Written by jeffring

15 Aug 2011

I have suffered for a while with a bad back. It’s not horrendous, but the medical people don’t seem to be able to discover what the cause is. I have had appointments with various hospitals, and they all seem to draw a blank. In the meantime, the problem persists.

Various friends have all suggested that I visit masseurs/physiotherapists, but I have resisted on the basis that I didn’t want the problem made any worse, and that I didn’t really trust anyone that was not a fully fledged doctor. The other problem was that no-one seemed to recommend the same individual, everyone seemed to know a ‘marvellous’ masseur, but they were all different.

In the meantime, I had noted an advertisement in my local paper for a physio that had a clinic on a street that was almost on my route to and from work. According to the advertisement, he was very well qualified, and that he specialised in treating lower back pain. So, one day when the sun was shining, I decided to walk to work and have a look at the place. Sure enough, the clinic was situated in a fairly imposing three storey house and there was a discreet brass sign on the wall, next to the door. But I was still reluctant to take the plunge and make an appointment.

Then, about three weeks later, I had the afternoon booked off from work. I had arranged with a friend that we should go to a local horse race meeting. Then, that morning, he had rung up to say that he was snowed under at work and would I mind if he cancelled. I didn’t fancy going to the races on my own, so that left me at a bit of a loose end. To make matters worse, my girlfriend who is a buyer for one of the large retail chains, was away on one of her frequent trips to the far east.

So, on impulse, I drove around to the clinic and parked down the road. I decided to go in, and maybe discuss my back problem, and if I liked what I heard, I would book an appointment for some time in the future. So, I walked up the path and rang the bell. After a couple of minutes, I heard footsteps and the door was answered by a guy in an immaculate white jacket and trousers. ‘Hi’ he said, ‘my name is Derek. Sorry to look so unprofessional, but I have had two cancellations and I have let the receptionist have the afternoon off. I think she is going to the races.’ I laughed, and told him that I was supposed to be going to the races as well, but that my friend had called off at the last minute. He led me into a modern, well equipped, office and sat down behind the desk. ‘So what can I do for you?’ he asked. I explained about my back, and how I had been advised by all my friends to seek some kind of massage or physiotherapy. He took out a form, and explained that he had better take some notes. He asked me about the pain, exactly where it was, how long I had had it, and what medical treatment I had already received. Then, I asked him if he thought that he could do anything about it. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied, ‘I’ll have to have a look at you before I can see if I can help.’ He seemed quite a nice guy, and I liked the professional way that he had conducted himself, so I then asked if I could make an appointment, and how much it would cost. ‘I do the initial assessment for £10, and I can do that now if you like. I told you, I have had a couple of cancellations. But first I will need you to sign this form.’ ‘What form?’ I asked. He passed a disclaimer form across the desk to me. ‘You have to understand’ he said, ‘that examinations for lower back pain can be regarded as somewhat intimate, and I need you to sign that you understand that, and that you consent to the examination on that basis.’ ‘How intimate?’ I asked. He laughed. ‘Nothing to worry about really,’ he said, ‘but I will need to examine areas quite close to your genital and anal areas.’ ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I think that may well be the other reason why I have been putting this off.’ ‘It’s up to you’ he said with a smile, ‘but I do see scores of naked, or nearly naked, bodies in the course of my work.’ So, I signed the form, and paid my £10. ‘What happens now?’ I asked. ‘Go next door, to the treatment room, and strip down to your underpants, and make yourself comfortable on the treatment couch.’ ‘OK,’ I said, and went through the door that he indicated.

I went through to the treatment room, and then I realised that I had a problem. I wasn’t wearing any underpants. I do have a very large cock, and most of the time I am more comfortable without them. I was embarrassed about the underpants, and I was a bit embarrassed about my cock as well, I used to get teased about it at school. It’s great for the ladies, but it does to tend to make any men that see it feel inferior. So, I stripped off all the rest of my clothes, but left my trousers on.

After a few minutes, Derek came through. He had taken off the white jacket and was dressed in an immaculately clean white polo shirt. He indicated my trousers and asked why I hadn’t undressed. I explained about the pants, and he laughed. ‘You should have said, I’ll get you a towel.’ He opened a drawer, and produced a white bath towel. I removed my trousers and hurriedly wrapped the towel around my middle, then I laid face down on the couch.

Derek started with a gentle slow massage of my shoulders. ‘Just relax’ he said, ‘I can’t really do my job properly if you are all tensed up.’ His hands gradually worked down my back, loosely tracing out from the path of my spine. ‘How old are you?’ asked Derek. ‘58’ I replied. ‘Well you are in very good condition for your age. Did you play sport when you were younger?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I used to play a lot of football, and I still swim a lot.’ ‘Thought so,’ he replied, ‘it’s nice to work on someone in reasonable condition, and a personal preference, not too hairy.’ I didn’t think any more about the remark. I have a very naturally smooth body with just a little hair under my armpits, and around my balls.

