John did come back, a couple of weeks later, and surrendered his final cherry to me and became a true faggot as I took him doggie style, although I wasn't able to come inside him. He complained of the pain despite the lube and my being slow and thoughtful. He did later admit, though, that it was worth it. He also, this time, came repeatedly in my mouth. He told me at the end that he would try the other masseurs in the area and I made a mental note to ensure condoms were used with him in future. In fact I never saw him again, and hoped that he found happiness with other masseurs, or other partners.
The months went past. Again and again, a nervous straight man would arrive and two hours later a gay man walked out the door. It's doubtful if they would ever be able to satisfy a woman again, or enjoy in any way sexual activity with a woman. Only a man would be able to satisfy them.
I tweaked the website again and again to clarify that anyone curious about what it was like to be with a man, or wondering if they were bisexual, was welcome, and that the client was welcome to touch any part of my body during the massage. I definitely enjoyed the straight men more than the occasional effeminate gay man. It was because they were more of a challenge, as well as more interesting to me. On the rare occasions when they resisted me I asked if they'd like me to try putting a finger up their backside. They usually agreed, intrigued. Using one, then two fingers made every man cry out in astonishment, excitement and delight. And, for some reason, nobody refused the offer of a hand job! Afterwards, comments might be that it was as good as by a woman, but usually that it was hot that a guy was performing this service for him.
If I liked the man, I'd offer to share the shower after the massage. The first time I did this, after we washed each other's intimate parts with flannels, I stood behind the older, slim man -- who had told me he was seventy but looked in his fifties -- and gently but firmly held my arms around him his chest and, as the water came down, heard his sobbing. I held my head close to him and kissed his neck. He turned around and gave me a lingering tongue kiss before bending down and giving me a blowjob as the water cascaded down. It was perhaps only then that I realised that I was genuinely helping men with their innermost desires and anxieties. It wasn't just about me. I was almost becoming a sort of body therapist as they revealed who they really were: vulnerable, and needing the affection that only a man could give them. That man later told me he hadn't had sex for years.
I began to do weights in the spare room three times a week, and to eat more healthily. After all, besides looking good, I needed to build up strength for these strenuous massages. My sex life consisted solely of my clients. I started getting checked regularly for STDs.
I would sometimes masturbate thinking of all the formerly straight men who because of me were now gay, going about their lives in a new, revitalised, and hopefully happier way. Only the healing touch of a man's hands, and being able to touch back, and ideally even more, really helps some damaged men. Like me, some were hurt by the jeers of entitled women when they shyly tried to get a date, while others had probably been gay all their lives without realising it.
One day, by which time I was charging a healthy rate for my services, and often getting good tips, a client on his second visit asked, when we were finished, an interesting question.
"I rather like the idea of a threesome. Do you think that could be arranged?"
I was rather taken aback by Victor. He had shown in the session that he could be quite dominant, as well as a quick learner in comparison to his first visit, when he had told me that he'd never had gay sex. This may have been an exaggeration. He was short, in his forties, living by himself, and not bad looking. And very cocky.
I immediately replied "That's a four-hands massage. Tom, another masseur in this city, offers that."
"Yes, I know", Victor replied, "and it was quite nice when I went there last week." I mentally made another note to add him to the list of clients for whom condoms would be mandatory. "But it felt weird, as I was with two experienced men. I expected a lot. Only one of them fucked me, and he wouldn't suck me, or allow me to suck him. I was pissed off, to be frank."
Wow, Victor had really changed in a short time. He had certainly seemed a confident man when I first met him. You need that, he told me, to perform his job as a bond dealer in the City of London. He had also seemed quite straight. He didn't sound very straight now.
"What did you have in mind", I asked.
"You, me and another newish client of yours. I'd like to watch you with him, and you watching both of us, and the three of us clinging onto each other... and all the stuff you see in the porno films."
My cock twitched. Yes, that certainly sounded good. I pondered. How would I raise the question with another client? I talked a bit more with Victor, and although masseurs aren't supposed to contact their clients he gave me permission to do so if I could find a third man. I wondered how it would work with Victor hardly being the typical submissive, raw and new as he was. I pondered the problem. Although I regarded myself as relatively submissive I was probably going to be a dom, a top, with two more or less straight men. We definitely needed a submissive to make up the set of three if Victor was going to be included.
By chance, only a week later I came across a suitable candidate in Cedric.
He was a rather overweight man, in his fifties, not bad looking -- and terrified. He told me that he was an accountant. He muttered, fear in his eyes, that he was straight (with no sexual life) but wondered if intimacy with a man was going to be exciting for him. I noticed the wedding band at once. As usual I turned him -- rather easily, as it happened -- so he was won over to seeing men as sexual partners by the end of the session. He was clearly excited by our time together, so I made my move after we had showered together.
