My sports massage Arriving with a feeling of anticipation, and a little apprehension, I hesitate briefly before knocking. Opening the door, you greet me with a warm, friendly smile and invite me in. You’re wearing a close fitting masseur’s tunic, which zips up at the front and reaches down to just below your hips, but intriguingly, as far as I can tell, not much else. “Hi, you’re here for a massage right?” you ask. “Yes” I reply, "you said that you do sports massages”. You nod and add, “I remember . . . so do you have any areas that require my special attention?” “Well, I have been getting a lot of stiffness lately . . .“ I respond. “Oh really . . . where?” you inquire as you flash me a cheeky smile. “My thighs” I reply . . .” I been doing a lot of cycling”. “Oh, I see. Well, I think I can help you with that” you remark, adding “I don’t do many ‘sports massages”. “OK, come along then . . . let’s see if I can help bring you some relief.” As I follow you through to the massage room I can’t take my eyes off your attractive bottom, which is barely covered by your short tunic. Entering the room I notice that it is warm, clean and spells pleasantly of incense. Closing the door behind us you tell me to undress. You don’t seem to be in any hurry and leave me standing self-consciously in my underwear as you arrange the massage oils and tidy the couch. Passing in front of me you ‘accidently’ drop a small towel on the floor and I feel a twinge of embarrassment as you bend over to pick it up and flash your panties at me. Standing up, you turn around to apologise: “Sorry about that . . . I seem to be very clumsy today”. “Go on then, what are you waiting for . . .take your pants off” you demand as you hand me a small towel (I say towel, it’s really just a thin piece of cloth and hardly adequate to the task). Clutching it close to protect my modesty, I remove my underwear and lie face down on the couch. Reaching behind, I arrange the piece of material to cover my behind as best I can. Pouring oil over my back you begin the massage. The feel of your soft, warm, lubricated hands as they glide over my skin and work my shoulders, neck, arms and hands, is so relaxing. Shutting my eyes, I can feel myself finally begin to relax Repositioning yourself at the far end of the couch you briefly massage my feet and calves. Shifting around to the side of the couch, you run your hands slowly up the backs of my legs and begin working my thighs - giving them a thorough going over. Then using your palms you gently part my legs a fraction. “So is this where your stiffness come on?” you ask suggestively as you slowly slide your hands up the inside of my thighs. “Er . . . yes” I reply rather awkwardly. With each massage stroke your hands move higher up the backs of my legs, until your fingers begin to slip beneath the edge of the cloth to touch my buttocks. “Mustn’t get oil on the towel” you remark, as you slowly pull the cloth away. The sensation of the cold oil as you dribble it all over my exposed bottom makes my finch. I wait as you put the bottle down and then feel the comforting touch of your warm well-lubricated hands as you start to knead my naked buttocks . . . softly at first . . . then more firmly. “I bet you get a lot of soreness here with all that cycling” you remark as slide your hands up the backs of my thighs and over my bottom. You repeat this action, reaching further and further down between my legs each time . . . until your fingertips ‘inadvertently’ touch my penis. “Ops, so sorry . . . clumsy me” you remark. You continue as if nothing had happened . . . then after a few strokes, your straying fingers touch my penis again . . . repeatedly . . . your fingers lingering a little longer each time. As you deliberately pour an excess of oil over my buttocks I feel the cool liquid begin to trickle down between my cheeks. “Oops . . . sorry my hand slipped” you comment “mustn’t get any oil on the couch” you remark, as you slide your fingers down between my legs as if to catch the drips. “Um, with all that cycling I bet you get hot and sweaty here . . . ”, you comment, as you massage between my legs, your searching fingers fondling my genitals “. . . does this feel good?” “Er, yes . . .” I mutter sheepishly. Returning to my buttocks you begin to run your fingers up and down the crack between my bum cheeks . . . until finally you ease your nicely lubricated finger inside me . . . I can’t suppress it any more and gasp with pleasure as you rhythmically slide your finger in and out of my bum hole. Feeling my groin beginning to stir I raise my hips off the couch. Noticing this you smack me on the buttocks and adopting a strict tone, announce firmly “That’s quite enough of that . . . now turn around so I can do your front”. As I turn over, I clutch the cloth, and do my best to cover my erection. Settling back on the couch I try to relax as I wait for you to continue your massage. I feel so embarrassed and hope you don’t notice. Looking down at me sternly, you pull the zip on your tunic down a few inches to reveal more of your ample cleavage. You carefully rub oil into your hands, and then learn low over me and begin to massage my chest, shoulders and arms. I do my best to avert my gaze from your inviting chest. Moving a little closer, you slide your hands down over my tummy and lower abdomen. I feel a tinge of excitement as you slide your fingertips beneath the edge of the cloth and play with my pubic hair. You notice a little jerk beneath the towel as you give each of my nipples a tweak. Stepping back, you comment: “Phew, I’m warming up with all this work . . . would you mind unzipping me?” I sit up and oblige, and then giving a little wriggle you allow your tunic to fall to the floor. Standing only in your bra and panties you glance down at me saying, “Thank you, that’s much better . . . now where were we?” Kicking the garment away, you move down to the end of the couch. I lie back as you briefly massage my feet and shins. I wriggle as you touch palms of my feet. “Ticklish eh?” you comment as you shift around to the side of the couch, sliding your hands over my knees and up my legs as you go. Then pouring oil over my upper legs, you begin to massage my thighs, kneading the flesh gently but firmly. Your nicely oiled hands reach further and further up my leg each time, until your fingers again begin to slide beneath the towel. Parting my legs, just a fraction with your palms, you start to massage my inner thighs . . . with each stroke your hands creep further up my leg until eventually your wandering fingers ‘inadvertently’ brush against my scrotum. “Ops . . . so sorry” you remark somewhat insincerely, as I flinch in surprise at your touch. You continue, repeating the indiscretion several times . . . deliberately allowing your fingers to stroke my testicle a little more each time. “. . . sorry, I told you I was feeling clumsy today” you remark. I reply a little awkwardly, “err . . . no . . . it’s fine”. “Really . . . you don’t mind?