Clientele

Ross Avilgliano had carved a niche for himself in the small community where he'd felt fortunate to find a job.

Unfortunately, it was in the middle of everywhere, but close to none. The town, Martinsburg, was 4,200 in population, and considered a city. The next largest community of any size was 49,000, 50 minutes away to the north, and Springfield, the state capitol, was an hour away to the east.

Only two places offered 24-hour service, a gas station and a grocery store, and the grocery store would cut hours during the winter.

Ross had been here at just a year, starting his job a couple of weeks before school did in the fall.

Ross was the athletic trainer, an odd term for a physical therapist, but the industry name. While the position paid well, Ross decided to generate some additional income and had become a masseur.

His business had exploded over night, thanks to a combination of things including his Italian good looks, his friendly personality, his professional background, and his clientele.

Ross was an imposing figure, standing 6'3" tall, broad shoulders from his three years playing professional football, and classic Italian features. Ross was known to strut, but his gait was from his build, not his attitude. He was 26.

He had a smile for everyone, and thanks to knowing everyone's children, he'd swiftly learned everyone in town and the surrounding smaller communities.

His three years as a professional football player had attracted several families to the area when school ended in the spring.

While he was not a coach, his presence had become a recruiting tool, and families with football players had flocked to town.

When Ross opened his massage and massage therapy business, he had a maximum number of clientele in a week, and was turning away three times as many. He called in a couple of buddies from the football days, and the three had a very successful business. Ross re-worked his client list to shuffle the female clients to his buddies, and he took the most handsome men.

Ross' masseur sessions were one part physical therapy and one part mental therapy.

Mr. Bert was the last client of the day. Augustus Bert was handsome, distinguished, and one of the wealthiest men in town. Augustus was Ross' first client, the father of the football team's quarterback. His senior son was just as good looking as his father, never lacking a girl on each arm when he was spotted in town.

Ross was careful not to fool around with his clientele, but he'd changed his mind over the summer when most of his playmates had moved to larger areas to make a living.

Ross knew Augustus was not a happy man at home.

Over the last six months, Augustus had shared his life with Ross. Augustus' wife was just short of being a harpy. They'd quit having sex and Augustus liked his sex. He often pried into Ross' sex life, but Ross never shared. How do you tell the father of the quarterback that you're gay?

Ross never touched a student inappropriately. A couple of students were tempting, but Ross could wait until they were legal, and he would.

The fathers, well, that was a different story.

Ross prepped his station. His buddies were already gone for the day, and Ross didn't have a game to get to; the school season didn't start for another couple of weeks, although pre-season practice had. That ended 30 minutes ago. Ross had just left the shower, and started prepping when Augustus entered. He was a few minutes early. That was unlike him, but had become typical the past few months.

"Augustus, welcome, I just got ready for you. Go ahead and disrobe in the next room and come out when you're ready," Ross said.

Augustus would go into the next room, strip, meditate for a few minutes, then come out for his massage when he was ready.

Ross had designed a massage table for his needs. A typical massage table would have a plane for the body and a ring at the end for a headrest.

Ross had kept that part, but where the hips would rest, Ross' table split in two, so Ross was able to spread the legs and deliver a better massage to each limb. Ross had used the table for his personal pleasure, too, but never with a client.

The table was ready and Ross waited for Augustus to finish his mediation. Ross liked Augustus. Augustus stood 6', a trim build, and a mostly smooth body. Augustus had no chest hair. A trail started at his navel and slimly fanned out into his pubes. He had average covering on his arms and legs, and a little more than that on his ass.

The 43-year-old man was in great shape. Ross was attracted to Augustus, but hadn't done anything. But six months ago, Ross started wondering.

Augustus often shared things, but six months ago, he shared a fight between him and Bunnie (it was on her birth certificate). Each week Augustus came in for his massage, to relieve tension and relax, he revealed the deterioration of his marriage. They'd disagreed on Justin's choice of college. Justin was the football quarterback, stunningly good looking, attaining the height of his father, and taking the best of looks from both of his parents.

Just two weeks ago, Augustus revealed he and Bunnie no longer shared a bedroom, and hadn't had sex for several weeks before that.

Ross was tempted. With his sex partners mostly gone, Ross had made a decision. Today's massage would be new, and he didn't think Augustus would mind.

The meditation room door opened and Augustus strode forth. For the second week, he wore no towel. Ross had thought nothing of it last week, but this week, there seemed to be body language, a sub-text of intent. Ross had seen Augustus' penis for a year now. The ample appendage dangled low, long soft, a scepter to make a horse jealous.

Being a hometown boy, Augustus' penis was known, and legendary. Rumor was Justin had several half-siblings. Augustus had seen to it that his son would not follow in his footsteps in that regard, having put the boy into a chastity device when he was 14. Ross had observed the device numerous times during therapy sessions with Justin. Justin, instead of being ashamed, proudly showed it off since it completely concealed his cock. Ross had learned Justin was allowed to take it off when his parents knew he would not be around females.

Both his parents, and several persons throughout the community had keys including Ross, the coach, the hospital, all the ambulances and other medical emergency services.

Augustus' cock was legendary. Justin's was enormous.

