travis mccaig pushed against the ropes that tied down his wrists. He sighed. He did that a lot- sighing and pushing against the ropes. It never did any good. Early after they had started "dating," Jason had told him he "tied a knot like a Boy Scout," and while travis had never been a boy scout, it sure seemed to him that Jason did a good job. He heard Jason's footsteps, as the young man walked back into the bedroom. When he left, he had been dressed. Now, he was naked, and the snake that was his 9.5 inch cock, stood out in front of him. travis had come to know that cock very well. "Mmmm. Hot Daddy," Jason said in a voice bordering on a whisper. travis was already so eager, and so horny, that Jason's hand nearly set him off when he stroked travis' tight fitting gray t shirt. (Usually, Jason instructed him to wear white, but he had said tonight was a "special night."). That hand moved down and teased the button of travis' worn 501 jeans. He began to whimper. Jason smiled. "My hot Daddy wants boy cock, doesn't he?" While Jason's fingers worked on the button his palm rested directly on travis' crotch, which was ready to explode. "Yyyyyy... yes. Yes Sir. I want it. I need it. I don't deserve it, but please young Master... Please fill my ass with your cock." Jason chuckled. "You remember the first time you said that, you silver fox? You remember when I flipped your topman ass and.. began training you?" Jason opened the button. "Yyyyyes sir. Yes. I do. I was reluctant, but..." "But I taught you what you really needed. You know..." He pressed his palm on travis' crotch until travis moaned . "That blond sissy faggot as your wife put it. If she only knew that blond sissy faggot fucks her husband at least twice a week. And this week..." His hand moved up and began tracing a circle around travis' left nipples. "Probably three times, maybe four."
"Mmmm. Hot Daddy" was the first thing Jason had ever said to travis, except travis didn't know it was Jason who said it. He and his wife had moved to warmer climates after the stock that they had held onto for over 25 years had jumped so much in value, their planner told them it didn't make sense to hold onto it anymore: it could only go down. (While that wasn't true, they made a true killing in the market). Helen had always been a homemaker, and travis had taught school - American History - since he finished his degree. Helen hated the cold weather, but they lived north because that was where travis got his first job. Despite Helen's repeated pleas that they move someplace warmer, travis always deferred. "I like it up north" he said. Mostly, though, he liked it up north because it was easier for him to step out and satisfy his gay side - a part of him that had gotten bigger, and bigger, since they had moved. Helen seemed to settle into the lifestyle of a southern "woman of means and a certain age" right away. travis had more difficulty. He was bored. While not truly an academic, being around people who also taught was something he enjoyed. That was gone, and he just didn't get the intricacies of the social rules and "castes" that existed here, even more strongly than where he had lived and taught. Being without a job left him with so much free time. He hated golf. He hated fishing. He hated much of what men of his age and wealth did for relaxation. He had the gym though. He had always LOVED the gym, and it showed. travis also devoured physical fitness magazines and books, followed more websites about health and muscle building than you could imagine, and only craved more. He was muscular in a mature way, and his body fat content was way lower than the average. As he got older, he became more physically fit than he had been. If he said "I'm in the best shape of my life," he meant it. In this warmer weather, he almost always dressed in a tight t shirt and jeans, and he got looks from ALL quarters: women his wife's age, younger women and - much to his surprise - from more than one man. He had been propositioned by guys a few times, but he had turned them down as graciously as he could. I mentioned travis' "gay side." That "gay side" was all theoretical: when he moved to the south, travis was a gay virgin. Yes he and his wife had enjoyed a very active sexual life when they were younger, even if travis frequently thought of his ideal fantasy date: a young man, light haired, playing with his nipples until travis shoved him to his knees and ordered him to suck his cock. It had never happened when he was teaching: the risk was too great. Now, at 55, he thought he was too old. Then, that stray remark at the gym. He had been tying his shoes when he heard it. By the time he looked up, whomever had said it was gone. The gym was busy: it was near the university, and also the white collar section of the town where he and Helen had moved to, and it seemed to be filled with men in their 20s and 30s, and an occasional "geezer" of over 40 and - GASP - the even rarer man travis' age. He knew guys stared at him. He looked up occasionally when he "felt" someone checking him out, and would smile as he saw the whiplash neck turn back to look in front of him. So he missed the guy who said it. Well, that meant, "doing the laundry" for Helen that day. "Doing the laundry" was his code for - you'll find out. See, since they weather was almost always warm enough to do it, Helen liked to hang their laundry to dry in the sun. To be sure, they didn't have much, since travis wore essentially the same thing every day, and Helen's outfits mostly went to the dry cleaner since she was "socializing" most of the day. travis offered to "help her with the housework, " which was kind of funny, since she didn't do much of it. If he "did the laundry" though, he had access to his favorite thing besides chat rooms: clothes pins. As soon as he got in the laundry room, travis would peel off his t shirt, grab a couple, and attach one to each nipple. Then he'd play with them, "twanging" them in turn, while he stroked himself onto one of his used t shirts. Once, when no one was looking, he had stolen someone's errant jock strap at the gym. He sometimes used that to jerk off. He imagined it belonged to some hot, blond tennis player from the university who had left it behind after he had sucked off travis twice. Keeping quiet, if Helen was home, was always a challenge.
