Jacks Massage

Jack now knew for certain that it had been a mistake to let himself be talked into playing that veterans’ rugby match the previous afternoon. Every muscle in his body ached and his shoulders and thighs were stiff and tight. Fitness hadn’t been a problem, he kept himself in shape, but his 38-year old body just wasn’t up to the physical impact of the game he used to play every week, any more.

Several beers after the game had helped to anaesthetise his aches the previous evening, and he had slept soundly enough, helped by a comfortable, if rather routine, bonk with the wife. Their sex life was pleasant enough, Jack thought, but he was a man with a preference for the occasional thrill; Harriet, on the other hand, enjoyed straightforward sex, but would never contemplate even a bit of porn to spice matters up. He had bought her one of those expensive new vibrators several months earlier, but it had hardly been used. She had also found one of his R18 DVDs hidden in his study a few months earlier and had been furious at the thought that he might have the occasional wank when he should be screwing her in the missionary position.

As Jack walked stiffly up the road on the way to his office, he felt as though every bump and tackle had left a deep bruise. That might have been a good use for the vibrator, he thought ruefully, surely it could help to sooth sore muscles. It was a nuisance having to work on Sunday afternoon, but it would make the following week manageable – without shifting some of his load today, he’d never catch up with himself next week.

His usual coffee shop was closed – it was Sunday, after all, so Jack took a turn away from his normal route to work, hoping that the nearby Starbucks might be open. A few yards on, a sign caught his eye – “Thai Sauna and Massage” open 7 days, noon - midnight. Knocking shops seem to be opening all over town, he thought, but then paused. If this was in fact a place which offered a genuine massage, one of those should certainly help to ease his aches and pains. He’d heard that most massage parlours in London were nothing better than cheap brothels, but he’d also read about genuine Thai massage and the thought of a pair of skilled hands working on his aching muscles was very tempting.

Jack stepped inside and the receptionist looked up from her book – Thai script, Jack noticed, surely a good sign. “Do I need an appointment for a massage?”, he asked.

With a smile, the dark-haired girl asked him how long he would like for his massage and as Jack scanned the price sheet, he settled on an hour for £60. Seems quite steep, he thought to himself, but then this looks quite a smart place. He paid in cash, gave his first name to the girl who noted it down in an appointments book, and followed her down a corridor. One of the doors was open and inside was a sitting room with three or four oriental girls watching TV; two of them looked up and smiled as he walked past. There was a faint reek of garlic and ginger, which contested with the pervasive scent of air-freshener. The receptionist handed Jack a towel from a pile on a table, and told him to shower in the changing room and then come back out. Jack went into the locker room, which again seemed clean and smart, undressed, putting his clothes and briefcase into the locker, and then stepped into the shower.

The water was hot and as the shower streamed strongly over his shoulders, Jack felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders begin to relax. As he soaped himself, his cock and balls hung heavily and Jack’s thoughts turned again to what awaited him – was this just a legitimate massage parlour, or would he be offered more than he really came for?

It was quite a tempting thought, he’d never screwed an oriental girl, but he’d need to use a condom – surely if they offered him sex, they’d have a supply? Jack just didn’t know, but his cock began to thicken in expectation. What might it cost? He had been to the cashpoint that morning, so he had some cash in his wallet – but then he remembered the money he’d already paid – would what he had left be enough? How much would he need for the rest of the day, in fact until tomorrow because his bank wouldn’t let him draw money twice in a day? Jack’s mind raced through trivia, then the thought of Harriet at home with their two children passed came into his head and he suddenly felt guilty. What if she phoned him on his office direct line or on his mobile while he was here – where could say he had been?

Jack washed himself carefully, making sure that his long, soft foreskin and the heavy dome of his penis were immaculately fresh. He finished his shower, towelled off and as he stepped out of the cubicle with the towel slung raffishly over his shoulder, caught sight of himself in the mirror at the end of the room. Not too bad for nearly 40, he smiled to himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist and went back into the corridor.

There a pretty, dark girl with unmistakably Thai cheekbones and delicate features was waiting for him, dressed in what looked like a black tracksuit. She showed him into a small, dark room with a massage table in the centre, and asked him to lie down, face down. The table was covered in a fresh sheet of soft paper and at one end the paper had been torn over a circular hole in the table, clearly meant for his face. Jack climbed up, lying down so that his head rested over the space allowing him to lie flat, but also to breathe. It felt comfortable enough, he thought. The girl reached to untuck his towel and for a moment his naked backside was exposed; Jack’s pulse quickened for a moment as he wondered whether this was to be a naked experience, but then the girl laid a fresh towel across his middle.

