Hot Slavic Hands
"So where are you?"
"Down in lower Manhattan. I could be uptown in a half hour."
"But I mean, you're coming, right? I mean some guys make appointments and they don't show. You know. It's just that I don't know you."
"Oh, no. If I say I'll be there, I will. Is six o'clock okay, then?"
"Well, I guess so. I mean you're definitely coming?"
"Yeah, yeah. Definitely I can leave right now."
The ad had said Hot Slavic Hands. Sounds intriguing. It has been running for months. So the guy is not a fly by night. He's a New Yorker in the business. I walk into the small apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. The door is opened by a short, slight man of about 35 or 40 years. He is wearing loose fitting cotton pants, and nothing else. Except a bandanna tied around his head in the manner of a construction worker seeking to keep the midday sun off his head. Odd touch, but not unattractive. As I undress, I look at the bandanna and notice that it fits tightly on to a perfectly round pate. I decide that the guy is probably bald and self conscious about it.
It is practically dark in the apartment. There are no lights on. At least no electric lights. Since it is winter time there is little natural light coming into the apartment. The two windows in the living room have shades pulled down. There are candles burning everywhere. Small candles, big votive type candles, candles surrounded by glass globes, and stubby candles sitting in dishes. All colors. Flickering, making designs and casting shadows on the walls as I strip. This guy has some flair. He tries anyway. No wonder he wanted to be sure I was going to show up. He seems to go to a lot of trouble in preparation for a client. There is a single bed against the wall with a plastic covering and a smaller cloth sheet thrown on top. A small table next to the bed holds three or four plastic bottles of stuff, probably oils.
"So do you work down on Wall Street?" Josef, the owner of the hot slavic hands, asks.
I am taken aback by the question. Oh, I guess because I said I was calling from downtown, and I'm wearing a suit.
"No, actually not, but not far from there." I say. I am now completely nude and point questioningly toward the bed. Josef nods yes. I walk over to the bed, and now having been to a number of masseurs I know the drill. So I stretch out on my stomach. They always do the back and ass first.
Josef strips off his slacks, and is wearing a white jock strap. He has a nice tight slim muscular body. He slowly and expertly begins to massage my shoulders and we talk. I tell Josef that I am looking for a steady type of arrangement with a masseur. You know, something at a reasonable cost every week or two. He is very interested. For steady customers he has a special rate, and he immediately lowers his fee by $20 from what he had asked on the phone.
After finishing my back, butt and the backs of my legs and arms, he asks me to turn over. He has been lying near me but is careful to keep my hands at my sides, replacing them a few times, whenever I raise a hand to brush against his leg or ass. He controls the massage strictly, not allowing any hanky panky and keeping his jock on. But I get the feeling that he will eventually loosen up. I notice several gay porno tapes on the stand next to the TV and ask about them. Does he ever use them with clients? What kind does he like? I notice that one has a photo on the jacket of a leatherman scowling menacingly at a cowering young man who is tied up in straps and chains. Josef admits to being a collector and says that he likes all kinds of videos. No, he doesn't show them to clients. They are for his own personal pleasure. He doesn't hide them, but his massages are strictly professional. My heart sinks.
Josef announces that we are halfway through, and he takes a break as he instructs me to turn over. He goes into the kitchen and pours some juice offering me some. I refuse and he returns carrying a small cup and chats amiably.
"So, now I guess you want your nuts licked, right?" he asks with a smile.
The question throws me off balance. From the proper massage thus far to this provocative question is quite a leap. I laugh uncomfortably, and Josef rejoins me on the bed. The massage heats up now at a rapid pace. Josef is rubbing my tits and now he is climbing on top of me, and rubbing his whole body up and down my torso. I love it as our hard cocks touch and twitch. My neurotic fear of disease is still intact however as I wonder in the midst of this pleasure whether I am likely to get crabs from this hairy writhing masseur. Now Josef begins to lick my balls and slowly takes my hard cock into his mouth. It feels wonderful and I don't have the resolve to tell him to stop. After a very short time, I feel the cum rising from my balls.
"Uh, oh. Watch it. I think I'm gonna come."
He removes the dick from his mouth and scolds me as though something unexpected was happening.
"Careful. Careful. You must be very careful. You can't come in my mouth!"
"Well, I know. That's why I said something."
My balls settle down and just a little dribble escapes from my dickhole.
"You see," I try to explain to him. "I'm very nervous about all of this. I usually don't even go this far. I just expected you to jerk me off. I'm used to being very safe."
I go into my schpiel about being married, being ultra cautious, etc. Oh, he is perfectly clean and safe he assures me. He has just been tested for HIV and is negative. He gets tested regularly he reports.
"It's okay. What we did is fine. You just shouldn't come inside anybody's mouth, and you can't fuck without a condom of course," he instructs. "I know about all this stuff," he goes on. "Because, well, you see this work is also my fun now. I don't go to the sex spots anymore. I quit all that. My clients are now my income and my sex life too."
He is standing up finishing the juice that he had put down earlier. I tell him that I didn't come all the way, but just a little.
"Oh, okay. We can take care of that."
He puts down the glass again, and is back on the bed. Now he faces me in a sixty nine position, and strips off his jockstrap. He clearly is expecting me to jump at the opportunity to suck him, now that he has explained how healthy it is. But, still cautious, I only masturbate him, praise the beauty of his cock, and play with his ass, which is very nice. Following my lead, he doesn't go down on me again, but jerks me off slowly. I come first; this time a full satisfying come. Josef starts to quickly masturbate himself, and then after several minutes announces that he can't come. I say that it's okay and we both get up.
Josef ushers me into the bathroom and invites me to shower. He has wicker shelves filled with big fluffy striped towels. I appreciate the offer and take a long, warm, soapy shower. The candles continue to flicker as I take my leave from this masseur who aims to please.