Mark has opened his massage therapy business about 8 months ago. It was a little rough in the beginning, and he'd had to take a second job during the day to make afford the flat he'd rented just outside the official boundaries of the city's urban gayborhood. But finally business had started to pick up about 4 months ago when he started advertising in the free weekly gay magazine that was distributed at all the bars, clubs and gay-friendly businesses.
This was no seedy baby-oil-rubdown and a hand job kind of place. Mark had taken night and weekend classes to earn his massage certification, interned at a day spa for 6 months, and finally took the leap to set up his own business.
The last two and half years had been full of changes for Mark. He'd come home from running an errand one evening to find his wife crying silently as she watched "Brokeback Mountain" on cable. She'd turned to him as he walked through the door, and with one look he knew that she knew his secret. "I guess I've known for a long time," she'd told him as they sat up late that night chatting and crying. "I just don't want what happened to him to happen to you."
Mark had moved into the spare bedroom at first and then into a friend's guest rental. Several weeks of tears and therapy and conversation had led him and his wife to the decision to go their separate ways. They sat down together to tell their two kids. One took it very well and the other wouldn't speak to Mark for close to a month. But despite all that initial pain, Mark felt like a huge weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders. His wife and his kids could see the change in his demeanor. He was nicer to be around and more patient. Finally after about three or four months, they all settled in to a sense of new normalcy.
Mark liked to tell people he started taking massage therapy classes because his friends had always told him he had a way with his hands when he'd given them friendly shoulder rubs. But that was only part of the reason. He also thought it would give him an opportunity to experience the intimacy of touching another man's bare skin -- even if there was no sexual or erotic contact involved.
It was a little awkward once his training shifted from theoretical to practical. He and his classmates would take turns either as the therapist or strip down to play the client. Mark hadn't been naked in front of anyone besides his wife, his doctor and his kids since his high school days. So laying half naked on the massage table while a classmate (whether male or female) rubbed massage oil into his furry skin wasn't super comfortable for him at first. But he got used to it.
He also hadn't realized how physically demanding massage therapy could be. His program offered a discounted rate at the local gym and suggested that the students work out regular to build their stamina. Mark had always been a big guy -- some might call him a bear. Once he started working out regularly, he firmed up in all the right places and slimmed down a bit in others. He started to feel less and less self-conscious as the "client" in class.
He'd initially feared what would happen if he got an erection during one of the massages. But the instructor had actually spent a good 15 minutes talking about that inevitability during one of their classes. "People can't control their body's physiological responses to stimulus. People will sweat, nipples will get hard, and penises will get erect," she'd said. "Just ignore it and eventually it'll go away. If the client touches themself or you in any inappropriate way, the massage is over."
Thankfully, Mark never did get hard during one of the massages -- at least not as a client. He had started to plump up a few times while giving a massage to one of his more attractive male classmates, but his Levi's concealed his arousal. He did have one of his classmates get an erection during the hands-on massage. He was rubbing lotion into the smooth chest of a 30-something guy named Gino. The sheet was pulled up just below Gino's navel as Mark massaged his pectorals when the tenting began. Mark noticed the slight movement at Gino's crotch, and as he kneaded more, he could see the outline of his penis as it firmed up and moved from a downward position to a prominent up position. Gino seemed oblivious to his arousal and simply sighed as Mark rubbed across his chest and down his abdomen. Eventually Gino became so hard that the sheet raised up enough for Mark to see the swollen head. Thankfully their table was set up in the corner of the room and Mark's body was blocking the exposure from the rest of the class. As they neared the end of the massage, Mark grabbed the top of the sheet on either side of Gino's hips, lifted it in the air for split second and then pulled it up to his clavicle. In that brief moment, Gino's naked body came into view and was etched into Mark's brain. Once he got home that night, with his Levi's, t-shirt and briefs in pile on the floor, Mark used the memory of that moment to bring himself to an explosive orgasm.
After finishing up his internship, Mark decided it was time for a fresh start. He quit his job of more than a decade, packed up a Uhaul, and moved an hour away into the city. The stars aligned and he found an apartment that was perfect for his business: an airy one-bedroom on the upper floor of an old building across the street from a park. The rent was a bit more than he'd anticipated, but he'd managed to get a part-time job at a chain home store nearby during the holidays.
His unit spanned the entire front of the building, so he had views of the park from every room. The best feature was a sun-room off the living room that featured glass on 3 sides. It was the perfect spot to set up his massage table. During the colder months, he strategically placed electric heaters to keep the area warm even when it was raining or snowing outside. And now that the weather had warmed up, he could open the windows and let the fresh breezes blow through.
Mark had slowly built a small, but steady clientele through word-of-mouth, referrals from physical therapists and chiropractors he'd connected with, and some moderately unsuccessful direct mail inserts. It was at a massage technique seminar he attended that another therapist he was chatting with suggested that he place an ad in the city's gay magazine. "I'm telling you, Mark," he'd said. "My bookings quadrupled after I started advertising in that rag. Sure, some of them ask for a happy ending. But I just tell them that's not how I work."
