Finding Another Way

I had been to massage parlours many times when girls would do similar things to this. To my horror, in some ways, I realised the intensity of the feelings they had given me palled into almost insignificance with those that Peter was providing.

"You seem to be enjoying it," he whispered slipping one hand under my chest and the other up my body from between my legs. One hand cupped and squeezed my tit and nipple, the other my cock and balls. I started to slowly fuck his hand. Where all this bravado and confidence had come from I had no idea?

"Maybe you should turn over now?" He said quietly.

I was happy to do so, I wanted to flaunt myself at him, I wanted him to see my cock as well as feel it. I turned myself over and gulped when I saw him. Unbeknown to me he had removed his tracky trousers and was wearing one of those supports that athletes wear, a crude thong really.

"Oh my God," slipped from my lips as I cast my eyes up and down his body and on the what looked to be huge bulge in the jock strap.

It's so hard to describe what I felt. Had I have turned over and seen a girl in a thong I would say she's beautiful, she's got a good body, great tits or fantastic legs. I would acknowledge her looks and sexiness and would, of course, want to fuck her. I didn't feel that when I looked at Peter. All I felt was sex. All I saw was a vehicle for sex, a conduit for the provision of it. I didn't see him as being beautiful and I didn't want to fuck him or have him fuck me. It was so different, almost indescribable from hetero stuff. Different and indescribable, but hugely arousing.

"Let's do your chest shall we?" He asked moving behind my head, leaning over me and pouring some oil right between my two flat boobs. He oozed that outwards, up and down my chest and then started to massage me. Not as hard as he had done on my back, but not as soft as he had between my legs.

It was a strange situation for as he leaned forward to massage further down my chest, so his bulge would press against the back of my head. I had never had a cock caress my head before!

Also, as he eased his hands downward from my shoulders, past my collar bones, over, after lingering on, my manboobs and nipples, onto my lower chest and then my waist so I yearned for his hand to continue further and grab my cock.

I had lost all of my inhibitions now. I was beyond being embarrassed or worried about what he thought. After all, I was lying naked and erect on his massage table as he attended to me dressed in just a jock strap and singlet. He had played with my cock, ran his fingers through the crease of my bum and he had stroked my balls. He had taken me to a level of arousal and excitement that matched anything I'd had with a woman and there was clearly more to come. What the fuck had inhibitions or embarrassment got to do with anything? And come to that, I was thinking as his fingertips did brush against the tip of my cock, what has man, woman, gay, straight or whatever sexuality got to do with anything? This was pure sex. It was totally irrelevant that we happened to be two men. Cast your social, macho and religious pre-conceptions to one side and it comes down to the erect cock of the one needing relief and the hands or whatever of the one about to provide.

"Oh fuck yes," I groaned squirming and shuddering as both of his hands ran down and then up the length of my cock.

"You ready?" He whispered in a fairly tight voice as his hands left my cock and he moved alongside the bed resting his hand on my waist just millimetres from my cock, which seemed to be pulsating.

"Yes," I groaned.

"Anything special?"

"No, oh I don't know. Just make me cum, please make me cum," I sighed.

"Ok James," he said softly turning away and going over to the table containing his oils and other stuff.

"A little oil?" He asked looking over his shoulder at me.

"Yes whatever," I replied/

He turned and looked at me and then totally surprised me. Without breaking our gaze, he slid his hands inside the wide waistband of the jock strap and pushed it down until it was round his ankles. Stepping out of it he came back to the side of the bed his big, supremely hard cock seeming to lead the way.

'Was he expecting to fuck me? Did he want me to suck it? Was I supposed to want to fuck him? Should I grab his cock or simply do nothing?'

I had no answer to these thoughts as he stood beside me and poured some oil onto my cock. He let it dribble down and off my erection onto my balls and stomach as he put his hands under my knees. He lifted them and pulled my legs apart. I was lying on my back, as hard as I had ever been with my knees raised and legs open with oil seeping down into the crease of my bum. It felt absolutely fucking amazing.

His fingers returned and oozed all over my cock, balls, stomach, between my legs and into the crease of my arse. I was moaning, groaning, sighing and squirming as he played me like a puppet master plays his dolls, but then I was his doll, I suppose..

He wrapped one set of fingers round my cock that was now throbbing and aching due to its hardness and brushed the others along the crease of bum, which due to my position was open. So intense were the feelings that my entire body shuddered. He stroked me in both places at the same time presumably watching and maybe enjoying my writhing, squirming body and deep moans and groans. I was totally gone now and enjoying this gay experience so much that all rational thoughts left me. All I wanted was more of him, more from him, more of what he was doing and more of what I knew he could do.

My head was rolling from side to side, my mouth was open and I was intermittently opening and shutting my eyes. I didn't want to catch his gaze, I didn't want eye contact, that was far too personal and, for sure I didn't want him kissing me or using his mouth on my body, that would be too intimate. But I couldn't stop myself from looking at his body in the short, tight singlet and jock strap. Why? Was it attractive? Was it appealing? I don't think so, but it exemplified what I was after and what I most wanted sex. Ok sex of a different type to usual, but nowadays what's usual? It and he reeked of sex, true it was male to male sex, but the end result is the same as that with a woman, satisfaction, and the way he was stroking my cock that would not be far away.

He saw me looking and our gazes did catch. He smiled slightly as he said.

"Ok?"

I grinned back as his fingers slid along the crease of my bum and one pressed right on my hole.

"Fucking marvellous," I moaned.

