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My back had been killing me for some time. Actually, everything had been killing me for some time. With all the crazy hours I’d been working, I hadn’t exercised in months, and I was feeling it all over. I’d been waking up tight as a knot, and each day of physical inactivity was only making things worse.
The fact that my stress level was off the charts wasn’t helping either. My company was going through a transition, which had effectively doubled everyone’s workload. Worst of all, my wife was in the middle of a career change, and with her crazy new schedule, we were only seeing each other a few hours a day at best.
She’d been suggesting that I schedule a massage with her friend Bryn for some time, saying that it would do me a world of good. It sounded like a good idea, but I was a bit hesitant. I’d hurt my neck a few years back, and I was kind of afraid of someone handling it too roughly. But my wife kept insisting that her friend was really good, (she’d given my wife a few massages in the short time they’d been friends), so I finally relented, and I was now pulling up to Bryn’s house for an hour-long session.
Bryn greeted me at the door with a smile. (According to my wife, we’d met Bryn and her husband before, at a party last year, but I sure couldn’t remember doing so). She was fairly tall, with sandy brown hair and a dark complexion I couldn’t quite place; not Greek, not Italian, I’d have guessed mixed Asian of some sort. She wore a bulky, expensive looking, chestnut-colored tracksuit and a pair of flip-flops.
I stuck out my hand, “Hi, I’m-“
She cut me off, laughing. “I know who you are? Don’t you remember we met at Dave’s party last year?”
I didn’t, but I thought it would be rude to say that, so I just went with it. “Oh yeah, now I remember!”
She laughed. “Come on inside. The spa is around the back.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know-“
“No, it’s ok. It has it’s own entrance around the side, but we can just go through the basement.” She led me inside, and we walked through her kitchen and downstairs into her basement. From there it was just a few steps to a door which she opened to reveal a home spa, with darkly painted walls, candles, and in the center of the room, a massage table.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked. “Coffee? Tea? Water?”
“No, I’m fine.” I answered.
She gestured to a small love seat against the back wall. “Ok, well, then, why don’t we have a quick chat about what we’re going to do today, and then we’ll get started. Sound good?”
“Sure.” I agreed, and took a seat. She sat down next to me, and spoke right at me, giving me a good look at her features. She was actually very pretty; with deep, intense eyes, a button nose, and a full set of dark pink lips.
“So, Susan tells me you’ve never had a massage before?”
“Any particular reason you haven’t?”
“Um, not really, just never have. I did hurt my neck a few years back, that’s probably one reason I haven’t. I’ve been worried about someone being too rough with it.”
“I’ll make sure to be careful when I work on it, then. Any other reasons?”
“Uh, no, not really-“
“It’s just that some guys are little uncomfortable about getting worked on.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Mostly out of embarrassment. A massage involves a lot of touching, obviously, which most guys aren’t used to. Then there’s the fact that you’re more or less naked in front of a total stranger. A lot of guys have a hard time relaxing because of that, and if you’re not relaxed during your massage, you’re not going to enjoy it.”
None of what she was saying had occurred to me before she mentioned it, but now that she had mentioned it, I guess I did start to feel a bit anxious. I tried to laugh it off. “I think I’ll be all right.”
She smiled. “You sure?”
“Yeah. What’s the big deal, right?”
“Right! There’s really no reason to be embarrassed, but a lot of guys-” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Like when your back hurts. Most of the time, it’s not your back that’s the source of the problem, but your legs and butt. So, in order to get the kinks out, those muscles need to get worked on.”
“Well, that sounds ok.” I said.
“Doesn’t it? But I can’t tell you how many guys, once I tell them I’ll need to work on their butt, which usually means I have to see it…they get all weirded out.”
I guess I could see why that would freak out some guys, although I didn’t see what the big deal was. “Who cares? Everyone has one, right? You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all!”
“Right!” she agreed.
“Got to warn you, though, mine’s not a pretty site!”
We laughed again.
“So, you’re ok with that, right? I just want to make sure.”
“Yeah. No big deal.”
” All right, then why don’t we get started? Go ahead and strip down, lie on the table face down, with your head in the rest, and pull the towel over your butt.”
“Even though you’re going to see it later, right?” I joked.
