I'm a long-haired Native Indian who in recent years has let himself go. There used to be a time when I practically lived at the gym and you could see me jogging around the park every morning. I stand five foot six with large shoulders and muscular legs from decades of jogging. I have always been proud of my legs. It was always the one asset I relied on to get me laid. Girls always told me I had a tight butt. Then one day I looked at myself in the mirror and I saw a paunch where my hard abs used to be. My shoulders were getting soft and I was getting man tits where my hard sculptured chest used to be. I wondered what happened to my muscular body. I began a workout schedule that same day.
After a couple of months I began to get my body back; fat was melting away and the muscle memory was restoring itself. It didn't take long to get back in the groove, but I noticed that warm up and cool down took longer, and I needed to stretch more or I would hurt like hell later that day and the next.
I began seeing a massage therapist on a regular basis. We agreed to meet every Thursday night at 7 p.m. She was usually closed at that time but she and her team of therapists often made special arrangements to suit their clients' needs. I worked all day so I couldn't get to her within her usual hours. It worked out fine for me though.
Her name is Lisa and I had known her for many years. I used to work across the hallway from her studio where I was a computer geek for a company I can't mention by name. I always had a small crush on her. She has curly reddish blonde hair and the cutest freckles above her innocent smile. When I first met her she was considered fat. I didn't think so at the time because she had such a beautiful smile and had such a beautiful way of greeting me that she made me feel like a man. She always made me feel special.
She was, and still is a crotch watcher. Whenever I wear my black jeans or shorts to work she always stares at my crotch and she doesn't care whether I know or not. It's not just me. It's all men. She likes to size them up.
Several years back I went to work on a Sunday afternoon to install high-speed networking cables through the ceilings. I was wearing yoga pants and a ratty t-shirt but they were the only expandable clothes I had for climbing ladders and crawling through ceilings and such. I changed at work and when I noticed she was in her studio I decided to go without underwear. I wanted to give this crotch-watcher a show she would remember.
After an hour I worked my way into the hallway between our work places. I rubbed my cock into semi-hardness and hiked up my pants before I climbed the ladder. I had to snake wire all across the ceiling. Eventually she came out to check on the commotion. My head was in the rafters as I tied down the cable. I pretended not to notice her and I could feel her eyes staring at my crotch. I farther arched my back so the fabric of my pants would stretch and outline the head of my cock for her. She would be able to see how large I was and the size of my head in more detail like that.
I came down from the ladder and pretended I didn't know she was working. I apologized for making so much noise and hoped I didn't disturb her and told her I was almost done. She said, "That's such a rickety old ladder, I should keep it steady for you."
I only had to climb the ladder three more times so I agreed. I didn't have a full blown hard-on but I was in a constant state of arousal and it was indeed arousing knowing she was lusting after my cock.
I measured my cock once in high school with the other members of the soccer team. There was nothing gay about it, but there was one guy on the team who we called 'Pipe' because he had the hugest dick ever. Someone asked him how big it was. He didn't know but someone whipped out a ruler from their locker and he measured it for us. It was nine inches flaccid and when he made himself hard it tipped past the ruler. We all measured ourselves and I came out with a respectable 9 inches. Not the biggest in the locker room but certainly not the tiniest at a miserable 5 inches. I had one thing to be proud of though. My cock was as thick as Pipe's; thick enough I couldn't touch my thumb to my fingers when I jerked off.
Lisa must have thought I had a huge porno cock because at a completely flaccid limp state it must have measured a good six inches but now my cock was engorged with lust and desire. She didn't know I was semi-hard and I didn't let on that I knew she was staring at my cock every time I climbed the ladder. When I got to the top of the ladder I would thrust my cock forward and frame it between the two top rungs.
Unfortunately, nothing came of that day. I was about to invite her over for a coffee so I could seduce her but the client she was waiting for suddenly showed up. We both had to go back to our respective jobs and finish whatever we were working on.
That was the last time I saw her for years as I got a high paying job in a different city and moved away. I returned back to the city with another high paying job though and when I returned I booked my appointment with her.
She was even more beautiful than before! She, too, started working out recently and it really showed. She was proud of her body and wore tight white slacks that accented her new tight butt, as well as a clingy shirt that was cut high and low to accent her new tight abs and generous cleavage. We met in front of the building so I was able to watch her ass as we ascended the stairs. The first thing I noticed as we were going up was that she wasn't wearing any underwear! Her slacks were transparent enough to see a hint of flesh underneath and there was no tell-tale sign of a whale tail. No bra strap either.
She directed me to her massage table and told me to get undressed, but to leave my underwear on. Meanwhile she went to get changed into her massage therapist uniform which was basic hospital scrubs.
I had been to her massage studio before but I was seeing a different therapist at the time. I knew the drill anyway. Get undressed, leave the underwear on, and cover up with a thin white sheet. The therapist will keep you covered except for the body parts she is working on all for the sake of the client's modesty and warmth.
I chose my underwear carefully and changed into them just prior to our appointment. I was wearing a white spandex/lycra blend bikini that tightly hugged my butt. The front part of the underwear was completely transparent and showed off my penis and balls. My cock is very dark and I have very few pubic hairs. Full-blooded native men have very little body hair; no leg hair, no chest hair, a wisp of underarm hair, incapable of growing a beard and a tiny wisp of pubic hair. I could see my cock fully underneath the thin white stretchy fabric. I could see the tiny thatch of pubic hair and could possibly count them too. They were sexy underwear for a crotch-watcher.
It was a very professional massage. I booked her for an hour and told her over the phone she would need to concentrate on my legs because I wasn't stretching long enough after my workouts. As need required she rolled my underwear up or down depending on which part of my butt she was massaging. Then she asked me to roll over so she could massage my thighs. I was already in a state of semi-hardness. I shouldn't have been. The blood should have been rushing all over my body, my back, my shoulders, my butt, my legs. It was not even a sensuous massage the way your girlfriend gives you in front of the fireplace, it was a hard deep muscle massage.
My eyes were closed and I turned over quite dreamily with a content smile. She re-arranged the blanket to cover my chest and legs and slowly rolled the sheet up as she worked her way towards my thighs. When she reached the top of my hips she peeled back the bottom part of the sheet as though she were opening a present. I pretended I was falling asleep. My eyes were closed but I can hear a subtle audible gasp. My cock was a little more than semi-hard, a heartbeat away from full-on hardness. For a moment she doesn't even move, a pregnant pause of pure wanton lust, but she collected herself and started to work on my leg.
I noticed there was a difference in her massage technique. Instead of the deep harsh muscular digging she was becoming more sensual and erotic, more like a lover than a professional therapist. She pulled my underwear down slightly to get to the top of my thigh bone and she ran the back of her fingers and nails along the top of my pubic muscle to reach the other thigh bone. It was definitely not a professional massage method but it felt so sexy and wonderful and my cock grew a little thicker. She snapped back my underwear and began work on my right upper thigh and pulled up the underwear to expose more flesh. She 'accidentally' rubbed my balls as she massaged my muscles.
My semi hard-on strained the fabric, stretching it. She grabbed underneath my leg near my buttocks and worked upwards. When she massaged her way towards the top of my leg she skillfully ran her fingers beneath the elastic of my shorts brushing my balls. She pushed in enough that I could actually feel her knuckles underneath the tip of my cock. Her fingers were soft, silky, and oily and she lingered ever so slowly in one direction and then the other with her other hand. That's all it took! My cock grew instantly erect. At first my hard-on tented the material, but it quickly worked its way out the top of my underwear snapping back the elastic and pushing it down to the base of my penis trapping my scrotum.