By now, Derek’s hands had descended further. ‘I am afraid that the towel is going to have to go now.’ By then, I was quite relaxed, so I unhooked the towel and he pulled it away from around me. The massage exploration started to become a lot more of what he had called ‘intimate’. His hands explored my buttocks and sometimes his fingers seemed to fondle the crack between my bum cheeks. A couple of times, a fingertip brushed my arsehole. This continued for a while and then, horror of horrors, I could feel myself getting an erection. I have never, fortunately, been one of those men that has a problem getting erections. When my girlfriend is home, we make love twice a day, sometimes more often. When she is away, I masturbate twice a day, morning and evening. I had nearly overslept this particular morning, and, as far as my cock was concerned, my morning cum was well overdue. Fortunately, I was lying on my front, so Derek couldn’t see my fast swelling cock, but it was making me uncomfortable and I started wriggling around a bit.

But he knew what was going on. ‘I think you would be more comfortable lying on your back for a bit, don’t worry, some arousal is fairly common during treatment.’ So I turned over. My worst fears were confirmed. I was fully erect, not semi, it was at its hardest, eleven inches of meat and as solid as it could be. Derek was transfixed. ‘Good God,’ he said ‘that is enormous. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’ I was embarrassed, but my cock wasn’t, it just stood there, refusing to go down in the slightest. Almost involuntarily, I grabbed it, peeled back my foreskin to make me more comfortable, and gave it a couple of wanking strokes. Sure enough, as if on cue, a little bubble of clear pre-cum oozed out of my cock. Suddenly, Derek leaned forward, and licked the pre-cum off the hot red glans. Then he grasped the shaft and started sucking. I was shocked. But I was also embarrassed that I had caused the situation by becoming erect in the first place, and at the back of my mind, I started to realise that the way he was sucking me was very enjoyable. I needed to cum and he was building me with sucking skills that were exceptional. I kept telling myself that I had to make him stop, but in reality I was thrusting deeper into his mouth. He couldn’t take it all of course, but I managed to get about eight inches down his throat before he started gagging. I could feel myself building, getting ready to squirt, but he sensed it as well, and stopped sucking. ‘My God’ he said again, ‘that is the loveliest cock I have ever seen. I am sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I see loads of cocks and am never tempted, but yours is lovely.’ By now, I was mentally aroused as well as physically, and I knew I was going to have to cum. With one hand, I grabbed his hair, and forced his mouth down onto my cock again. I always produce a lot of pre-cum and he started to work it out of my cock, savouring each mini spurt. By now, I was fairly relaxed about the situation and I was certainly quite happy to get ready to cum my load deep into his warm mouth. But once again, he sensed me building up to a climax and he stopped sucking my cock. Instead, he started massaging my balls with one hand, while the other felt further between my legs, and a finger started gently massaging my arsehole. Suddenly his head was between my legs, and his warm tongue was flicking around my arse. Again, I felt that I really should stop him, but it was so nice I really didn’t want him to stop. I moved into a position where it was easier for him to rim my arse and I could feel his tongue probing at my arsehole and I wondered if he would actually manage to push his tongue right inside. Derek was obviously enjoying doing it, because he suddenly stopped and asked me to turn over and squat on all fours. I did so, and he pushed my bum cheeks as wide apart as they would go and started licking away at my bum-hole again. At the same time he had reached between my legs, and was gently wanking my cock. Not hard enough to make me cum, but hard enough to let it know that it wasn’t being left out of his feast. By now I was totally carried away, and I was pushing my bum back onto his eager tongue while pleasure was rippling through my whole body. He stopped licking for a moment. ‘Let me know when you can’t wait any longer to cum,’ he said, ‘Because I want to swallow your load, but I will keep eating your arsehole till you can’t stand it anymore. Push back onto my tongue and I will see if I can get it inside.’ He returned his attention to my wet anus, licking and probing with his tongue. I had never realised that anything could feel that good. I was pushing back onto his tongue and I could feel his tongue trying to penetrate me. I knew I couldn’t wait very much longer, so I reluctantly pulled his head away from my bum, and turned over. My cock was still rock hard, and I had that feeling you get when you know that you are going to have to cum soon. He grasped the shaft and looked at it in some awe, wanking it slowly, up and down. ‘Next time, I want to see if you can get all of that up me,’ he said. I thought to myself ‘There won’t be a next time,’ but all I could now concentrate on was my overpowering need to ejaculate. I forced his head down onto my cock and started fucking his mouth. This time he was trying to make me cum, and his sucking technique was as skilful as his rimming. I felt it build and then just let it go. He moaned as the first urgent hot squirt of thick spunk discharged into his throat, then a second, third, fourth and fifth followed in quick succession. My knees started to feel weak but I knew this was going to be a big one, and there was still more to come. Sure enough, my cock continued to discharge sticky cum with each spurt slightly weaker than the one before. He swallowed most of it, but some ran out of his mouth and trickled down his chin and onto my balls. Eventually, I finished, and pulled my cock out of his mouth. He used his tongue to clean up the spilt cum from off my balls.

Then he went out of the room. I got dressed. After a couple of minutes he came back in and gave me my £10 back. ‘I hope I will see you again,’ he said. ‘I am not gay,’ I replied. ‘You don’t have to be,’ he said, ‘just let me lick your gorgeous arse, and service that fabulous cock.’ ‘I’ll think about it,’ I replied.