After a bit of unofficial research, Mark felt like he'd cracked the secret to the gay newspaper ads. Simple, minimal and tasteful text, a stock photo of a handsome shirtless guy receiving a massage, and a small inset photo of the massage therapist. Mark bought a form-fitting white tank top that showed off his chest hair, set up his camera on a tripod, and warmed up with 10 minutes of push-ups before taking a series of photos of himself. He settled on one with his arms folded across his chest in a manner that flexed his newly re-discovered biceps.
After submitting his photos and copy, Mark waited about 2 weeks for his ad to show up in the magazine. The next day, he received his first booking from the ad.
Stuart, a man in his early 60s, arrived on time and got undressed in the living room while Mark dimmed the lights and spread a clean sheet on his massage table. Stuart walked naked to the table and lay face down, and then Mark pulled a sheet over his legs and butt. He focused on his back for about 20 minutes and then spent another 10 on his legs, and then he held up the sheet and asked Stuart to flip over on his back.
Mark massaged his feet and the front of his legs, and then folded the sheet down over Stuart's crotch and legs to bare his chest and stomach. He methodically kneaded each of Stuart's arms and then pulled them both up over his head to stretch him out. As he did so, the sheet slipped down slightly and revealed the top of Stuart's pubic hair. Mark pulled the sheet back slightly at each hip as he replaced Stuart's hands under the sheet. As he proceeded to massage Stuart's chest and stomach, he could see the tell-tale signs of Stuart's arousal. His penis shifted under the sheet and then began to raise it up in much the same way that Gino's had. Mark tried to ignore the tenting as he neared the end of the massage by working his fingertips over Stuart's scalp. But he could see that Stuart had shifted one of his hands and was gently rubbing his cock under the sheet.
Although he wasn't really even that attracted to Stuart, at that moment he would have liked nothing more than to have peeled back the sheet and gone down on his erection. But he was so nervous about getting busted and losing his license.
"That's the end of our time," Mark said gently as he placed both palms on Stuart's chest. "I hope you enjoyed the massage."
Opening his eyes, Stuart looked up at Mark and smiled. "Thank you." Stuart sat up slowly and swung his legs off the edge of the table. The sheet just barely concealed his erection. "It was wonderful. You have great hands, Mark."
"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. If you'd like to wash off the massage oil, you're welcome take a shower. The bathroom is just down the hall," Mark offered warmly.
"I would," Stuart said pulling the sheet off. "As you can see, I very much enjoyed the massage."
Mark tried not to stare at Stuart's crotch. "That's no problem," he said blushing. "It happens all the time."
"Would you mind if..." Stuart said slowly, "If I took care of myself here?"
"Uh, well..." Mark stammered, surprised at the gentleman's request.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Stuart said looking down and feeling ashamed that he'd crossed the line. "I didn't mean to presume a happy ending. I just don't think I can go home like this."
Stuart seemed so earnest. Mark didn't have the heart to deny him. "No, it's fine, it's fine. Go ahead, take your time. I'll just go into the kitchen."
"Please don't," Stuart said. "I'd like you to watch me, if that's okay with you."
"Uh, sure," Mark replied, surprised at the words coming from his mouth.
Stuart rubbed his hand across his chest and stomach to collect some of the residual massage oil. And then he began to stroke his hard cock with one hand while he rubbed and pinched at his nipples with the other. It didn't take him long to reach the point of climax. He looked directly at Mark as he said quietly, "I'm cumming." As Mark looked on, Stuart shot several streams of semen onto his bare stomach and then, using the sheet, he quickly wiped up the sticky mess he'd created. Stuart smiled at Mark and said, "Thank you."
He arose from the table and headed down the hall to shower. After getting redressed, Stuart settled his bill using the new app Mark had downloaded on his iPad. Before signing his name on the screen, Stuart added a healthy tip to the total. "Thank you," Mark said as Stuart departed. "I look forward to seeing you again."
Alone again in the apartment, Mark grabbed his laundry basket and went to grab the sheets off the massage table. He could smell the unmistakable aroma of Stuart's semen. Mark slipped out of his massage uniform and placed his clothes in the basket. Now completely naked, he sat himself on the massage table and brought the sheet to his face. He inhaled the lingering smell of Stuart's orgasm and rubbed the remaining sticky wetness into his face as he began to massage his cock, which had been hard as a rock since he caught site of Stuart tenting the sheet. Within a few minutes, Mark's heart was racing and he was spewing his own sticky load all over his furry stomach.
Tossing Stuart's sheets in the laundry basket with his clothes, Mark headed down the hall to the bedroom and crawled into his bed -- still naked, his cock softening, his stomach covered in his own load and his face in Stuart's.