"Good," he said quietly moving his hand from my hardon and slipping it into the wide elastic waist of the jock strap. He went to pull it down and then stopped as he looked at me with half of his long, thick cock sticking out of it. "Yes?" He asked.

"Oh fuck yes," I moaned without thinking as I watched him push it down and saw his awesome cock leap out. He was slightly, but no means fully hard, but he was big; in other circumstances I might have felt inadequate!

Not since I was a kid had I been so up close and personal to a guy's hard cock. It was so sexual and as his hands returned to my cock and arse so with a groan I reached out and grabbed it with both hands.

"Mmmmm," slid from his mouth as I rubbed it.

In the state I was in emotionally and sexually and with an almost total lack of inhibitions, it felt fucking amazing.

But it was becoming far too much for me. My mind and body were hurtling concurrently to the same ends, a mind blowing orgasm of awesome proportions.

"Oh fucking hell yes," I moaned arching my back, pushing myself harder into his grip and holding onto his semi-hardness as my cock exploded.

++

That episode with Peter frightened me. Everything had been so stimulating and all that we did had such a powerful effect on me. Me undressing in front of him, his eyes on my cock, the feelings of his hands on my body, the light touches on my balls, between my legs and on my bum crease, me on my back almost, no not almost if I'm honest totally, flaunting my rampant nakedness at him and, of course holding his slightly swollen cock and him making me cum.

As, over the next few days, I thought about it I worried about myself and my sexuality. I was very relieved, though, to feel just as attracted to Kel and the other women I came in contact with over the next week or so. I had made a point of shagging Kelly that night after my time with Peter and it was as good as it usually is with her. We had sex the next few nights as well and as I fucked her, I did think of her and not a man. It was as if that afternoon had hardly happened or was a total interlude, just as the one with the Thai boy had been.

Whether it was really an effort to convince myself that I wasn't gay, or whether I just felt horny and wanted something different, I went to a massage parlour; laughingly I thought of it a straight one!

After she'd gone through the ritual 'pretend she knew what massage was about' and had started on my legs doing the normal 'getting nearer and nearer to my balls' bit, I hardened quite nicely. She played with me in the same places that Peter had and it did the trick. My erection grew to its fullest and I was ready for sex. If I'm honest, I would have to say that the Latvian blonde didn't actually excite me as much as Peter had, but that may well have been due to him being a more adept masseur than me having gay tendencies. It was also probably due to the fact he put more into it than she did. Nevertheless, after I had turned over and she had, in a rather desultory manner, massaged my chest for all of what, three minutes and had then run her fingers along my cock, we did have a good fuck. Something that I had no inclination towards with Peter, either way.

So, I realised, I can enjoy both. Hmmm am I bi? And if I am so what?

I thought about that quite a lot and sort of rationalised that being bi, for I concluded that I had to be, was a state of mind that's all. It didn't mean I fancied men, or looked at a guy and wondered what he would be like undressed as I did women. It didn't mean that I wanted to kiss, cuddle or hold or be held by men as I did with women. It didn't mean that I wanted a man's body pressed against mine as I loved having a woman's against me. Most importantly, I had no feelings of wanting to be fucked or wanting to fuck a man. No, I purely wanted the buzz, the excitement, the difference I suppose of something new. After all, having been sexually active and sexually adventurous as well as sexually unfaithful for getting on for twenty five years, something new was like a fresh of breath air.

A month or so later I found myself phoning Peter and making another appointment. Although I hadn't yearned for a male massage at all during that time, something slowly came over me that prompted me to call him. I sort of related that to what I had read about serial killers. They go ages without having the need to kill, then suddenly they have that urge. Just like me and sex with a guy.

After making the call and waiting until the next day I found that I became increasingly excited about the massage. The anticipation was acute and the expectancy was so extreme that I could hardly wait to get home to fuck Kel to rid myself of the sexual excitement.

"That's it just a little," he said as he pulled on my hip bone indicating that I should raise myself up a bit. I was still lying on my front.

He was standing to the left side of the massage table. He slid his left hand under me and wrapped his fingers round my cock. His warm, oily grip was so similar to a cunt that my natural male instincts took over and I started to fuck it. I was thrusting in and out of the surrogate pussy in slow movements when I felt the fingers on his other hand slithering up and down the crease of my bum, which was open a bit due to my semi-kneeling position, open leg position.

A finger, probably his middle one, came to rest quite quickly; it found the place it had been searching for, the place where it was welcome, the place where, I realised, it was wanted. Yes Peter was pressing his finger enquiringly right on my arsehole. He had the good grace and diplomacy to simply put pressure on the outside of it and made no effort to enter it; that decision was clearly left to me.

As with many men, I have something of an anal fixation, well that's in addition to general bum, legs, tits and pussy fixations as well! I love playing with a girl's arse and I love them playing with mine. Kelly isn't that keen on anal sex, the full cock penetration type I mean, but she loves everything else, tongue, lips and fingers and she gives as much as she takes.

So Peter was by no means entering virgin territory when, after I groaned, wiggled my bum and thrust harder into his hand, he slid his finger up my arse.

The combination of the sheer excitement of the outrageous nature of having a guy's finger up my bum, the extreme sensations that gave me as he stimulated my prostate and the feelings on my cock as I fucked the pretend cunt, and at no time was that a pretend arse thankfully, were unbelievable.

"Sorry about the mess on the towel," I said as I got off the table.

"No problem as long as you enjoyed it," he replied.