Under no circumstances are less than 18 year olds welcome.
I do feature articles for a national gay publication. I'll weenie out by not giving the name. After all getting fired or sued is no fun.
My editor, a hoary, gray haired survivor of the old school of journalism called me into his office. "You know," he began even before I sat down, "We are a publication that is conservative, even though we slant our articles and reports to the gay community. I"m taking a flier here in assigning you a very flagrant idea for a story." He handed me a downloaded printout of a Web Site called: "Hand Jobs and More" There were no sexy pictures just text telling how many men come to his establishment, considering his treatments as they would a massage. He gives a phone number for more information. He describes himself as in his late twenties, a former college quarterback.
"What do you think?" growled Wally.
"It could be so hot, we couldn't print it, or it could turn out to be a legitimate idea that this guy has thought up. It's of today, you know, safe sex. I'll check it out."
I called from my desk. The phone was answered by a husky jocky voice. Must be the ex footy. I asked for an appointment to interview him. "Okay, but you have to pay the rate anyway. It's $50.00 for the basic half hour."
I was taken aback, but I figured this was the only way of getting in to see him. I agreed. Appointment set up for early next morning. My friend on the other end of the phone said that early morning was slow. Most customers came in at the end of the work day or lunch time.
His "den" of wanking was on the sixteenth floor of an office building. With people coming and going the lobby was busy and I imagined that this worked perfectly for guys who wanted to keep their activities quiet. His office was right across from the elevator. The glass door frankly stated "Hand Jobs and More." I wondered if others on the floor thought that he was some sort of artist or sculptor. Well in some ways he was.
A recorded voice addressed anyone who opened the door: "Please be seated, I will be with you shortly." I noticed there was no other door and wondered how a client felt leaving with others waiting here. They got those "I know what you did looks, I bet." Later I found out that Bill, the Hand Jobber thought this out and there was an exit door to the hall that avoided the waiting room.
I sat down on one of the modern chairs. I noticed a stack of papers in a tray and a sign in front, "Take One". The handout turned out to be the rules of the house. I give you an idea below:
No sex with me, don't ask
No raunch or urine
No time extension, no cum sorry
You cum--you leave,
The name is Hand Jobs, don't ask for more
Only one client at a time, no partners
I follow absolute germ free methods
Gloves and disposal sheets necessary
There was more, but that gives you the main points. If a client was looking for love, this was not the place. If he sought a clean businesslike release, this was it.
A moment later a door opened up and a young guy wearing a short sleeve sweat top and shorts. With his bulky athetic figure, he looked like he was on his way to practice. He had strong forearms and powerful legs. He was generally handsome in a military poster boy way. You know, square face, light colored brown hair cut marine style, big shoulders. "Hi," he said in that high husky voice I heard on the telephone. "You are Jack, I take it. I'm Bill. Come in." He reached out a ham hand and enveloped mine for a long squeeze. All the time he stared at me as if to read my thoughts. I thought Bill to be a very powerful personality and I would have to maintain my objectivity for this interview.
The examining room, I don't know what else to call it, consisted of a inclinable table, rolling stool and a small desk in the corner. I saw a glove dispenser box and a stack of paper sheets. The shelf over the sink contained various bottles, oil etc I figured.
I hoisted myself up on the table, my legs on the floor. This seemed the only seat, other than the stool.
I took out a tape recorder. "This okay with you?"
"Sure, but no names or address to be mentioned in the article...and no phone number."
I agreed. I cleared my throat. "Are you gay?"
"Sorry I answer no personal questions, especially about sexual orientation. If I told a client I was straight, he might be inhibited. If I said I was gay, he might feel his masculinity is threatened. While the activity here is sexual, it is very limited emotionally. This enables a client to feel that he is merely seeking physical relief, not a boy friend. My clients soon realize that I am no rent boy."
"Thanks for the long answer. That saves several questions. Now to get specific: I read your info sheet in the waiting room, but I, I'm going to be frank, don't think a guy who is a professional wanker would get most guys off."
"That may be true, but I refer you to the phrase in our name "and more". The more is my special ability to couple direct stimulation with additional attention to other areas that I find is very sexual to the client. Everyone has different places, but I pride myself on finding them very quickly. Some people give hints even before the procedure begins, like yourself."