“Right!” she laughed. “Go ahead and get set, and bahis firmaları I’ll be right back.”
She walked out, closing the door behind her. I quickly undressed, lay on the table, and pulled the towel over myself. I was squirming around a bit, getting my face adjusted properly in the headrest, when I heard her knock on the door.
“All set?” she asked.
“All set.” I answered.
I heard her come back in and shut the door. Being face down I couldn’t see anything now but the floor, but I did notice when she turned the lights down a moment later. I heard her humming to herself softly and moving something around.
“Are you warm enough?” she asked, suddenly right next to me.
I didn’t think I would be, but I was. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I usually have on something soothing, like sounds of the rainforest. Is that ok?”
“Yeah, sure, that’s fine.”
I heard her walk away, and then a few seconds later, heard some very soothing rain forest sounds start up. After that I heard a clicking noise, and realized she was using an electric candle lighter to light up all the candles around the room. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and heard her speak again.
“Ok, I’m going to start with your neck, just relax, I’ll be very gentle.”
And she was. She started softly, using her palms along the sides of my neck, and then gently pressing her fingertips into the back of my head.
“How is that?” she asked. “Not too hard?”
“No, it’s perfect,” I replied.
She did that for about five minutes, just working the muscles, over and over and over again. Staring down through the headrest, I noticed two things; first, that she had removed her flip-flops, and second, that she had very nice feet. They were small and dark, with a perfect French manicure.
She worked my shoulders next, making wide, circular movements with both hands. She pressed down with the heel of her palm, working deep into the muscle but without grinding into the bone at all. Then it was down my back, her hands working deep into the muscles and attacking every knot.
I groaned as she hit a particularly tough area, and she laughed. “Lot of tension there!”
“Oh yeah.” I answered.
“Just relax, let me work it all out.”
She did about ten more minutes of lower back before I heard her say, “Ok, I’m going to move the towel down a bit and work on your butt a bit. Ok?”
“Ok,” I said.
She pulled back the towel, and tore into my butt it with same intensity as she had done my shoulders and back. It hurt slightly at first, but after a minute or two it started to feel great.
She was really kneading it full force, really working it hard, and I could hear her breathing harder and harder the more she dug in. In fact, at one point, I suddenly felt her breath on my lower back and I tensed up.
She stopped. “Sorry, did that hurt?”
“No, just a twitch, you know. I’m getting feeling back in that area!”
“I know, you’re like one solid knot! Susan said you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
“That’s true, between work, and her at school so much…”
“Well, now’s your chance to just relax, and let all your stress go. I’m going to go a little lower now.” She cupped a hand on the bottom of each butt cheek. She placed a thumb right where my thigh and butt connected and kneaded away, balancing her hands on the back of my thighs. The pressure was firm, but it felt great, so good in fact that I was actually beginning to doze off! But what happened next woke me up in a hurry!
I felt her hands working lower and lower, and I felt her thumbs gradually working their way inward on my thighs, until they finally hit the spot. You know the one, the one right underneath my balls! She pressed in hard with both thumbs, and I groaned despite myself.
“Did that hurt?’ she asked.
“No, just the opposite,” I said.
“Ok, just let me know. I know it’s a sensitive area.”
She had no idea! I was almost snorting through a mix of intense pain and undeniable pleasure. No one, not even my wife, had ever touched that spot before. Which made me think, should she be touching it now? I mean, it was actually not very sexual at all (probably because of the pain part), but still…
She must have sensed what I was thinking, because she said, “I know this is a sensitive area, but if you can, try not to tense up when I do this. Best thing is to try to relax your body as much as possible.”
I was about to ask her if she thought this was appropriate, but then figured it must be, since she’d made such a big deal about people getting embarrassed and all that. Plus, she really wasn’t touching my cock or balls, just that area underneath, which was really just as much leg as anything else. So I let it go, and just tried to relax.
“Nothing, it’s just sensitive, like you said.”
“This spot always is. There’s a whole group of muscles between your legs and butt and lower back that really never get any exercise, so they’re just always in one big knot. kaçak iddaa Plus, this area here-,” she pressed on that same spot again, “This is one of your chakra points.”
“Your chakra points? Your body has seven main points in the body where energy sort of stems from, called ‘Chakras’. They’re sort of nerve centers, at different places on your body. When they get out of whack, you feel it.”
