Seduced by Tom the Masseur

This is a true story.

A few months after my first gay experience as a straight man, I booked a session with a masseur at a massage parlour. I had no idea what he looked like, just his name and a few words about him.

I waited a while for him at the parlour, as apparently he'd not realised about the booking. A short man in his forties with a neat little beard and tattoos on his arms came up to me and apologised. I immediately realised two things. First, Tom was obviously gay. Second, although not on paper my type, I was quite attracted to him. I liked the fact that I was old enough to be his dad. Also -- well, you often can't put it into words. Something about his smile, and the gentle way he spoke.

We went down to the massage room in the basement. I always liked the idea of being massaged in the nude but never had the courage to ask for it. Same this time -- I had white underwear on, although a fully dressed Tom pulled the undies down quite a way to give me a good doing over on my gluteus maximus, which I loved.

While he was doing my feet, I discreetly (I thought) wanked myself, I was so turned on. He made no comment but on another occasion when asked said yes, he'd noticed.

When we were finishing I gave him a good tip, the first ever after a massage (it's not normal where I live). He profusely thanked me and mentioned that he was leaving the practice and would instead offer massages at his own apartment. I took his details, of course.

There followed several sessions at his apartment when I grew increasingly frustrated. On the first or second occasion I grew bold enough, after at first having my underwear pulled down a bit, to suggest that I take it off altogether. He reacted by asking if I was really sure, and admitting that it made the massage easier. Just my luck, I thought -- I'm attracted to a gay masseur, but he doesn't want to have sex with me. I'd always been terrified of asking girls out for fear of rejection, and the last thing I wanted to do was to annoy this man by being too forward or obvious.

He didn't touch my penis except accidentally when massaging the inside of my thighs. He did gently massage my belly, which nearly sent me crazy. Due to a prostrate operation I find it difficult for my cock to get hard, nor can I ejaculate, but I certainly wanted to, it was so erotic. He ignored my soft moans which were a bit of a hint.

Finally something did change on my fifth massage, although he never told me why.

As usual I took my clothes off, got on the massage table, and a fully clothed Tom gave me a massage in complete silence.

At the end of what his normal massage I was used to him saying something like "I hope you enjoyed the massage" but instead he began to run his fingers gently down my body from the top of my chest down to my toes. He did this several times. I began to moan, and managed to say "You're teasing me." He looked me in the eyes and gently said "Yes, I am". Then he suddenly pulled me up and thrust his tongue inside my mouth.

I'd never French kissed a man before, let along one with a beard, no matter how trim. It tickled. This went on for about two minutes. I broke it off, and whispered "Why don't you take your clothes off".

Twenty seconds later I was on my knees, sucking his stiff, four-inch cock, and was face-fucked as he grunted away. I saw that the tattoos went over rather more than just his arms (that is, his chest as well). I asked if we could go to his bedroom but he said that it was a mess -- so he hadn't planned the seduction.

After a minute or two he pushed me onto the massage table, I put my legs above his shoulders, and he put his cock inside me. I pleaded for a condom but I'm not sure he heard me, but then I was so excited by the change in events I wouldn't really have noticed. It wasn't as painful as my first time. After about thirty seconds he grunted, pulled himself out and came all over my belly in small drops (that's when I realised that the bastard hadn't used a condom). I turned around, leant forward and sucked him dry. There was only a little left on his cock, but my greedy mouth hardly noticed.

I shyly thanked Tom, and although he didn't say then (or at any time later) that he'd enjoyed it too he did say that it had been a while for him.

The next time Tom gave me a massage (he fully dressed, me in the nude) I was so turned on by his hands on me that within ten minutes he had stripped and was on the table, cuddling me and reaching down between my legs to stroke my cock, a pose he said that he'd never done before with a client. As before I soon got on my knees and sucked him while he face-fucked me.

I then asked to be taken doggy style. "That's my favourite position", he replied. I leant over the massage table offering my bottom. Tom didn't use a condom, again, as he rapidly entered me, which didn't hurt, and took me as his bitch. I can assure you that I just loved being used by this man. I felt little sensation physically, due to my operation, other than a feeling of fullness, but emotionally I felt so satisfied -- I was completing my destiny, after all -- that I quietly moaned and squealed with happiness. Again he pulled out rather quickly, and a few seconds later I felt drops of semen hit my back. The sex in all only took about five minutes, so it really was a quickie.

I would have loved to have had a relationship with this enigmatic man, but I wanted some affection and not just to be a man offering two holes for his cock to fill up. So I stopped coming for a massage. He didn't have to say he loved me, just that he enjoyed being with me, and that I had pleased him, things like that. Does that sound gay? Yet it was me, the straight man, who wanted those words.

Not that I regretted these two sexy encounters, of course.