Gay Erotic Stories

I'm a professional masseur; not the type who charges old farts for a sexy rub down and not the type who burns incense, plays exotic music and talks oriental philosophy to bored suburban housewives. Not me. I offer deep- tissue sports massage to male athletes in my home, just around the corner from the all-male gym where I work out myself. Most of my clients are members and enjoy a regular massage that is important to serious weight lifters, wrestlers, and other "jocks." The fact is that I am one of them, a stocky power-lifter with the kind of massive upper body strength required to release tension and force very tight muscles to loosen. I've had to reinforce my massage table to accommodate enormous men weighing up to 300lbs. I rarely get a man under 200 pounds these days unless he's a visiting businessman referred by a member. My charges are very moderate and I never rush through a massage. With such huge, tightly muscled athletes I spend at least 90 minutes per session and sometimes longer. Most of these men have wives or girlfriends. The odd one or two will be very shy at first and ask to wear his shorts or briefs during the massage. This I don't allow. Nor do I bother with a "modesty towel" like you might get in a health spa. I explain to my men that lifters store tension in their large glutes, get cramps in the inner thighs or calves, and can be tight in many other locations. I need access to these private parts on my table or the massage is useless. Most go along with this, although I still have one muscleman who won't strip in front of me. He always insists on wearing his thong. His problem, not mine. A typical client is young Paul, a hefty 252-pound bodybuilder who tends to overtrain and bring his pain to my table. Today is no exception. Paul undresses fully and lies on his stomach. The room is warm and private. To keep my men at ease, I don't often wear more than a jock strap myself. Its part of the male bonding, I believe, and my clients will often squeeze a pec or an arm. There's a wall mirror if one of us feels like flexing. Paul is due to spend two full hours. He needs shaving done on his upper body afterwards and with his size it all takes time. I begin with his neck, shoulders and back. He seems OK here. When I reach the boy's bulging glutes, I encounter tension. Using both hands, I begin kneeding his left buttock and later his right. The muscles begin to loosen and, if Paul's groaning is an indication, he's enjoying the manipulation. I leave his buttocks for the very tight hamstrings and then his 19-inch calves. I am sweating and grunting from the effort, using all my strength to loosen his tight, Herculean legs. It's time for a break. I head for the kitchen for a drink while Paul turns over. When I return, it's round two. His quads and inner thighs really hurt him. Even moderate pressure makes the big boy groan in pain. By now I'm working up the inside of his big thighs towards the pulled groin but I pause. "Paul," I ask softly, "would you help me out? Spread your legs some more and then lift your gonads up in the air." I see him comply with my request, and I continue massaging his groin. He encourages me to work deeply but gently "down there." From time to time my knuckles encounter the base of his big scrotum. He's grunting quite loudly now and I can see that his member is erecting. His chest is expanding, taking in air, and seeing his growing arousal has excited me also. Neither of us says a word about it. Pulling myself together, I move on to his upper torso. I work the biceps and triceps, both very thick. I get the lather and razor out to shave his chest, recently measured, he informs me, at 56 inches. I can now see his heavy nuts resting on the tops of his thighs once again. His penis now looks softer but not much smaller. It's a thick, cut tool and some liquid drips from its hole. Paul's pectorals are gigantic, thrusting mounds with plenty of hair on them. I've begun shaving the left one and then skip over to the right one. He is watching the shave but what he is thinking about I don't know. I interrupt his thoughts to offer encouragement: "Just the nipples left. I have to pinch them. Try not to flex while I shave you." It's then my job to take hold of his large, protruding nipples and to pinch and pull them outward for more visibility. While squeezing one pec at a time, I carefully shave around each thick nipple to expose it fully. The session is nearly over. I have begun to massage large amounts of cream into his super-sensitive pectorals. Paul is really groaning loudly from the breast manipulation and his penis is throbbing non-stop. It's a lewd sight. I quiety whisper in his ear, "Need relief for those bull nuts? Want some oil?" Placing the oil by his right hand, I continued to massage the giant's chest while watching him pour oil all over his big privates. Only seconds later he began an intense masturbation with his 20 inch right arm. When his climax came, I thought the table would give way below him. He fired off several times and I could see his big, tight balls spasm as he bellowed out "FUCK". Yes, massage is great. I'll tell you about some other adventures later on.