“ you respond, catching my eye. Then lifting the edge of the cloth up, you pour oil over my exposed scrotum and very gently begin to fondle my testicles – massaging them gently and playing with them teasingly in your fingers. I can’t help parting my thighs some more as you move your hand down to massage the exposed gap between my legs. “I bet you get saddle sore down here“, you remark glancing at me as you again explore every nook and cranny with your searching fingers. “Er . . . yes quite a bit” whimper. Then gradually you reach under my buttocks and slowly slip a nicely lubricated, searching finger inside me. You throw me a dirty smile as I clinch my buttocks and gasp in erotic pleasure at the sensation. Standing up straight, you look down at me sternly and observing the growing bulge beneath the cloth you remark “What’s caused this then, you naughty boy?” you enquire. “I don’t know” I reply. “I think you do . . .” you remark, as you squeeze your bust. “You’ve been having dirty thoughts about my breasts?” “You can’t keep your eyes off them can you?” “Me? No, err I mean yes!” I respond. “Oh really . . . let’s see shall we?” you remark, as you remove your bra. Moving closer, you start to massage my chest, playfully running your hands through my chest hair and teasing my nipples with your fingertips. You flash me naughty smile as you observe the bulge beneath the cloth bob up each time you give them a hard tug. Leaning forward, you suck hard first on one nipple, and then the other. Then leaning further over me, you slowly rock backwards and forwards, so that your plunging breasts are stroking my chest. Moving around behind my head, you lean over me and run your hands down my chest and under the towel to play with my pubic hair. I look up to see your pendulous breasts hovering just above my face. Standing up straight again you wiggle your breasts at me, as if to taunt me. Reaching further on the second occasion, you slide your hands over my chest and further down between by legs - your pendulous breasts touching my face as you lean lower over me. Repeating this action, you move up and down, reaching further down each time to fondle my testicles and inner thighs as you press your breasts into my face. As I try to catch and lick on your gorgeous stiff nipples, you pull away suddenly wiggling your breast at me. “No you don’t . . . you’re not allowed to touch you naughty boy” you snap. Moving away, you look down at my crotch you comment “Um . . . You see, I was right, the whole time, you are having disgusting thoughts about my breasts”. Then sternly you remark: “I hope you’re not making a mess under there on my nice clean towel?” “Well are you?” I reply (with a distinct lack of conviction): “Err . . . no”. With a demanding look in your eye, you continue, “Let’s see, shall we?” Slowly you slide your hand under the towel to investigate. Observing the sticky wetness on your fingers, you remark sternly, “Tut . . . tut . . . what is this then? . . . I think I had better remove this before you make a mess on it.” As you pull the cloth away my erect penis bobs up with a jerk and you remark, “That’s better . . . well look at you . . . you’ve been having very dirty thoughts!” Casting the towel aside dismissively, you begin to pour oil all over my exposed groin area. As you teasingly slide your hands up my thighs, between my legs, over my tummy and around the base of my shaft, my swollen penis grows and stiffens in anticipation of your touch. I open my thighs wide as you massage the gap between my legs and fondle my scrotum. Then slowly sliding your hand beneath my buttocks, you ease your nicely lubricated finger inside me. Your give me a naughty smile as you observe that every time you ease your finger in and out of me, my erection bobs up and down. Cupping my scrotum you pull gently, easing my foreskin down to expose my now glistening head. Pre-come oozes out and starts to drip down. Scooping it up it with your finger, you glance at me, and remark, “You filthy boy . . . I took that towel away just in time!” Sliding your hands up the inside of my thighs you whisper, “I’ve dealt with the stiffness here” . . . Then moving closer to me, you look down at my groin you add, “I think I have another job . . . . what do you think?” Unable able to resist your insatiable teasing, I reach up to grab your gorgeous breasts. Taking one in each hand, I delight in the warm, soft feel of your tits as I squeeze and fondle them. Then sitting up, and swiveling around, I lean forward and lick each of your nipples with my tongue and suck on them until they are standing erect. As I slide my hand down inside your knickers, you exclaim sternly, “And where do you think you’re going? Get back on the couch you naughty boy!!” Looking down at my large erection you remark, “You’re such a bad boy . . . you can’t control yourself can you? . . . Look at the size of your dirty big cock. It looks like you are going to burst!” I watch as you pour more oil over my erect cock, then gasp with pleasure as you teasingly play with the throbbing wet end of my penis with your fingertips. Caressing my balls with one hand, you form a ring with the finger and thumb of your other hand, which you slowly move up and down over the head of my erect penis. As you rhythmically move your finger and thumb up and down over my wet bulbous head pre-cum oozes out as if you are milking me. The erotic touch of your playful hands makes my shaft stiffen even more. Then fondling my testicles you whisper “Umm . . . I think it’s about time I emptied these don’t you?” Holding my testicles and the base of my penis firmly with one hand you caress my stiff shaft in your hand, rhythmically pumping up and down my full length . . . Moving away from the couch you pulling off your panties are sternly announce, “Well . . . after all the work I’ve put in, I’m not going to let this nice big cock go to waste . . . . .”