Augustus lay on the table, face down, resting his face in the padded headrest.

"How are you feeling, Augustus?" Ross started, going immediately for the shoulders, starting the 15 minutes regimen those required. Augustus used to be a 40-minute massage client, but he'd upped his sessions to nearly two hours, and had discussed doubling the sessions per week.

"Want my wife? Bunnie is hinting at divorce. Justin must go to a proper college,'" he mimicked his wife's high, strained voice, the voice of every stereotypical family matron. "Community college is not acceptable. His grandmother's money is paying for this, Augustus.' She droned on and on today, a full two hours. Toward the end, she mentioned that divorce lawyer from Versailles, but for negotiating with the college. I think it was a hint."

"Has Justin been asked?" Ross threw out the idea.

"Justin wants two years at the community college, then transfer for a third year at a proper college, graduate, and go into professional football," Augustus sighed. "You're sure he can go pro?"

Ross fielded that question from parents all the time. He hated it. Justin was the only kid in school that had a shot at the pros, but a dozen parents thought their child was a star!

"He has a chance, Augustus," he said, holding a shoulder for pressure, then released. "I'm glad you started the meditations. I think they really help you relax."

"I appreciate your insightful techniques and suggestions for change," Augustus said. "I need whatever I can get."

"I wanted to try some new moves today," Ross said. "I think given your recent tension-creating situations, you'll appreciate something a little different."

"Great, Ross. My body is in your capable hands," Augustus said.

In silence, Ross worked down Augustus' back, to the firm buttock. He popped the table open and started his usual massage of each leg. The routine was rigorous. Ross always scheduled Augustus last for this reason. Afterward, Ross would be exhausted.

Ross finished the legs, and eyed the furry butt. The black hairs showed no signs of the salt-and-pepper mane atop Augustus' head. The hairs weaved into a thick thatch going down into the ass crack.

Ross moved the leg planks to their furthest position.

"This is the new part, Augustus. Let me know if anything isn't relaxing," Ross said, his voice trained to be comforting and soothing.

Clients always showered before their sessions. A shower was in the facility if it was needed.

For the first time ever, legs spread, Augustus' anus was fully visible. Ross licked his lips, then started applying pressure to the inner thighs, very close to the spot. Massage techniques existed for every part of the body, but most clients would consider them inappropriate, being so close to such private parts of the body.

Ross had received approval, and continued. Augustus would moan or slightly adjust his body, but said nothing as Ross' fingers found forgotten flesh.

"How's that feeling, Augustus?" Ross ventured.

"Great, man. I didn't even know I had tension there," he said.

"Slide back a few inches, Augustus. I think you'd be more relaxed that way."

As he did, his dick came off the table and hung from his body. He sighed as Ross adjusted the headrest so Augustus would still be comfortable.

Ross worked toward Augustus' hole, watching the banker's cock gently sway from his crotch.

"This is a freeing position, Ross," Augustus said. "Incredible."

Ross was massaging between the hole and scrotum, applying a deep pressure, actually stimulating the prostate without penetrating the anus.

After about five minutes, the desired effect was noticed. Augustus horse-cock was slightly stiffer, and leaking precum. Without the cock being between Augustus' body and the table, the man wasn't noticing his excitement.

"I'd like to try some internal massages today, Augustus. These are considered unorthodox techniques, but they involve massaging the oral cavity, which would be your mouth, and your anal cavity. I think you'll find they are very relaxing techniques. I know you have a lot of tension these days.

"I use more than just my fingers for these techniques, but it's all natural. If you don't like it, of course, just say so and I'll stop."

"Ross, you're the professional here. You've never steered me wrong. Go right ahead."

Ross leaned in and grasped each butt check, leaned in more, sniffed, approved, and started licking the hairy ass. Augustus head shot out of the headrest, but he didn't protest. He did try moving forward, but Ross held his ass cheeks firmly, and kept the body in place.

Augustus started moaning. "Fuck, that's good!" his mind screamed. The tension started draining from his body almost immediately. Soon, Augustus was hovering between being awake and asleep as Ross continued tonguing the hot, hairy hole.

The horse cock was much stiffer, and precum just drooled.

The banker purred with relaxation, so Ross decided to up the ante, and slid a finger into the warm womb.

Again, Augustus tensed up, but relaxed again as he adjusted.

"Ross, that is...odd."

"Internal massage, Augustus. Just give me a bit more, and you'll see what I'm doing."

Ross had slid in the middle finger, the fuck finger, to find the banker's prostate.

He found the target and Augustus started a guttural moan, deep and pleasured, begging for more without an intelligible word.

The horse-cock was firm against the banker's abs; Augustus had hiked his butt several inches in the air, pushing back on the massaging finger.

"Yeah, Ross, massage me, man. Massage me!" Augustus cried, his penis firing its seed on the table, a few white pearls clinging to Augustus' chest.

The banker heaved a final release, then collapsed on the table, pulling the anus off Ross' finger.

"Lay and relax, Augustus," Ross soothed, placing warm, steamed towels atop the banker as his breathing returned to normal. "Just relax."

To be continued...

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Master Terra D masterterradil@yahoo.com