A Soigneur's Song

My name is Ryan, and I'm a soigneur (pronounced "swan-yure") for an all-male professional cycling team. I'm 26 years old, a former mountain biker and road cyclist who had to leave competitive riding due to an injury (ruined my knee on a wicked downhill). I tried to work in the "real" world, but I found that I missed the cycling world so much that I was miserable. I took a bunch of classes in sports medicine and became a licensed massage therapist, then signed on with one of the best pro cycling teams in the world after a lot of bouncing around from team to team. Luckily for me, I have a great reputation and some major names who won't go on any tours without me. What can I say? I have GREAT hands.

The riders I work with are such cool guys. Cycling is such a misunderstood sport. I have heard so many derogatory comments about these guys from idiots who have no idea what they go through and how hard they work. All these people - fat slobs, mostly - see is a bunch of guys riding a bicycle in brightly colored spandex shorts and funny looking shoes. What they don't see is the hours of training, the sweating and effort, the pain they're in when they finish a 6 or 8 hour training ride, the toll so much time away from their families takes. Being a pro cyclist is not for the timid.

This is where I come in. I'm part of a team of soigneurs who travels with this team and takes care of them while we're on the road (or in the air). We make sure their uniforms are clean and in one piece (some of these guys take hard spills and tear their uniforms to shreds), make sure their hotel rooms are set and dining requirements met (special diets for these guys, with all the energy they expend), and take care of whatever medical ailments they might have. Mostly, this means massage, as the team doctors take care of injuries and such. Because I have been doing this for so long, I'm the main man when it comes to massaging. Many of these guys swear my hands have magical healing powers...and I let them think that. Works for me!

The only catch is...I'm gay. I'm talking super gay here. I am so horny all the time that I'm surprised my cock hasn't fallen off because of all the fucking and jacking off I do. I'm very discreet about all of this - I never do anything in public that might compromise my team or my reputation - but those closest to me know what the deal is. They're cool with it...especially because it benefits so many of them in so many ways.

I mentioned earlier that all this traveling takes a toll on these guys and their families. More than one cyclist has had to leave their team because they couldn't keep their cock in their pants and fucked around with the wrong woman - so it was either leave the team or get a divorce and live in disgrace with the reputation of being a whore. This is another reason I'm so popular with the guys I've worked on - I don't kiss and tell. If they want to talk among themselves, there's not much I can do about it...but most of them keep their mouths shut because they know a good thing will end if they don't. In short, I try to relieve them not only of their pain, but also of their sexual needs. The good news is, because of all the testing that goes on, I know these guys are clean. I get myself tested on a regular basis as well, so they know I'm clean. Everything is safe and no one is put at risk.

These cyclists are not big, bulky guys. Some are physically bigger than others, of course, but for the most part they are lean and very muscular, with hardly any body fat. I absolutely love working them over with my strong hands, feeling how their hard bodies react to me. I love how their muscles feel and I love looking at their beautifully sculpted bodies as they lay on my table. I am absolutely professional and make sure these guys get exactly what they need from me, whether it be sexual or not. Not everyone uses ALL of my services...but everyone goes away satisfied regardless. My guys will never suffer as long as I'm working on them.

When someone wants or needs more than just a massage, I let them come to me. I don't force my desires on anyone, and I make damn sure they know what they're going to get if they ask for it. The veteran riders all know this, but the newer guys are always a bit hesitant to go the sexual route at first. Once they get a taste - so to speak - of what it's like to get full service from me, they usually come back for more. Like I said, I'm pretty damn good. In EVERY way.

We were in Italy at one of the major road races there, a stage race, and things were hopping right along. The guys were doing really well and everything looked great. The other soigneurs and I had spent the day preparing kits, meals, and hotel arrangements and we were all pretty beat. I had hooked up with one of them the night before, and after a night spent fucking each other's brains out, we had more reason than the others to be tired. We were both very careful, knowing how the game worked, but I couldn't stop thinking about how his cock had felt in my mouth, and how wonderfully he had managed to stroke and suck me into a huge orgasm. It was enough to make me so horny I had to excuse myself and go jack off in my hotel room. I would have invited my friend, but he was busy with other things.

Soon enough, the first riders began returning to the team area. They were exhausted, today having been a mountain stage, and one of our newest guys, a young one just brought up from the training team, had managed to come in 1st place. Much to everyone's surprise, including his, he had blazed up the mountains all day and found himself at the head of the pack. Naturally, some suspicious folks were already accusing him of doping, but we all new better. With the stringent testing and scrutiny our team was under, there was no way that could happen. Besides, he was just young, excited, and full of energy, and the team worked hard for him once they realized he could take the stage.