“You like massage hard, or medium?” she asked.

Jack thought for a moment and replied that he didn’t want it too hard, thank you.

“OK I use oil?”

“Yes,” Jack said, “that’s great” and immediately wondered whether he would be able to get the oil off before he got into bed with Harriet – he always slept naked. These thoughts passed as the masseuse started on the back of his left calf, the fresh oil slightly cold to the touch, but warming up quickly as she worked.

She was stronger than she looked, Jack thought, as he started to relax. His earlier thoughts about whether he’d be offered sex receded, as the girl carried on working on his calf with professional skill. Maybe it’s for the best, he thought, it’ll certainly save some money and I’ll be able to face Harriet tonight with no problems.

His masseuse worked up to his thighs, and Jack’s tight and sore hamstrings began to ease as she worked her fingers deeper and deeper. As her hands worked up and down, her long fingers ran smoothly up and back and, just occasionally, came up to reach the soft skin on the inside of his thigh, undoubtedly one of Jack’s erogenous zones and once again, he felt his cock thicken. As the towel was laid loosely across his buttocks, his cock and balls were resting barely on the paper covering the table and he wondered just how much the masseuse could see.

With a shrug, Jack decided that she probably worked on several clients a day; he didn’t feel that he had too much to worry about in the size department, and once again he relaxed under the masseuse’s skilled touch.

On one particularly long stroke, the very tip of one of the girl’s fingers just touched one of his balls and Jack started. Surely that was an accident? Quite definitely, the next strokes were just a fraction shorter and Jack settled once again, but could not resist just slightly opening his legs a little wider as he did so.

The girl moved round the table and began work on his other leg. Jack tried to work out how long he had been in the room, it felt like a long time, but he guessed that she knew that he had paid for an hour. The routine was identical and once again, as she worked on the back of his thigh, occasionally her fingers strayed onto his inner thigh and twice, this time, she just touched his balls.

Jack wasn’t sure how to react to this, he certainly felt his cock stiffening beneath him, but it was trapped beneath his left thigh; he felt it might be too blatant to lift up his bum to allow his cock to stand up beneath his stomach and, in any event, the masseuse hardly gave him any opportunity to move as she worked. He was sure that she must be getting quite a view of his balls as she worked; he also thought that she had made sure that the towel lying loosely across his buttocks was placed high enough to permit her to reach between his buttocks.

Just as Jack was wondering whether she had locked the door as they came in (he didn’t remember noticing that she had, but surely they could do anything untoward while any of the others could walk in?), the girl walked round to the head of the table and began work on his shoulders. Any sexy thoughts in Jack’s mind vanished as she began to twist and tweak every sore muscle across his shoulders and the back of his neck; it was quite painful, but as she moved on, Jack felt that the overall effect was probably an improvement on his previous stiff and sore state.

Jack became increasingly aware that this young girl’s crotch was very close indeed to the top of his head, but he dared not lift his face from the hole in the table to sneak a view. He had also forgotten, or hadn’t noticed, whether she had any tits to speak of under the baggy black top. His excited thoughts ran on to what would happen when she began to work on his front – how would his head fit into the hole in the table? If she stood at the top of the table as she worked, what sort of view would he get of her tits then as he lay on his back?

He imagined that Thai girls probably had small boobs, but with large protuberant dark nipples – where did he get those ideas from? It was a while since he’d seen an Asian porn DVD and he hadn’t dared keep any in the house since Harriet found the last one.

The masseuse returned to the foot and the table, and Jack then realised that she was taking her slippers off. Why? Very carefully, she stepped up onto the table, placed one bare foot on the back of his thigh and then transferred her weight gently onto his hamstring. Suddenly, Jack remembered that he’d heard once that sometimes these Thai massages involve walking on your back – he hadn’t believed it then, but he was about to find out. Sure enough, the girl, delicately but very firmly, proceeded to probe every muscle in his thighs, followed by every vertebrae in his back, with her bare feet. Jack was too busy dealing with the painful anticipation of where she might stand next, which sore muscle was about to get the next treatment to think about anything else and he felt his cock shrink back to the state he inelegantly thought of as flaccid.

To Jack’s relief, the girl finally stood down from the table, replaced her slippers and moved to the middle of the table. To his confusion though, she then moved the towel around his middle up to his lower back, completely exposing his buttocks, and began to vigorously massage each of his cheeks. Once again, her fingers occasionally slipped down between his legs and this time she avoided touching his balls altogether, but ran her fingers deep into the fleshy cleft where his thighs joined his buttocks. Jack’s dick thickened once more and he longed to lift up his bum to free his cock from beneath his thigh, but the masseuse’s strong hands made this impossible.