In addition to that, travis spent time "researching" he told his wife. His "research" was playing in chat rooms, under a password that Helen would never guess: the name of a Roman general rumored to have been gay and having a penchant for young blond men. He had mentioned the name to a few of the guys with who he chatted, and only one of them had heard of the general. Not surprisingly, the guy said he was an Assistant Professor of Classics, in the same situation as travis was. He was 36 - too old for travis' fantasy, so travis had graciously deflected the overtures that they meet "so your Daddy cock can pound the crap out of my bony ass," as "mike" had written. After he had turned "mike" down, he never heard from him again. That happened a lot. travis was fearful of sending photos of himself - even faceless ones - because they might wind up in Helen's hands. If she divorced him, which was likely because of her homophobic views - she'd undoubtedly get half of the assets, and that would mean an end to the comfortable lifestyle he DID have. So he had resolved himself to chats that didn't go anywhere, checking out porn sites, ogling guys at the gym, and jerking off with his improvised nipple clamps. "Why don't you just tell your wife that you injured yourself at the gym, and you're going to see a massage therapist?" one guy suggested while they were chatting. "A massage therapist? Aren't they all women?" "LOL" came back the answer. "You really ARE new to this aren't you?" "Uh, yeah, I really am. I missed about 40 years of being gay and everything I knew... " "You sure you're gay?" "No." "LOL. Well you can still get a man to give you a 'massage'. You just have to ask for extras or more likely, they'll ask you. Google 'full release' and massage and gay and see what you find. " "Thanks. I appreciate it bud," travis wrote back. The guy was another one he never heard from again. He did google as the guy suggested. His mouth dropped. "HOLY...." And yes, the phrase "full release" showed up in a lot of them, usually as "full release available". He wondered if that meant a blow job, or just jerking off. He learned fast, especially when he contacted some of the guys and began "getting massage therapy." Helen's response was very brusque. "Just make sure you don't dip into capital and maybe next time, don't work out so damn hard." travis had to admit that getting "release" from the masseurs was enjoyable, but he always closed his eyes because, well, the guys didn't really meet his fantasy. Most of them weren't willing to play with his nipples when they jerked him off, and fewer were willing to blow him instead of jerking him. He eventually settled on one guy who had a "deft hand" so to speak with jerking him, could be "persuaded" with an extra 100 bucks to blow travis occasionally, and actually even gave a good massage. He was 21: he had gotten his license when he was 19, and he did this to pay tuition. travis saw him once or maybe twice a week until "Bruce" (that's the only name travis knew), finished school, and was heading out of state. "This is our last one, Daddy travis," Bruce had smiled when they met for their final massage. "It's on the house." Bruce pulled out all the stops. Yes, he did this for a "living," but he had come to really like this somewhat goofy, somewhat nerdy, somewhat scared, but always polite, daddy type. travis wanted to hug him at the end, but instead, he got dressed, shook Bruce's hand, told him to "take care of himself," and left 5 100 dollar bills on the table at the door to Bruce's studio. Then things got dry. REALLY dry. travis couldn't "do laundry" often enough, and he couldn't find a masseur that came close to meeting his "needs." Then one day, he saw a new ad on the masseur website he checked out at least twice a day. "Hey, I'm Jason. I'm new to town and I'm trying to augment my income. If you wanna help, and you'd like a certified masseur to show you what massage is all about, then... give me a call." The photo showed a young, muscular blond guy. Blue eyes. The faintest wisp of a moustache. "He's probably too expensive" travis thought, but after clicking on Jason's profile two or three times a day, he gulped, and sent an email. "Hey. I'm interested in your massage services. I wonder if you do full release. Older in shape guy here. Let me know. Tarz." (Tarz was travis' screen name. He was too scared to use his real name). He got an answer back the next day. "Hey Tarz (if that's your real name). I LOVE helping older guys get in shape. Services? I don't discuss them via email. If you decide you're interested, let's set up an appointment, and we'll talk. Jason." travis felt his cock harden