He went to get tested immediately after he returned, and I was told to go work him over once he'd had his shower. Pleased for him, I waited for him in the training room, watching his body move as he entered, still wrapped in his towel. He was beaming with excitement, tired but ecstatic. Before you ask, no, I had not done anything for him but massage him at this point...but I had a feeling that was about to change.

"Hi, Ryan," he said shyly as he walked in. "Did you see my win?"

"Indeed I did, Cole," I said, smiling and warming up my hands for him. "Well done!"

"It's because of the awesome massage you gave me last night. I couldn't believe how good I felt this morning. I thought I was going to be too sore to do much after yesterday's stage, but thanks to you, I wasn't!"

I grinned, "Thanks, man...just doing my job. Now, hop up on the table here and let's see what we can do about tomorrow's stage."

He walked quickly over to the table and I turned my back, giving him privacy so he could lay down. I had known from day one of his joining the team that he was very shy, so I always did my best to make him feel comfortable with me. No matter how good a massage therapist is, it doesn't do any good if the client is tense or uptight. He said he was ready, so I grabbed his favorite oil and began working on his legs.

He talked excitedly about winning the stage, and I let him ramble on, soothing him with my hands, loving the feel of his muscles responding to my touch. I moved the towel so I could reach him hamstrings, and I felt him tighten up a bit.

"You okay?" I asked, alarmed that maybe I had hurt him.

"Yes," he said, his breath a little ragged. "Just a bit tender there, I guess."

"Okay, I'll take it slow. Let me know if anything hurts, Cole. We have to be careful about this."

I began to rub again, gently at first, then moving deeper into his tissues. His muscles were like iron, so I told him again to relax and take deep breaths. He did, and I felt him loosen up. He grew silent as I worked, and I had some soft music playing to help relax him. I was lost in my own world, attuned to his every move, when I heard him mumble something into the towel he was laying on.

"What, Cole? Are you okay?" I said, leaning forward to hear him better.

Drowsily, he repeated, "You can move the towel off if you want. My butt muscles hurt a bit."

I looked at him, his strong young back and the backs of his muscular legs, then gently move the towel so it was off to the side. His ass was a sight to behold - tight and muscular, and, of course, lily white compared to the bronze of his legs. He was shaved smooth, as so many of the guys are, and his ass was absolutely perfect.

I took a deep breath, feeling my cock begin to grow, and forced myself to touch his ass gently, with no pressure at first. I ran my hands along his lower back, pushing there, loving the sound of him moaning in pleasure. I lowered my hands to his perfect ass, rubbing his cheeks in slowly widening circles until my strokes reached his hips. He shifted and moaned again, and when I looked down I noticed he had spread his legs open a bit more than they had been. I could just see his balls between his legs and felt my breath quicken. I had to wait, though. I couldn't make a move until he gave me a clearer signal.

I slowly ran my hands down his ass and along the backs of his legs so my thumbs were on the insides of his thighs, and he shifted again and opened his legs wider. My mind was whirling, as it always did when one of the guys decided he wanted me. I had to move very carefully here to make sure I didn't scare him off.

"Everything ok?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. My thumbs were mere inches from his balls as I rubbed him, moving slightly higher each time. He moaned in response and raised his hips slightly, reaching under to, I assume, rub his cock. I kept rubbing slowly and gently, not moving anything but my hands, and he shifted down so his balls were touching me. He reached up from underneath himself and took one of my hands, placing it squarely on his balls. I could hardly breathe as he held my hand there and began to rub it up and down on his balls.

He did that for a few seconds, then I took hold of myself and asked him if he wanted to turn over so I could get to his chest and thighs. He didn't speak, just turned over without bothering with the towel, and there it was - his long, erect cock stiff as a board and standing straight up. I stared at it but didn't move, then looked into his eyes. He was blushing furiously, but laid on his back and licked his lips as he said, "I've heard you sometimes do special things for the boys."

"It's true," I said, not moving or looking at his cock. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure," he said, hesitant. "I just know I need something, and I want you to do it. Can you show me what you do?"

I moved closer and looked down at him, my hand resting on his flat, rock-hard stomach. He tensed at my touch but didn't move away, so I left my hand there. "Cole, this is serious. I need you to understand what you're getting into. Do you know what you're asking me?"

He was silent for a long moment, looking at me, then he startled me by reaching out with his hand and brushing the front of my pants, where my erect cock was straining against the fabric. I gasped at his touch but didn't back off as I looked deep into his eyes.