"Me?"
"Yes, I observed you in the waiting room in the two way mirror. When you sat down you lifted your ball sack. I would guess that you like your balls played with or some activity involving them."
"Maybe," I said embarrassed. Now they were out of position, but under no circumstance would I make an adjustment now. "Does the client need be nude?"
"Most prefer to be. That mirror there appeals to the visual in guys seeing themselves stimulated and brings quicker results. However, some men just want to drop trou or even just open their fly. It is possibility that form of undress is exciting to them. I let them take the lead on that."
"Do you ever become excited during your "treatments?"
" Sometimes I get an erection, but I never have no wish to have sex with my clients. I am too busy trying to give them a great time and a powerful orgasm."
"Can you describe some actual client visits."
"Sure, but of course no real names."
Here is some of the examples he gave. I found them pretty exciting and I was hard as a rock during this.
BILL'S CASES
Gary was probably the youngest client I ever had. He was just legal 18. A shy nerdy kid, but not unattractive. He was tall, about six feet five with a rather large nose. His mouth was pretty. He was afraid or nervous about undressing, but as the session went on, he dropped one article of clothing at a time. His penis was really long and very thin. It was at least eight inches. He was circumcised which gave his organ the look of a lollipop on a stick. Like other cases of long cocks, he didn't obtain a stiff erection. It drooped downward. Like most younger guys, he had poor ejaculation control and I figured he would be done in five minutes tops.
He stood up in front of me, he apparently preferred for me to fish for his cock. I unzipped him and exacted the long organ. Almost immediately he began to huff and puff. I thought he would cum right then but somehow he controlled himself. He kept his eyes closed and wouldn't look at me. I talked to him about how nice he looked, especially when he took off his shirt. His top body was pure smooth white, very nice. Two shell pink nipples were thrust out in excitement. I touched one. He quickly pushed my hand away. "That's too queer," he said.
Pretty soon he was weaving back and forth, almost like he was fucking. I encouraged him to take off his shoes and pants. His young feet were excellent, slim toes and a high arch. His legs were almost hairless except for light downy shins and later the same on his inner thighs. Because he was moving in and out I put a hand just above his boyish ass, that spot at the base of the spine. He jumped and moaned loudly. I stroked the area which had a faint growth of fine black hair like his beard. Now he was really moaning . He called to me in a muffled voice: " Stroke me real fast back there and wank me hard and fast. " Wow my young friend was giving orders. Strange how guy's sexual personality can be very different to their day to day self. Pretty soon he opened his eyes. He grabbed my hand and tried to make it move quicker. I took his hand away. Remember I don't allow touching. Pretty soon he was crying in pleasure, but didn't cum. I leaned over and whispered in his ear. "It's okay Gary. You can cum now." That was it. The amount of spunk was amazing. That's youth. He never returned. I think this gave him something to use when he had sex.
Nat was in his late forties, a beautiful guy, trim and muscular. He played sports every day and it showed. He was divorced for six months. He hoped to get back with his wife and didn't date. He resumed his kid stuff, as he explained it, but the cum was not satisfactory and left him still wanting more. He told me about sex with his wife. "I would cum so hard I couldn't speak or move for a long time." He wanted a world rock. He got completely undressed immediately. His cock was about six and a half inches, very thick, with a hanging foreskin forming a puckering mouth. He lay back on the table. That was unusual since most guys felt too exposed. His cock was flaccid. I stroked it, shook it but it hardly reacted. "Am I doing something wrong?" I asked. He told me that his wife usual sucked him to a hard on and then they fucked. I explained that I can't do that but I will try to simulate it. I have this warm sponge lined device that simulates a mouth. I slipped it over his limp cock and turned on the switch. His eyes opened and he smiled, then he began to breath loudly. He kept saying "Yeah,". His cock quickly grew. I began to shag him, still keeping the device working on the upper part. His legs lifted and he was fucking my hand. I never changed speed though I knew he wanted me to. Finally he was gasping and thrusting so I took pity and tightened my grip and speed. He let out a howl and came hard and heavy. Afterward he was almost in a faint. I let him recover but it delayed me for the next person.
