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My Sports MassageArriving with a feeling of anticipation, and a little apprehension, I hesitate briefly before knocking. I’ve not done this before, so I don’t really what to expect.Opening the door, you greet me with a warm, friendly smile and invite me in.You’re wearing a close fitting masseur’s tunic, which zips up at the front and reaches down to just below your hips, but intriguingly, as far as I can tell, not much else.“You’re here for a massage right?” you ask, “what sort of massage was it you wanted?”I reply, “Well, you said you could do a sports massage”.You nod and add, “Sure I can do that . . . do you have any areas that require my special attention?” “Well, I have been getting a lot of stiffness lately . . .“ I respond.“Oh really . . . where?” you inquire as you flash me a cheeky smile.“My thighs” I reply, “. . . you see I do a lot of cycling”. “Well, I think I can help you with that” you remark, adding “but are you sure that’s all?”I nod my head and you turn around adding “OK, come along then . . . let’s see if I can bring some relief to that stiffness of yours.”As I follow you through to the massage room I can’t take my eyes off your attractive bottom, which is barely covered by your short tunic. Entering the room I notice that it is warm, clean and spells pleasantly of incense. You close the door behind us and tell me to undress. I remove my clothes as you busy yourself arranging the massage oils and tidying the couch. You don’t seem to be in any hurry and leave me standing self-consciously in my underwear as you finish preparing things. Passing in front of me you ‘accidently’ drop a small towel on the floor. I feel a twinge of embarrassment when you leisurely bend over to pick it up and flash your panties at me. You slowly stand up straight, and turning around to face me apologise “Sorry about that . . . I seem to be very clumsy today”.“Go on then, take your pants off” you demand as you hand me the small towel – I say towel, it’s really just a thin piece of cloth and hardly adequate to the task. Clutching it close to protect my modesty, I remove my underwear and lie face down on the couch. Reaching behind, I arrange the piece of material to cover my behind as best I can.Pouring oil over my back you begin the massage. The feel of your soft, warm, lubricated hands as they glide over my skin and work my shoulders, neck, arms and hands, is so relaxing. Shutting my eyes, I can feel myself finally begin to let go. Repositioning yourself at the far end of the couch you begin to massage my feet and calves. Then shifting around to the side of the couch, you run your hands slowly up the backs of my legs. True to your word, you spend several minutes working my thighs – giving them a thorough going over, from both sides of the couch. Using your palms you gently part my legs a fraction. “So is this where your stiffness come on?” you ask as you slowly slide your hands up the inside of my thighs. “Er . . . yes” I reply rather awkwardly.With each massage stroke your hands move higher up the backs of my legs, until your fingers begin to slip beneath the edge of the cloth to touch my buttocks. “Ops, don’t want get oil on the towel” you remark, as you slowly pull the cloth away.The sensation of the cold oil as you dribble it all over my exposed bottom makes my finch. I wait as you put the bottle down and then feel the comforting touch of your warm well-lubricated hands as you start to knead my naked buttocks . . . softly at first . . . then more firmly. “I bet you get sore bahis siteleri here with all that cycling” you remark as you give my soft cheeks a thorough working over with your oily fingers and palms. Then you slide your hands over my bottom and down the backs of my thighs . . . as you repeat this action you reach further down between my legs . . . until your fingertips ‘inadvertently’ stroke an intimate place. “Ops, so sorry . . . clumsy me” you respond as I flinch is surprise. You continue massaging my buttocks and running your hands downs my inner thighs as if nothing had happened . . . then after a minute or two allow your straying fingers to touch my penis again . . . in fact you keep doing it . . . each time allowing your fingers to feel a little more.I can’t help giving a shudder each time you touch me there, but you shamelessly continue doing it without apologising. “Is this working? . . . is it helping with your stiffness?” you ask. “Er, yes I think so” I mumble, hoping you don’t notice it’s having the opposite effect. As you deliberately pour an excess of oil over my buttocks I feel the cool liquid begin to trickle down between my cheeks.