"I know what I'm asking. Please, show me. If I don't like it, I'll stop you."

'Riiiight,' I thought to myself, knowing full well he wouldn't want to stop me once I got going. I reached out and gently brushed the tip of his hard cock with the back of my hand, watching him as I did it. He tensed up and jumped a little, but then laid back and closed his eyes, his legs relaxing. I smiled and reached for his cock, gently enclosing it in my strong hand, massaging his tight balls with the palm of my other hand.

"Ohhh shit," he sighed, spreading his legs wider. I grinned again and began stroking him with long, slow strokes, my hand forming a slick glove around him as his cock began to release its juices. He moaned and arched his back, pumping his cock into my hand, then surprised me by reaching down and making me grip him tighter. He held my hand in place and began moving his hips up and down, fucking my hand, and I rubbed his balls while he humped. I could tell he was going to come quickly if I didn't make him slow down, so I bent over until my mouth was next to his ear.

"Cole, do you want this to last longer?"

"Hmmm?" he said, opening his eyes and looking around in a daze.

"I said, do you want this to last longer? If you do, you need to slow down or you're going to explode in about three seconds."

"Oh god no...this feels so fucking good...I don't want you to stop," he moaned, looking into my eyes.

"Okay, then slow down and let me take over. Trust me, you will not be disappointed."

He let go of my hand and stretched his arms over his head, covering his eyes, and I marveled at the sight of his lean, hard body.

I put one hand on his smooth chest and started rubbing him gently with the tips of my fingers. I ran the fingers of my other hand gently up and down the underside of his rigid cock, gently teasing the head and rubbing my thumb over his slit. He shuddered and his cock twitched, so I grasped him gently in my hand and began slowly stroking him, my other hand still resting soothingly on his chest.

He relaxed and began breathing deeply as my strokes became longer, still slow, but I gripped him a little more tightly. His hips began to move in rhythm with my stroking and he spread his legs open, allowing me to stroke him more deeply. I reached down and cupped his balls with my other hand, holding them down while I stroked his cock.

"Ohhh Ryan," he breathed, his hands clutching the top of the massage table. "That feels so fucking good."

I smiled and said nothing, just kept stroking him gently and deeply. I let go of his balls and slid my finger down toward his asshole, rimming him, loving the sound of his harsh breathing as I touched him.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

"Fuck yes," he said in a husky voice. "Keep doing that. Please don't stop."

"No worries there," I said, smiling. Nothing on earth could have stopped me from getting what I wanted at that point.

He surprised me by bending his legs so his feet were flat on the table, totally open to me. I kept rimming him with my finger and stroking his throbbing cock, my own cock feeling uncomfortable inside my pants.

"Slide it in me," he gasped. I stopped and stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly slid my finger up inside him. He tensed for a second, then relaxed and let me slide a little further in.

"Motherfucker," he moaned. "You're going to make me cum."

"Are you ready now?" I asked. "I can keep this going a lot longer if you want."

"Fuck no, I want to cum. I feel like I'm going to explode," he said, his hips moving faster.

"Okay, Cole. Here we go," I said, grinning.

I gripped his hard hot cock even tighter and began stroking him in hard, short thrusts. My finger slid rhythmically in and out of his asshole, fucking him hard. He moaned louder and his breath came in harsh gasps, then suddenly his cock began throbbing and jumping in my hand.

"Oh fuck I'm commmmiiinnnngggggg," he said, drawing the word out as his hips pushed up into my hand and his cock began spewing thick wads of cum. I stroked him harder, squeezing him as I stroked down his cock, and took my finger out of his ass so I could rub his tight balls.

He finally grabbed my hand and made me stop, then lay there completely spent, ropes of his cum splattered all over his chest and some on his chin. I wanted desperately to put his cock in my mouth and suck him dry, but I was afraid that might be too much too soon for him.

I let go of his cock and grabbed a towel, tossing it on his chest and turning to wash the oil and other juices off of my hands.

"Okay, you're all set, Cole," I said, drying my hands. "I'll leave you alone so you can get dressed."

He just lay there looking at me, his eyes half open, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He looked pointedly at the prominent bulge in my pants – made even more prominent because I was wearing no underwear – then looked up at me and said, "Do you want me to help you with that?"

I just laughed and patted him on the chest. "No, you need your rest for tomorrow. I can take care of this bad boy, don't worry. Maybe another time. Now go on, get dressed and get out of here. I've got work to do."

He laughed and sat up groggily to gather up his clothes.

"I bet you do," he said, grinning wickedly. "I just bet you do."

To be continued.....