Piu was Asian as you might guess. He was a beautiful looking guy, small in stature, smooth and golden tan with a smallish penis topped by stiff upstanding pubic hair. He was reluctant to undress. He opened his fly and extracted his small soft penis. "Too small?" he said. I told him that it was a fine penis and he should show it proudly. I told him that it can bring him much pleasure. He sighed and smiled. He was a very likable man. At thirty he looked like fifteen, especially when he smiled. I took hold of it and gently held it. He took a sharp intake of breath. I think he was shocked to feel another's hand on his treasure. I flicked my thumb over the now emerging head. He allowed another one of those charming sighs to escape. "Bill" he called. "I shouldn't be doing this. Do you think I am bad?" Well that was a hint a big as a barn. He wanted to be disciplined. Well I don't do S&M but I will help out a guy to have his climax. He had the cutest perky ass, skin incredibly smooth. I slapped one dimpled check, no hard. He gasped in pleasure. "More, more." he pleaded. I gave a smarter open handed wack. It actually produced a blush on the perfect check. He sagged a bit and began mewling and his mouth was working. His sloe eyes looked wild and moved back and forth. Suddenly he let out a real wild cry, almost a jungle cry, his cock in my hands began to shoot. He really shot, must have been five times, even the last shot was copious. He leaned back into my arms and I lifted him and put him on the examination table and covered him. The man was zonked. Finally he got up slowly and shook my hands. "Very nice," he said and bowed to me. "You do this again tomorrow?"
The last case he told me about was not so pleasant:
Oscar was a big construction dude, big and wide, incredible muscles. I was a little edgy about him as he could break me like a twig. He kept smiling as I told him to undress. "No undress. I put my pants down. You get busy and earn your money." I don't like that attitude. It signals problems, but you never know. Maybe this was his way of getting himself hot. He pushed his lower body toward me. I reached out and took hold of his big fat, somewhat unwashed cock. "You like that you pig, you queer." I still did not worry yet./ This could be his way of stimulating himself, but when he put his hands on the top of my head and ripped off my face protector (You know that is a way of avoiding cold germs etc. so my clients do not have to worry that they will get a cold here.) He pressed me against his pubic area. I was smothering. There was nothing I could do so I made a pretext of preparing to do the deed but with my right hand I reached for the hypo I always keep at the ready in case of just this sort of problem. I jabbed his hip. He exclaimed in pain and then sort of collapsed on top of me. He was heavy. I extricated myself, pulled his pants up then dragged his limp body out the exit door and left him propped up against the wall. This shot was an animal tranquilizer and I use a very low diluted dose. I figured that he'd wake up and be too disoriented to attach me from the front door. I never saw him again.
When Bill finished relating the last case he leaned back on the stool and clasped his hands around his bare knee and stared at me. "Jack, you have been breathing pretty hard during my stories and your face is flushed. I think you are brimming."
"What's brimming?"
"It's my own word for a certain feeling. When you are building up a sexual feeling, you body begins to get ready to ejaculate, even a long time before it occurs. The testicle sack thickens, the whole thing is more sensitive, your sperm reservoir begins to fill, your lips become fuller and sensitive also. Finally the eyes tell most, they narrow and become slightly moist. You look that way now. You still have time left on the meter. Do you want a demonstration?"
"Eh, I'm really tempted. I am a bit horny, but it doesn't seem very professional to use your services."
He leaned close to me and his thick soft voice almost crooned to me. "You are more than tempted. You know you can't walk out of here without relief. It makes sense. You want it and you deserve it.:
I sighed in compliance. He was right. I was really sexed up. He got up, helped me off the examining table and I stood there, my cock pushing my dress pants out grotesquely. He grabbed a paper sheet from the supply and spread it on the table. He took hold of my shoulder and sat me back down. I felt like a little boy being handled by the doctor. Next he went to a control panel near the door and dimmed the lights and snapped on a faint recording of relaxing music. Now I was feel both sleepy and sexy. This was quite an experience. He slipped on plastic gloves. They were so sheer that his hands were visible as if he was bare. Next he crooned at me: "Would you like to undress? I can help you if you wish." I shrugged my shoulders. It was like bedtime, I was six years old enjoying ceding my independence to this handsome, strong compelling man. He unbutton my dress shirt and let it slip off my shoulders. "Ah, your chest is very attractive. May I touch you there?" I nodded in a zonked way. He circles my nipples in a rapid arc, back and forth. I gasped and took a deep shaky breath. I could see his smile through the plastic face covering. His voice came through other worldly and almost alien. I was very pleased, like a kid, that he liked my chest. "Can we slip off your loafers? I see you are wearing no socks." I shook my lower legs and the loafers fell on the floor. I wiggled my toes like I was dipping them into the kiddie pool. As you reached down to take off my pants he lifted one foot. He smelled it. "Ah, like perfume. Perfectly shaped toes and instep. You are a beauty all over, but let's get to the hidden self." I tensed. This next move was the total commitment to his control. My pants slid down. ;"Oh, you have been hiding some treasurers. How did you get such powerful calves and full thighs. The delicate fine hair on them is intoxicating. May I stroke your upper legs??
