When he came back in the room I heard him laugh. So this time he had left me the options of that tiny towel and a regular sized towel - which definitively reassured me that this massage would be similar to the last! The first time he had given me a massage, on his first day of work, he got nervous and spilled oil all over me, and then he couldn't find a towel so he ended up covering me up with a towel that was just a little bigger than a wash cloth. He grinned as he left the room, and I realized why when I looked at the massage table.
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"I saved the towel we used last time, or you can use a full sized towel if you would rather." "So I can step out for a minute while you get undressed," Jim said. I suspected, or at least imagined, that he didn't have anything on under the silk pants. I also noted that Jim was dressed even more casually than before, with a simple t shirt, a pair of black silky looking pajama pants, and slippers. It was warm and cozy, the perfect setting for an erotic massage. In addition to the incense, dim lights and rhythmic music, he had also lit some candles. He led me down the hall to the massage room, which I couldn't help but notice had even more of a sensuous feel to it. Jim welcomed me with one of those handshake and shoulder to shoulder man hugs that men do, and locked the door behind me so we knew it would just be the two of us. I spent the rest of the week in a state of semi arousal just thinking about it.įriday afternoon finally rolled around and I showed up just after closing time, my stomach full of butterflies. He even joked about making it past closing time, so I felt pretty confident that he was on the same page. I was nervous when I made the call, but he seemed happy to hear from me and more than willing to set up another session. And before I knew it, I had made the call to Jim and set up another late afternoon massage session.
The more I thought about doing it again, the more I started planning it. The more I thought about it, the more I found myself thinking about doing it again. The thing that made it especially erotic to me was that when I thought about stroking his cock, I also thought about how it would feel. I thought a lot about how his cock looked, hard and oily, and how it felt sliding through my fingers. Oddly I spent more time thinking about pleasuring him. I kept remembering what it felt like to slowly stroke him off, and how great it was when he did me. It had been intriguing, but not something I wanted to do again.īut over time, I kept having memories, dreams, thoughts.even fantasies about the experience.
It had been an incredibly erotic experience, but I kinda made the decision that once was enough for that particular type of adventure.
It had been something that neither of us had planned, neither of us were gay, it just kind of happened. Some unexpected contact, some unanticipated arousal, and some spilled oil led to a mutually satisfying hand job session. Jim was still learning and did it for half price. Just to quickly recap, I had gone into my regular massage place and Kelly, my long time female massage therapist, had been out, and a new guy had convinced me to let him do the massage. Ironically, the project would have made M-DNA testing possible via a revolutionary furless and felt-free M-DNA extraction methodology.It had been a few months since my first ever massage by a man turned into my first ever sexual experience with another guy. Shortly after the White House conference on (fabricated) Muppet fur and felt clogging the nation’s DNA testing equipment, the NIH seized all documents and ended all activities related to the Bunson Honeydew Project. Advances in Muppet DNA research and testing have come to a standstill due to funding restrictions under Trump-administration’s anti-Muppet “Fearless Furless Felt-Free America” policies. *From what I've read on and other human-puppet ancestry websites, reliable Muppet DNA testing is still years away. It is only speculation at this point because of the ongoing controversy around Muppet-Human genetic research*, but it would certainly explain my ongoing struggles with finger-typing and text-messaging, general ineptitude when it comes to utensil holding, why my mom’s “craft room” was always off limits, and shed some light on my natural tendency to widely open my mouth, throw my head back, and wiggle my arms when laughing or excited. I’m pretty sure my real biological father is a Muppet. RentMen: What would you like your readers to know about you that is unique and even a bit personal?