More Gay Adventures with Masseurs

These are both true stories. Only the names have been changed.

My wife and I were planning to move for family reasons to a town on the coast. Shortly before we moved, I visited for the day to meet a masseur, Robert, who had a candid website with glamorous photos of himself, pouting at the camera. His 6 foot 4 inch frame, wearing woman's underwear, certainly looked appealing.

He told me that he lived in a basement or garden apartment, so I would have to go down steps to get to his front door. His rather effeminate voice over the phone assured me that the neighbours knew nothing about what he did -- that is, offer sexy encounters for, mostly, straight married men, whom he said he preferred to gay men. He also made it clear that he was a "bottom". Pity, so was I. He was also a couple of decades younger than me.

The appointment was for 11 am. A few minutes before the time I walked past and saw that, as promised, the front door was an inch or two open. I waited until 11 and pushed open the door and called out. Robert came bounding forward, a big smile on his lips, and began chatting right away. Within thirty seconds he was feeling my flaccid cock through my clothes as he made a joke. He was quite a contrast to my previous masseur, Tom, who only spoke when he needed to.

I said that I was rather nervous and was immediately given a glass of red wine which I rushed down my throat (I am practically teetotal!). He explained that we wouldn't do anything I didn't want to. He left me to undress and get on the massage table in his massive living room. At the back was a huge window into a garden surrounded by tall walls. The front windows were veiled so no one could see inside in that direction.

A nude Robert came in and began massaging me, telling me in exquisite detail the story of his life, commencing from being a steward on an international airline (I bet he was good at it), having to leave that because of epileptic fits, and about his generous disability pension from the airline. He told me that he much preferred straight men in his life, especially if they were married. I began to relax -- it would be up to me what happened, clearly.

After about ten minutes, as he was facing me and working away on my back, I reached out for his cock and began to suck it. I thought it looked weird as it was the first uncircumcised cock I'd ever pleasured. I don't suppose I was much good, but he was kind enough to moan. I was so naïve I didn't realise that you could roll the top down.

Before long we were on the carpet and he was sucking me. Although I am a natural submissive, I forcefully asked him to nod if he knew that he was sucking off a straight, married man. He nodded, his mouth full of cock. I then asked if he minded our going to the bedroom. He happily agreed. Hence I was at last introduced to gay love making on a bed, as well as to doing it 69-fashion. It didn't occur to me to suggest that I take him in his anus, something I regret, and which I know he'd have been happy to agree to (with a condom, as his website made clear). It was very sexy making love on his big bed next to a large window facing onto the private garden, knowing that the people in the apartments above had no idea what was going on.

After a while we just lay there, holding hands, chatting away. I told him a lot about myself, and learnt yet more about him, which I'll keep private. He was one of the most genuine and kindest persons I'd ever met. "You're sweet", I told him. "So are you", he replied, to my surprise. The lovemaking wasn't special physically, but as it was with someone so nice I didn't mind.

A few months later, after we'd moved, and before I had a chance to book another massage, Covid hit. All the massage venues in the town closed. When I checked for his name, even as a temporarily closed business, it was gone.

Meanwhile, shortly after we'd moved in, both my wife and I had booked sessions with a masseur, Vincent. Unlike my four previous gay lovers, who were young enough to be my sons, he was about my age, short (I am six foot), and rather rotund. He had a slightly effeminate voice. He didn't look appetizing, but had a twinkle in his eye and was obviously highly intelligent and well read. He lived with his lover, Jack, who was recovering from a serious illness.

Vincent proved himself an excellent masseur, and both my wife and I were singing his praises, she for his skill, me because he was also very interesting to talk to (she is somewhat deaf so never talks during massages).

On the second massage, a few minutes in I asked if he minded if I removed my underwear, whereupon without a word he swiftly dragged them off (which I found very sexy) and dropped them in a basket. He was in shorts and t-shirt, his usual attire whenever I saw him. Again and again he gently brushed past my slowly stiffening cock as he worked on my inner thighs. At the end of the massage I suddenly realised that, without a word, he had lifted my cock and was sucking it, slowly moving his head in and out. At my age it's rather insensitive.

He didn't physically appeal to me, but it excited me that he was cheating on his partner in their own house, and that he regularly massaged my wife. I thought, why not, he clearly needs the comfort of sucking a man. Like my first gay lover, James, he clearly adored cocksucking as he continued for about ten minutes. I asked him to pull his shorts down and sucked his three-inch (circumcised) cock. He didn't smile when he bent down to briefly kiss me, suck my nipples, or shove a finger up my bottom. Yet he was crazed with lust every time we were together. Not so crazed that he didn't turn down my suggestion that he take me in the bottom, saying it was too dangerous with Jack elsewhere in the house.

Afterwards when I was paying him in the front room, and saying goodbye, the twinkle was back, but no comment was made by either of us about what had just happened.

I saw Vincent another three times and it followed exactly the same pattern. I did wonder if his lover guessed what was happening, as he gave me a dirty look when I said hello in the hallway the last time I was there. Then Covid arrived, and Vincent temporarily closed the business. Even when it was legal to reopen he kept it closed to, he told me by text, protect Jack who was still vulnerable. I'm sure I'll see him again. To date I've have about ten gay encounters, all in my mid to late sixties, and all paid for as massages.