Jack also wasn’t sure whether his reaction was usual – presumably the regular massage customers could control themselves better. He had read about the oriental feeling of “loss of face”, and Jack was quite sure that getting a hard-on during a massage would certainly be to lose face, and he really didn’t want to risk causing offence.

“Please turn over.”

Jack started once more as the girl’s voice broke into his thoughts. As he raised his face, he realised that the girl was holding the towel up as a screen in front of her, and he made sure that he turned over so that his back was towards her as he rolled onto his back. She laid the towel across his middle and then got another towel to place under his head. Released from its trap beneath Jack’s body, his cock lay fatly on his tummy, and as Jack relaxed, it began to thicken and swell. Jack stole a glance downwards to see how obvious his erection might be under the towel; if the girl looked, she couldn’t possibly avoid realising how turned on he was. However, she was facing the other way as she began to massage his lower right leg.

Jack looked up and noticed a stainless steel bar suspended from the ceiling, and he realised how the masseuse had been able to keep her balance while walking on his back. As she worked on his feet, he tried to cast his preoccupation with the sexual possibilities of the situation from his mind; she had really done nothing to him that was not entirely professional and it was pretty shameful that he was lying there with a hard-on. His cock, however, twitched once again and Jack was again sure that the girl must have realised.

This time when she worked on his thighs from the front, her fingers did not stray towards his tackle, but Jack could not resist spreading his legs a little as she worked. There was not a flicker of reaction to his suggestivity and shortly afterwards, the girl moved up to the head of the table to work on his arms and shoulders. His hopes that he might get a view of her tits from below were dashed – the baggy top was firmly tucked in at the waist. Jack also realised that his hour must be almost up.

As Jack was reaching the conclusion that this was an entirely legitimate massage parlour, but one that was worth every penny of the admission money, the girl moved to his right hand side and began to massage his stomach.

“You like hand relief?” she whispered.

“Sorry?” stammered Jack, astonished at this turn of events. The girl slid her right hand under the towel and rested it unmistakably on his dick.

“Hand job, you like hand job?”

“Of course,” smiled Jack, “I like very much!” Looking back, Jack realised that this was the moment when he should have asked two further questions: how much, and perhaps, do you do anything else?

“OK, no problem,” she continued, and moved the towel up and away from his genitals, resting on his stomach. “Very nice cock, nice size”, murmured the girl, to Jack’s satisfaction, which was tempered a little shortly afterwards when she continued “not too big...”

Jack muttered his thanks for the compliment, but then sighed deeply as the girl began to caress his cock and balls. His dick reared again, and Jack felt as though that it had reached a size not seen for a few years.

The girl poured a little oil onto her hands and this time carefully rubbed her hands together to make sure that the oil was warmed fully before she returned to her caresses. She began a two-handed corkscrew movement, working his foreskin up and down the domed head of his engorged dick and Jack began to realise that this was an expert; he also realised at the same moment that, although he would like this to last for some time, at this rate he would come very soon.

“Gently,” he whispered – and wondered at the same time whether the door was locked, and how much the girls down the corridor might be able to hear; bizarrely, he was grateful at that moment for the TV.

The girl removed her right hand and continued to stroke his cock with her left, thumb on top and two fingers beneath. Jack felt a little more in control, as her right hand began to cup and stroke his balls, which had drawn up tight to his body. Once again, she added a little more oil to her hands and quickened her movement up and down his cock, as the index finger of her right hand probed beneath his sack. Jack realised that he was approaching his point of no return and began to moan in time with the strokes; as the oily tip of her index finger probed into his arse, he exploded into spasm after spasm of orgasm, spitting come from the head of his dick into the strategically-placed towel. Both hands returned to their work on his cock, as he continued to thrust with the throes of his orgasm, milking the last drops of come; she also used her fingernails gently on the wrinkled skin of his balls.

Jack finally reached the end of his orgasm and rested back on the massage table, totally relaxed. At this point, he must have actually fallen asleep for a few moments, because when he came too, the girl had evidently washed her hands and was now very gently massaging his scalp with the tips of her fingers. Jack thought he had never been so peaceful.

A few moments later, she whispered “OK, you get dressed now” and slipped quietly out of the room.

Jack showered carefully to remove as much oil as possible and put a couple of notes in his trouser pocket for a tip. When he passed the TV room, however, all the girls were gripped again by the show; he asked the receptionist whether he should tip his masseuse.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” said the girl “come again soon.”

Oh yes, thought Jack, I think I most certainly will.