“Oops . . . my hand slipped” you comment “don’t want to get any oil on the couch” you remark, as you slide your fingers down between my legs as if to catch any drips. “With all that cycling you must get hot and sweaty here” you comment, as you take the opportunity to massage between my legs and explore every nook and cranny with your mischievous fingers. Returning to my buttocks you begin to run your fingers up and down the crack between my bum cheeks . . . the sense of anticipation each time your finger tips pass over my bum hole has me teetering on the edge . . . until finally you ease your nicely lubricated finger inside me . . . I can’t suppress it any more and gasp with pleasure as you slide your finger in and out of my arse. Feeling my groin beginning to stir I raise my hips off the couch.Noticing this you smack me on the buttocks and adopting a strict tone, announce firmly “That’s quite enough of that . . . now turn around so I can do your front”.As I turn over, I clutch the cloth, and do my best to cover my erection. Settling back on the couch I try to relax as I wait for you to continue your massage. I feel so embarrassed and just hope you don’t notice.Looking down at me sternly, you pull the zip on your tunic down a few inches to reveal more of your ample cleavage. You carefully rub oil into your hands, and then learn over me and begin to massage my chest, shoulders and arms. I do my best to avert my gaze from your inviting chest. Moving a little closer, you slide your hands down over my tummy and lower abdomen. I feel a tinge of excitement as you slide your fingertips beneath the edge of the cloth and play with my pubic hair. Stepping back, you comment: “Phew, I’m warming up with all this work . . . would you mind unzipping me?”I sit up and oblige, and then giving a little wriggle you allow your tunic to fall to the floor. Standing only in your bra and panties you glance down at me saying, “Thank you, that’s much better”.Kicking the garment away, you move down to the end of the couch.I lie back as you begin to massage my feet and shins.After a while you shift around to the side of the couch, sliding your hands over my knees and up my legs as you go.Then pouring oil over my upper legs, you begin to massage my thighs, kneading the flesh gently but firmly. Your nicely oiled hands reach further and further up my leg each canlı bahis siteleri time, until your fingers are beginning to slide beneath the edge of the towel.“Is this nice . . . is this is helping with your tied muscles?” you ask, “Er, yes, I think so” I reply hesitantly. “Good . . .” you reply.Parting my legs, just a fraction, with your palms, you start to massage my inner thighs . . . with each stroke your hands creep further up my leg until eventually your wandering fingers ‘inadvertently’ brush against my scrotum.“Ops . . . so sorry” you remark somewhat insincerely, as I flinch in surprise at your touch. You continue massaging the inside of my thighs, repeating the indiscretion several times . . . deliberately allowing your fingers to feel a little more each time.“. . . sorry, I told you I was feeling clumsy today” you remark. I reply (a little awkwardly), “err . . . no . . . it’s fine”.“Really . . . you don’t mind?“ you respond, catching my eye.Then lifting the edge of the cloth up, you pour oil over my exposed scrotum and very gently begin to fondle my testicles – massaging them gently and playing with them teasingly in your fingers. I can’t help parting my thighs some more as you move your hand down to massage the exposed gap between my legs. “I bet you get saddle sore down here“, you remark glancing at me as you again explore every nook and cranny with your searching fingers.“Er . . . yes quite a bit” I whimper.Then gradually you reach under my buttocks and slowly slip a nicely lubricated, searching finger inside me. You throw me a dirty smile as I clinch my buttocks and gasp in erotic pleasure at the sensation.Standing up straight, you look down at me sternly and observing the growing bulge beneath the cloth you remark: “It looks to me like you are enjoying my sports massage . . . “What’s caused this then?” you enquire. “I don’t know” I reply.“I think you do . . .” you remark, as you squeeze your bust. “Have you been having dirty thoughts about these?”“Me? no” I respond.