A visit to the erotic massage parlor
– How old are you? she asked.
– Thirty, I said.
He sat next to me, his eyes fixed on a list he had placed next to where I sat on the massage table as he put on a pair of black latex gloves. The paper sat on the side of the empty ribcage, and the gentle thump she gave me as she set it down made me even more aware of my nakedness in front of her. I was covered only with a white towel around my waist.
– Have you ever had an erotic prostate stimulation massage before?, she asked.
– I did not say.
My voice trembled slightly.
– Interested in getting a prostate massage today?
I paused and she looked past me disinterestedly. After a sufficiently long interval, she clarified:
– Only with my fingers.
He waited, then said:
– Sir, you can say no.
– We can try, uhh, yes, we can try next time, maybe, I stammered.
She looked at me briefly, then looked back at her checklist. He was reading by the light of an ordinary desk lamp, the kind students use. She was sitting on the table next to my left shoulder and the room light dimmed to a lazy glow. It landed lightly on her pale skin. She was wearing a black sports bra and green yoga pants. Her brown hair was wavy and wrapped around a tight bun at the nape of her neck that threatened to pull the strand of hair from her scalp.
– When was the last time you ejaculated?
“About three days ago,” I said, scrunching my face into a faint facsimile of deep thought, as if I hadn’t remembered that I’d dumped a bunch of cum on my stomach just that morning while I was having fantasizing about how this conversation might go.
-Three days? she said, unconvinced.
– Yeah, something like that, I really don’t remember having a busy week at work and…
I stopped. She looked at me over her big brown glasses before sighing deeply and shaking her head almost imperceptibly before turning back to her checklist. Her gaze did not come close to the growing tent under the towel in front of her. While my decency originally covered everything from my navel to my knees, it was now slowly raised and gathered as my cock braced itself for what was about to happen.
– How often do you usually ejaculate?
– Once or twice a day, I said. She nodded in a way that said that was the answer she was expecting.
With another sigh of monotony, she reached up and removed her glasses from her face and placed them on a desk behind her. For about a minute he fiddled with other items I couldn’t see on that desk and then said:
– Okay, then let’s move on with the process.
He turned and reached for the towel. Now he was sitting comically on my waist and was rocking up and down, begging for attention.
Without hesitation, he took the towel and placed it on the table next to me. My erect cock jumped free in an enthusiastic salute as he coated his gloved hands in lube from the bottle on his belt. The lube smelled strongly of hand sanitizer and felt cold when she spread it on my testicles.
– Your testicles started running the moment I took the towel off, she laughed. I hope they are cold and not afraid of me.
I had no response as all the blood in my body was now rushing to my ever expanding cock. Her hands slowly traveled from my testicles up, swirling back and forth to spread the lube into every nook and cranny of my skin. When he reached my rosy, circumcised head, he paid close attention to the tip with the fingers of both hands. I started moaning and pushing my cock up, physically begging her to stroke the entire shaft. She doesn’t notice; her eyes were looking out the window at the parking lot bathed in late afternoon light, and her hands were twisting and pumping up and down only on my sensitive and now fully erect head.
After about thirty seconds of stimulation, I began to arch my back off the exam table and silently hoped that he would look me in the eyes so he could see how close I was to climax and maybe slow down a bit. Finally, without slowing at all, she looked away from the window and focused her eyes right on my exposed genitalia in her hands. As soon as she focused on the task at hand, I felt my body shake and my testicles tighten at the base of my scrotum. I looked down, hoping to see a brave stream of sperm shoot from my throbbing cock. In the back of my mind, I was hoping it might launch far enough to hit his body, or even his face if it was aimed right.
My genitals jerked on the table with the force of my orgasm. My penis vibrated in her hands and began to expel sperm in a pulsating and energetic river. My breathing was shallow and rapid, and I watched with physical bliss and mild frustration as her cum dripped onto her gloved hand, which was still twisting and squeezing in a tight rhythm right inside the head of my cock.
She slowed her twisting over my glans and finally slowed the movement of her hands to a stop, like a steam engine reaching its destination. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly with a smile as she looked up and finally met my eyes.
-Three days for this load, right? she said with a slight smile.
Without a word, she grabbed a roll of paper towels from the table next to her and handed it to me. She walked over to the trash can in the corner and pulled off her latex gloves with two loud thuds and went to her desk to jot down a few more notes on her checklist. I tore off a single paper towel and took my shrinking cock from the little pool of sex on my abdomen so I could clean up the mess. As I wiped my load, she put down her pen, picked up her checklist and said:
– OK sir, thank you for your visit and be sure to check with the front desk if you are interested in making another appointment.
