when one of boys we’d played with tested positive for an STD. Buddy nervous as hell. Didn’t want to play while test results and treatment were in flux. I was feeling in need of physical reassurance and suggested a massage. He agreed. I created an alter ego: Pancho, masseur. Set up conference room with towels on conference room table, spa music, candles. Set up myself with black sweats, flip flops and a black tank. Met him at door: “Nice to see you, Sir.” Went into conference room. He explains where he’d been feeling tension, strips and climbs on table face down, small towel covering his buttocks. Went to work on his upper body. Was a revelation. Until then, had only really done gals. Here was another species: Built, hairy, muscled, hard. Buddy said he’d make loud noises if it was going well. Started on his back. Slowly at first. Then more and deeper. Enjoying sensation of sliding on those muscles. He starts low rumble. Massage his neck, thick hairy. And his head. Never noticed he’s shaved but there is salt and pepper stubble. Really digging in. More rumbles. Move to arms. These are thick, ropy, heavy biceps. Down elbows to wrists and fingers - fat, hairy, calloused from years of weight training. Slowly start to slip into something like subspace. Adagio rhythm. Enjoying sensation of rubbing. Move down sides to legs. Tree trunk thick. Feeling of heft in my hands. Up curve to plump muscled ass. Following curve under towel, brushing his hole with my fingers. He groans and shifts, opening space for my hand to graze his hole more and reach for his chubbing dick. Slip towel aside and slide some oil into his crack and down his mushroom head, rubbing it in. More groans. Must be doing something right. Move back up to shoulders and pull off my tank top. “Ready to turn over, Sir.” He lifts his head and begins to massage my crotch. “Sir, you shouldn’t be doing that. I could lose my license.” He tells me that I should not have been touching his hole or his dick. “That was just an accident, Sir.” Am starting to get hard. He asks me if this - grabbing - is also an accident. “Please, Sir.” I moan. He lets go and turns over. Am looking down an expanse of muscled hairy fantasy man. Let out a sigh as I grab his shoulders. And he puts his hands back and starts kneading my ass through the sweats. Am working down his left side now, after sort of skipping his chest. Don’t know what to do there yet. These aren’t female beasts that am used to. Oil down to his pubic bone and brushing his dick with the back of my hairy hand. His dick jumps at the touch, as he reaches down and pulls my sweats down and starts fingering my ass. “Sir…” but the protest is futile. And I start stroking his dick and cupping his balls. Come around to his right side, so I can get a right-hand grip. Pants down now, he is grabbing my dick and balls through the jock pouch, then pulls the pouch down. We are now stroking each other. He is getting close. He sits up, towards me. Chest to chest. No kissing. But full on body contact. Each of us has one oiled hand rubbing dicks, balls, asses. The other holding each other tight. So tight that our oiled hands can barely find space to jack each other. Hard breathing into each other’s necks, we push each other on. He cums first, loud and rough. Pulls me off his dick. Too sensitive. As he brings me to my own climax. Spewing all over him. My own cum mixing with his. Spent. Bonded again after anxiety.
vaporwave
kianamaiart
areudirty