“You’re not kidding,” I said.
She continued working the area with her thumbs, first in circles, then in straight strokes, up and down, harder and harder, and finally, slower and slower.
“Your thighs seem to be where you have the most stress. I’m going to work on your feet a bit, and then we’ll do more on the front of your thighs later.”
“Sounds good,” I croaked.
I’d never had my feet worked on before, but it felt almost as good as when she’d worked that spot between my legs. She dug into my soles, worked my heels, and pulled on my toes for what seemed like forever. I was in heaven, and this time I really did doze off.
I awoke to her whispering near my ear. “Ok, I’m going to have you go ahead and flip over now.”
Groggy, I spun myself over. I looked up at her, and noticed she’d removed her tracksuit and was now wearing a baby doll tee and a pair of shorts. It was the first real look I’d gotten at her figure, and I had to admit, it was fine. Those pretty feet held up some perfectly tanned legs, and her shirt has straining to hold in what looked to be at least a set of C cups.
She smiled at me, then reached over and poured herself a fresh handful of oil. Then she took her other hand and folded the end of my towel upward, exposing most of my legs, almost to the top of my thighs. She leaned in over me and placed a hand on each thigh, about two inches above the knee, thumbs towards the inside, fingers facing out. Her thumbs dug in to the insides of my thighs as her fingers worked the tops. She worked up my legs slowly, inching up slowly, but inching up, nonetheless.
I felt her reach the edge of the towel, which is where I figured she’d stop, but she slid her hands underneath, and kept working upward. Within a second, her hands were more or less cupped around my balls, and she dug her thumbs up into the area right underneath them and pushed in, rubbing the area over and over in a circular motion. The pressure was intense, almost painful, yet felt great at the same time, just like it had when she’d done the same thing on the other side.
She stopped, stood up straight, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Ok, um, for this next part, I need to go a little higher. Is that ok?”
I was feeling so good I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she was asking. “Higher?”
She smiled and wrung her hands a bit. “Yeah, um-” She shrugged. “I need to rub your balls a bit. Is that ok?”
What could I say? I mean, of course I wanted her to, but this had to be crossing the line, right? “Well, it’s ok, it’s just, that area, is, a little, uh, familiar, you know?”
“I know. It’s just that you’ve got a ton of stress down there, and I’m trying to work it all the way out. But if you’re not comfortable with that, we can skip that area.”
“I’m comfortable with it, it’s just, does that area qualify as ‘just another body part’?”
She nodded. “Sure it does. Remember, it’s all just muscle, that’s all a massage is, just relieving muscle tension. It’s like going to the doctor.”
If she had been coming at this a different way, I would have probably stopped it there. But there was nothing sexual about her approach. She really, sincerely seemed to be coming at it from a strictly professional point of view. So I relented.
“All right?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m ok with it.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
She reached up under the towel, and I don’t know what I was expecting, but man, she went at my guys full force! She placed a hand on either side of my scrotum, took a ball in each hand, and started rolling them between her thumb and fingers, kneading them in a fairly rough manner.
She looked up at me. “That’s not too rough, is it?” she asked.
It was, but I felt weird about saying so, so I just answered, “No, it’s fine.”
“Ok, just let me know.”
She tugged on sack my slightly, a little to one side, then to the other, and then back to the kneading. Then she flattened out one hand, pressed down on my sack and rolled it around with her palm. On one hand, it sort of hurt, on the other hand, it was the best pain I’d ever felt. And for the first time during the whole episode, I started to feel something stirring. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but the hot girl giving me a ball massage, but it was no use, and I felt myself begin to get hard.
It didn’t help matters that her hands had gradually gone higher and higher, until she was right at the spot where my sack met my dick. I might have been able to withstand just that, but now her fingers and thumbs were being to push up the shaft.
What kaçak bahis do I do now? I thought to myself. Do I just keep my eyes closed, and pretend it’s not happening? Do I apologize? I opened my eyes and looked down at the towel. There was no denying it; my hard-on had created a pretty good-sized tent.
I looked up at her, and I could tell she had noticed.
“Sorry,” I offered, sheepishly.
She shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s a perfectly natural reaction.” She smiled a bit. “Just relax, and let whatever happens, happen.”
It took a minute for that to sink in. Was she just trying to keep me from feeling embarrassed, or, was she actually encouraging me to get hard? Maybe she was just saying that if it happened to occur, that it was no big deal? I couldn’t tell!
And was she going to tell Susan? I doubted it, but still, if it came out that she as trying to be professional, and I got a huge hard-on… and Christ, didn’t she have a husband or something? Was he going to come bursting through the door?”
“I’ve actually been concentrating really hard, trying to make that not happen!” I offered, almost blurted.
She smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Just let yourself totally relax. Just let nature take its course. ”
Ok, I thought, that wasn’t ‘Let whatever happens, happen,’ that was encouragement! That was her encouraging me to get hard! Wasn’t it? Jesus, who knew at this point!
I weighed it in my head for a moment, then figured I’d just go ahead and ask. Better not to have any misunderstandings! “Are you saying, ‘If it happens, it happens’? Or are you saying, ‘Go ahead and let it happen’?”
She answered quickly. “I’m saying ‘go ahead and let it happen’.”
“Let it get…hard?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yep. Just relax and let it go.”
“I just didn’t want you to get freaked out or anything, you know, since this is all supposed to be nonsexual.”
“It’s still nonsexual,” she replied, pulling her hands away. “See what we’ve done, is we’ve sort of chased all the tension in your body to this one spot, from your shoulders down to your feet, and then back up into this area. That’s the nice thing about this technique, is that we can sort of centralize it all in one spot, and then work it completely out.”
“Makes sense,” I said. (Hey, it did!) “I just didn’t want to be improper or anything. I mean, I know you’re married…and I had visions of you having lunch with Susan and going, ‘You know what your pervert husband did?'”
She laughed. “No, it’s normal. Don’t fight it.” She smiled slightly. “I figured you must have been holding back. I mean, unless you’ve got ED or something, there’s usually no way that it can’t happen, once that particular combination of spots has been touched for so long. But I know you’ve been stressed out lately.”
Great, I thought. Now she thinks I’m impotent! “No, trust me, it’s taken a lot of concentration to keep it from happening!”
She chuckled. “That explains it,” she said, her fingers moving up the shaft a bit more. “But now I need you to just relax. And what’s going to happen is, everything, all your stress, is going to flow right there.”
Well, there you go, I thought. It doesn’t get clearer than that. I lay still and tried to just relax, and let ‘whatever happens happen’, but as soon as I did, I felt myself getting soft! I took a deep breath and tried to relax, but my guy was still shrinking!
“Here,” she said, stopping. “This should help you.” And with that, she crossed her arms at her waist, and pulled her shirt up and off, revealing what had to be the two most perfect breasts I’d even seen. Fake, obviously, but still incredible; two perfectly round, perfectly solid C cups.
“What are you doing?” I asked, almost gasped.
She dropped her shirt on the ground, then pulled off my towel and took hold of my dick with both hands. “Shhh. It’s ok. Go ahead and look at my chest. That should help you get hard.”
She thought I needed help? She didn’t know how tough it’d been for me not to get hard! But, I’ll tell you, as soon her hands clasped my dick, and I got one look at those perfect titties, all bets were off, and I could feel my dick starting to grow again.
“That’s it,” she said. “See? I knew that would help you.”
“It’s not that I need help-” I started.
“Oh, I don’t mean like that. I just mean, well, you know, there’s usually no way a healthy guy doesn’t see some boobs and get aroused.”
This was so wrong, I told myself. Or was it? Wasn’t it just a massage? I looked up at the ceiling, suddenly very guilty.
“Keep looking right here,” she said, taking one hand off of my dick and tapping it on her left breast. “Don’t fight it. Let yourself get hard.”
Staring at that chest was going to make getting hard and staying hard pretty easy! I must have been obvious in my staring, because she chuckled, “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, they’re fake.”
“They’re…beautiful.” I grunted.
“Thanks.” She replied, smiling.
There was no turning back now, she had both hands firmly around my dick, and was just doing incredible things to it; hand over hand motions, long strokes with two hands, slow and forceful, then soft. I closed my eyes, (I couldn’t see straight anyway) and let out a deep moan.
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