His hand stroked up and down, bumping into the swollen pouch of my briefs which was already damp and translucent where the point of my cock rested. I could smell the faint odor of pre cum.
He reached for the elastic band of my briefs but I crossed my hands over the waist. I was beginning to feel like a rape was happening. "Oh, he purred into my ear. Don't be afraid boy, give in to what you want, want I can do for you."
I uncrossed my arms and he reached immediately for the top of my underwear and slid it down my legs and onto the floor. A hot smell came off my cock. He inhaled deeply. "May I touch it?"
"No," maybe we should stop.
"If you wish, but instead, let me touch your ball sack."
I knew I was sunk. He lifted my low hanging scrotim as if he was weighing it. This made me dizzy and I fell back on the table. "Yes, so soft, so pink and hairless. I can see two big prunes moving around inside. They want you to enjoy this."
"Do whatever you want. I have to cum or I will not be able to face the rest of the day. You are a devil."
His fingers now moved in a gentle scratching motion behind my balls. It was so exciting. I heard moans and grunts. It was me. My head was reeling.
"May I touch your cock now?"
"Yes, yes, fucking get me off."
"Now, now, don't get nasty. I only want you to enjoy yourself boy."
He cupped his fingers over the front, wrapping a;round my retracted foreskin and moving almost imperceptibly. I pushed up, trying to get more feeling from his fingers. He gripped a little tighter and stroked a bit faster. I was gasping in choking sobs. I was hanging there, right on the edge. It was delicious agony. I should have cum but something was holding me back. I think I didn't want to give him the ultimate control by having deliver my load via his agency.
He began to croon in my ear again. "Boy, you know you want to cum, to spew out your thick spooge and get that wonderful feeling. Just relax, stop fighting me."
I was twisting around on the table trying to stop myself from obeying him, but them diabolically he knew the key. He took a pinch of flesh from the bottom of my ball sack and pulled it firmly away from my body. I howled, almost in anger. Then I felt my thighs tensing and shaking. My cock seemed to get harder and longer. My hips lifted. "You fucking bastard, you did it," I said in a choked voice as I went into automatic pilot. My hips fucked the air and my cock fucked his curled hand. He pulled over and over and then the flood gates opened. I shot over his mask, over his gloved hands and on his sweatshirt. Over and over I shouted my cum howl and delivered thick sum over everything in front of me.
Finally I quieted down. Bill went to the sink and wet a warm towel. He wiped himself and me. I kept my eyes closed, almost slipping into sleep. Finally I cleared my throat and started to get up. He helped me. I dressed. Soon we were in the same positions as before. I snapped off the recorder.
"You think it's worth $50.? He asked, smiling.
"Yes, but if a guy jerks off, that is the ultimate rejection of others. Here in this room your client relinquishes his very soul to you. I'm not sure if I would want to experience this again."
He voice sunk again into the blurry soft sound. "They almost always come back. I think you will too."
"Maybe so, but I doubt it. Got to go now." I reached out my hand and he took mine in two warm large hands and squeezed. "I enjoyed spending this time with you. You are one of a kind and I know you will call me."
I shrugged and left by the hall exit. The elevator opened and a young guy looking embarrassed to meet my eye hurried into the door of the Hand Job expert. I felt drained and tired but I think I was getting hard again.
End
Is there such a place? Could you make money at it? I think it's legal. I have to say that not many people know how to get someone off as well as they do themselves.