Gay massage story
Not long ago, I made a massage appointment at my health club, an overpriced institution with a cranky, late-70’s tennis legend as its spokesman. I didn’t check on the sex of the massage therapist. As a unbent male, I somehow assumed-or maybe just hoped-that the receptionist would give me a female masseuse. My sexual preference, it turns out, was a moot point: My gym only offers male masseurs.
I discovered this as I walked into the small, dimly lit massage room, where I met Hans, a tall, well-built fortysomething who looked as if he owned a pair of leather chaps for weekend use. No problem, I thought, trying to preserve positive. Hans seemed gentle enough, and when he lit the candles and started the Enya CD (does the massage guild require all members to use the same music?), I began to drift off into that semi-relaxed massage-induced state.
Massage therapy, once an indulgence of the country-club set, has develop the Starbucks of the bodywork world. An estimated 35 million Americans expend roughly $3 billion annually on visits to massage practitioners, totaling 75 million visits each year. For me, it’s become the equivalent of air tour or medical exams: I rely on i
After the rain: a gay massage story
Below is a imaginary gay massage story contributed by our writer. It is written from the point of view of a homosexual masseur.
After the rain: a gay massage story
It rained and rained, until I started to undergo as if I had a rain feature installed in my balcony. The soothing sound of rain I could get used to, but stepping outside was always a thoroughly miserable affair. I had recently acquired a sturdy new umbrella, but no amount of waterproofing could guard my light summer shoes from getting soggy with rainwater.
However, now the skies had cleared somewhat, and as I stepped indoors after returning from a bike ride, I was pleased to see that my feet remained perfectly dry. Placing my fabric trainers on the shoe rack, I dropped my gaze to my wristwatch: I had an hour. A whole, luxurious hour. Unbelievable.
The anticipation
Off went the sweat-soaked hoodie and t-shirt, and I flashed myself a cheesy grin in the bathroom mirror: hello, handsome. I had stepped up my game at the gym and it did show: my arm muscles were acquiring a good tone and the six pack was more defined by the day. I stepped into the shower and a cold stream of fluid made me
Bad Massage Stories
I own another massage story. This was a period in my life when I was so occupied with work I didn't have period or desire to date anyone, but still wanted human contact, so I got a massage every 3-4 weeks, usually from diverse guys as the best ones were always passing through.
This guy was thoughtful of hot and did outcalls, so I scheduled him to come over when he was in town. I never expect sex or a content ending unless the masseur indicates as such, and masseurs are not escorts, so I am pretty hands off unless they urge it during the massage.
The massage was decent - nothing special - but at the conclude he started massaging my junk and got me fully hard, commented positively on my cock size, then stripped off his underwear and just SAT DOWN ON MY COCK. It was totally unexpected and really hot. He jerked off while riding me and then came, and then finished me off with his hands after.
He came back to town every few months and texted me when he was going to be in town. I saw him about four more times, and the massage went the identical way each age until the last.
After he hopped off me, he took a look and went into the bathroom and then came back with a bunch of toi
First experiences in gay male massage
Below are two stories shared by one of our clients and the founder of Touch of London, respectively. What connects them? New beginnings. In the first story, a client has his first massage experience. In the second one, a gay male massage agency comes into being.
First gay massage experience
Told us by one of our clients, who prefers to stay anonymous. Would you like to share your experience? Please write to us and let us know whether you are happy for your story to appear on site.
I had had massage before, of course. While on holidays, when recommended by my doctor after a bicycle accident, and just to relieve stress. The only difference was that I was massaged in a strictly clinical way, and often by a woman. This was going to be something entirely different…
I would not describe myself as socially relaxed in general, and result myself naked in a room with a handsome stranger was a pleasant prospect, of course…but also a daunting one. The first time I booked was even before I arrived in London. A friendly voice on the other end took my details, wished me a wonderful massage, and a confirmation arrived by text message shortly after