the way it did with the clothespins. He got back in touch with Jason and, after some back and forth, they made an appointment for 4pm that Thursday. Jason told him to bring comfortable clothes, and to plan to spend between 1.5 and 2 hours because he wanted to get to know travis better in case they did start working with each other. travis thought this guy sounded way more confident than the other masseurs did (he admitted to 27 years, and travis later found out he was 29). It was a very nervous, sort of closeted man who knocked on the door of Jason's studio that Thursday. "He's a god," went through travis' mind. Something different went through Jason's head. "It's the hot daddy at the gym. THANK YOU JESUS." "Nice to meet you travis. Come on in. Let's talk." "That voice. Sounds familiar but...." travis couldn't place it. "Now, just to be clear, travis, something that is different about the way I work and other masseurs, is that I work in the nude." He laughed. "There's no extra charge for that, I just find that clothes impede my movements. I can't give my clients my best if I have clothes on. If that bothers you, I can stay dressed, but I'll give you a better massage if I don't." travis grinned sheepishly. "Oh, I don't mind an attractive man walking around nude." He blushed. "I mean, I studied ancient history and...." he blushed some more. "I'm not very good at this. I'm sorry." Jason laughed. "No, no, the idea of your masseur being naked takes a lot of people by surprise. Would you rather I just worked shirtless?" "NO. I mean, I want the best you can give me." "Oh, you'll get that good looking," Jason thought to himself. "One last thing Jason. Do you do 'full release' massage. Jason smiled. "Well, tell you what travis? I DO, but only once a day, and I already did once today. If you like what I do, and you come back, I'll save it for you" travis was confused. He only jerked a guy off once a day? "Ok. I'm game for at least a session. " Jason gave travis one of the best massages he had ever gotten. Part of it, in fact, most of it, as travis thought about it, was how Jason's voice had almost crooned while he worked. He spoke in hushed tones about travis' "studly chest," and his "incredible legs" and "glutes of Zeus." He had travis so hot that, at the end, when a towel brushed travis' penis, he shot. "OH MY GOD I'M SORRY JASON. I .. I .." Jason began laughing. "Don't be sorry, travis. I was beginning to think I had lost my touch. I mean, you seemed very tight and very nervous . I hope I didn't intimidate you." "No, it's not that, it's just... well, you said you only do full release once a day and then...." Jason smiled, and he shook his head. "You know, I should know better. I apologize to you travis. We all use these expressions that we all think everyone understands and, that's when the problems start. I probably meant something different about full release than you did. See..." He held out his cock and travis could see what a long, beautiful thing it was. "Clients who come to me and want full release, usually want ME to cum for them. Usually they suck me, and... while it would have been a thrill to have your mouth on my cock, someone had climaxed me two hours ago and... I just can't recover as quickly as I used to." "Oh..." travis sounded disappointed. "You wanted me to suck you, didn't you, stud?" Blushing, travis shook his head yes. Jason draped an arm around him. "Listen up handsome. You said you're new to this. So you should review what being active and passive is" "I know what that is," travis answered, somewhat defensively. "Ok, ok. No insult meant, Sir. I just brought it up to explain: I'm only an active partner. Ever." "Always?" travis asked "Always" Jason answered. There was a big sigh from travis "Listen you silver fox." travis smiled when Jason said that. "I have no problem jerking you off. NONE. I do a good job too. But if you want your masseur to blow you, well.. sorry, I'm not the man. "I understand." travis looked down. "I have to think about this. A lot. " "Did you enjoy the massage travis?" He felt Jason squeeze his neck. "I did. I loved the environment, everything about it. " "Well, good. I'm glad. Try to push the negativity out of your mind. And yeah, think about it. I'm not going anywhere and... truth to be told, travis, I have a soft spot for silver foxes like you. I'll always find time in my schedule for you." travis wanted to cry. He grabbed his clothes and got dressed. "See ya Jason." He left money on the counter after he dressed, and hurried out. "A new bottom is born," Jason snickered after travis left. He made a bet with himself: he'd have travis' ass in six months. It only took three.