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Massage Relief - Beginnings

This encounter occurred some years prior to my discovering the joys of male sex. I like to kayak and hike, and was on a trip to central Colorado to do just that. I spent a couple of days kayaking on the Arkansas River with a friend I had known since college, and then climbed one of the 14,000 plus foot peaks in the area. It was an arduous climb, even though I was in good shape.

I had begun the climb in the dark of early morning, to make and clear the peak before the usual afternoon thunderstorms, and had returned in late afternoon. I decided to stay the night at a nearby rustic lodge that featured hot springs.

As I checked in, the middle-aged guy at the desk mentioned that they gave massages, as well. I didn’t think too much about it, and settled in and then went to one of the private screened hot tubs fed by spring water to soak. I stripped naked and enjoyed the warm (actually, hot) water.

It had been several days since any sexual activity, so I enjoyed stroking myself to a full erection as I enjoyed the water and the private setting. I didn’t realize how sore I was until I got out of the tub. The idea of a massage was becoming more appealing. I quickly dressed (the evaporation on wet skin in cool air at very low humidity is quite chilling), went to the office, and made an appointment for early evening. It had been a long time since I had a massage, so I was a little apprehensive about what to expect.
At the appointed time I went back to the office to meet the masseuse. As it turns out, it was the same guy that checked me in. I paid, and followed him around to a separate room. I was noticing his tan and slender, athletic build.

He showed me to the table and told me to get comfortable. He said that most of his clients wore nothing, but that I could do whatever was comfortable. He said he would return in a few moments. I thought what the heck, took everything off, got on the table, and lay face down with a large towel across my midsection.

He returned, asked about what kind of oil, and then got started. His hands were strong and experienced. He worked over my back, neck, legs, and yes my ass. His fingers occasionally slipped into my ass crack in a teasing kind of move. I am anal erotic, and so I found myself becoming aroused.

Without really thinking about it, I opened my legs just a bit, which only brought more of the teasing. I started to wonder what was really going on here. My imagination was interrupted when he told me to turn over. I wasn’t quite sure what to do, because by now I was fully aroused.

I slowly turned over, making sure that the towel covered me. But, there was no way that I could hide the prominent outline of my hard cock. He carried on professionally, and sensing my predicament, assured me that it was a common occurrence and to just relax.

Again, he worked me over from head to foot, carefully avoiding the part below the towel. His hands would occasionally slip under the towel all the way up to my balls, which only served to arouse me further. I was confused and surprised by my reaction, because I considered myself straight and had never really entertained thoughts about male sex.

He obviously could see from my ring that I was married. At the moment, a thousand miles from home, it didn’t seem to matter. As he was about to finish, he casually asked with a coy smile if I wanted the total works. I was pretty sure I knew what he was referring to, and so I said yes.

He got some more oil, and slid the towel off, revealing my full erection. I watched as he slowly began to massage my throbbing shaft. His touch was electric, and I let out an audible gasp. He watched my face as his expert hands began their sensual, erotic movements. He knew just how to rub and stroke, focusing on my sensitive plum-shaped knob.

I gave myself completely to him, arching my back, tilting my head back, closing my eyes, and spreading my legs. I was uttering unintelligible groanings as his hands made love to me, releasing new kinds of passion with which I was heretofore unfamiliar, bringing me to the point of no return. I stiffened, began a long moan, and exploded in powerful orgasm, shooting rope-like strands of cum up and over my shoulder onto the pillow.

It took me a few minutes to recover from the spasms. In the meantime, he carefully cleaned me up with a warm washcloth. I noticed from the bulge in his trousers that he was excited by this as well. I thanked him, dressed, and left him a nice tip. I wasn’t sure how to explain it, but I had the unmistakable feeling that something significant had taken place.

I went back to the room, stripped, washed the oil off, and fell fast asleep in the bed. I woke up in the night with a terrible headache; the altitude does that. I took some Tylenol, and lay back down. I was still thinking about what had happened, and I found myself aroused once again by the thought of what his hands had done to me. I stroked off to another strong orgasm, and slept like a baby the rest of the night.

In hindsight, if I had known what I know now, I would have pulled down his trousers, sucked him to full hardness, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and begged him to take me deep and hard until he filled me with his seed. But, that would have to wait for years later.

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