“Oh really . . . let’s see shall we?” you remark, as you remove your bra.Moving closer, you start to massage my chest, playfully running your hands through my chest hair and teasing my nipples with your fingertips. You flash me naughty smile as you observe the bulge beneath the cloth bob up each time you give them a hard tug.Leaning forward, you suck hard first on one nipple, and then the other. Then leaning further over me, you slowly rock backwards and forwards, so that your plunging breasts are sliding gently over my chest. I can’t take my eyes off your voluptuous plunging breasts – the feel of their soft firmness stroking my skin is exquisite torture, which is so erotic that my erection under the tent shaped cloth is becoming harder and harder. Moving around to the end of the couch you lean forward over my head running your hands over my chest and down under the towel so that your fingers run through my pubic hair. Then leaning forward over me again so your pendulous breasts are hovering just above my face, you slide your hands down over my chest to my pubic area and then back up. Repeating this, you move back and forwards, reaching further down each time, so that your hands slide further beneath the towel and feel down between my legs to fondle my testicles. Each time you do this you reach further, leaning lower over me, so that your plunging breasts are first stroking and then slapping my face.As I try to catch and lick on your gorgeous stiff nipples, you pull away suddenly wiggling canlı bahis your breast at me. “No you don’t . . . you’re not allowed to touch you naughty boy” you snap.Moving away, you look down at my crotch and ask sternly: “I hope you’re not making a mess under there on my nice clean towel?” . . . “Well are you?”I reply (with a distinct lack of conviction): “Err . . . no . . . of course not”.With a demanding look in your eye, you continue, “Let’s see, shall we?”Slowly you slide your hand under the towel to investigate.Observing the sticky wetness on your fingers, you remark sternly, “Tut . . . tut . . . what is this then? . . . I think I had better remove this before you make a mess on it.” As you pull the cloth away my erect penis bobs up with a jerk and you remark, “That’s better . . . well look at you . . . you naughty boy, you have been having dirty thoughts!” Casting the towel aside dismissively, you begin to pour oil all over my exposed groin area. As you teasingly slide your hands up my thighs, between my legs, over my tummy and around the base of my shaft, my swollen penis grows and stiffens in anticipation of your touch. I open my thighs wide as you massage the gap between my legs and fondle my scrotum. Then slowly sliding your hand beneath my buttocks, you ease your nicely lubricated finger inside me. Your give me a naughty smile as you observe that every time you ease your finger in and out of me, my erection bobs up and down. Cupping my scrotum you pull gently, easing my foreskin down to expose my now glistening head. Pre-come oozes out and starts to drip down. Scooping it up it with your finger, you glance at me, and remark, “You dirty boy . . . I took that towel away just in time!”Sliding your hands up the inside of my thighs you whisper, “I’ve dealt with the stiffness here” . . .Then moving closer to me, you look down at my groin and add, “. . . do you want me to relieve this stiffness here?”Unable able to resist your insatiable teasing, I reach up to grab your gorgeous breasts. Taking one in each hand, I delight in the warm, soft feel of your tits as I squeeze and fondle them. Then sitting up, and swiveling around, I lean forward and lick each of your nipples with my tongue and suck on them until they are standing erect. As I slide my hand down inside your knickers, you exclaim sternly, “And where do you think you’re going? Get back on the couch you naughty boy!!”Looking down at my large erection you remark, “You’re such a bad boy . . . you can’t control yourself can you? . . . Look at the size of your dirty big cock. It looks like you are going to burst!” I watch as you pour more oil over my erect cock, then gasp with pleasure as you teasingly play with the throbbing wet end of my penis with your fingertips. Caressing my balls with one hand, you form a ring with the finger and thumb of your other hand, which you slowly move up and down over the head of my erect penis. As you rhythmically move your finger and thumb up and down over my wet bulbous head pre-cum oozes out as if you are milking me. The erotic touch of your playful hands makes my shaft stiffen even more. Then fondling my testicles you whisper “Umm . . . you’ve got a nice full sack down here . . . I think it’s about time I emptied these don’t you?” Holding my testicles and the base of my penis firmly with one hand you caress my stiff shaft in your hand, rhythmically pumping up and down my full length . . . slowly at first . . . then fast and faster . . . up and down . . . up and down . . . I’m panting faster and faster and am about to cry out . . . when you suddenly move away . . . Quickly pulling off your panties you exclaim, “After all the work I’ve put in, I’m not going to let this nice big cock go to waste . . . . .”
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32