by J. M. Snyder
With that, she stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her, leaving Mitch alone.
Disrobe as much as you’re comfortable. If he were honest, Mitch had to admit he didn’t think taking off any clothing would make him more comfortable at all. But he unbuckled his jeans and pulled down the zipper, then shucked off his shirt and undershirt. Folding them neatly, he set them on the indicated stool, then caught sight of a small stack of gratuity envelopes on the top of the table. He had a ten in his pocket specifically for the masseuse—living with Daryl had taught him other service workers should be tipped, not just waiters and valets. He wondered if he should leave the money now, or wait until after she was finished. Would she give him time alone to leave it? He didn’t want her to see him tip…
She has to leave so I can get redressed, he thought. So he’d leave it then. Really, was everyone so uptight about getting a massage?
He kicked off his shoes, then pulled down his jeans and folded them on top of his shirt. He thought a moment, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his briefs. On or off? If he were going for really relaxed, then off. But if he kept them on and got hard from her touch, then at least the briefs would help tamp down his erection. On then. Socks, too. This wasn’t Daryl, after all.
Feeling naked despite his underwear, Mitch climbed onto the table. It was sturdier than it appeared, and the warmth rising up from the padding made his muscles melt. He lay on his back and felt as if his whole body had just let go. For a long moment, he savored the sensation, then he remembered the sheet and had to pull it out from under him before he could cover himself. The cushion took some positioning to get just right under his knees, but then he was ready.
Did he have to call her or something? Had she said? He couldn’t remember…
Relax. Yes, he remembered her saying that. On the heated table, cocooned between the warm padding and the warm sheet, he felt as if he could maybe finally loosen up a little. The dim lighting helped. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. He just might enjoy this after all.
* * * *
In the hallway, Daryl handed Erin a twenty. “Easiest money I’ll ever make,” she said, speaking softly so her voice wouldn’t carry. She folded the bill and tucked it into her pocket. “How am I supposed to look busy for the next hour or so? We already had lunch.”
“Take my 12:30,” he said. “It’s a new client so she’s never seen me before. She shouldn’t be too upset. Just tell them up front we switched.”
Erin grinned. “Sure thing. Have fun.”
“I plan on it.” He watched her head down the hall towards the quiet room, where his client was probably already waiting. When she disappeared around the corner, he took a deep breath and put his hand on the door knob. Mitch was waiting on the other side, and the fact that he didn’t know about the switch made Daryl nervous and giddy.
Why? This is Mitch. He’s my lover, my best friend. We already do this all the time.
True, he knew it was Mitch. But Mitch wouldn’t know it was him. And that seemed deliciously naughty for some reason.
Gently, he knocked on the door.
* * * *
“Come in,” Mitch said. He kept his eyes closed. Erin had said relax, so he intended to do just that.
He heard the door open and shut. He heard the faint click of a lock. He expected her to say something, but she didn’t, and then realized that was probably part of the ambiance. No talking, nothing stressful, just peace and quiet. He thought he might enjoy this, after all.
Behind his closed eyelids, he noticed the light darken as the room was dimmed even more. A strong, warm hand closed around the bicep of his right arm, a comforting gesture, nothing more. He heard movement around the massage table, then the soft sound of a drawer being opened. Something warm and scented covered his eyes. Hands guided him to raise his head, and an elastic strap was eased over the back of it.
An eye mask. He’d heard Daryl mention them, but Erin hadn’t said she’d use one. Unless it was to enhance the mood. It smelled of lavender and citrus, and the gentle pressure on his sinuses felt good. He breathed in deep. Yes, he was beginning to enjoy himself.
And, he was pleased to note, he didn’t feel the least bit turned on. Just…well, free, actually. Almost like he were floating. When the soft sounds of the ocean began to murmur from hidden speakers, he could easily picture himself lost at sea, adrift, rocking to sleep to the motion of the tide.
The massage started at his shoulders. Firm hands kneaded his muscles and he felt the tension there dissipate. For a slight woman, Erin had strong hands, Mitch thought. Fingers dug into his shoulders, working his muscles, relaxing him further. The massage moved to his throat and chin, then his face, then the top of his head. His scalp began to tingle, and for the first time since he had laid down on the table, he felt a stirring in his crotch.
Ignore it, he told himself.
Easier said than done.
From his scalp, the hands moved down the nape of his neck and under him. He was lifted slightly off the table as his back was rubbed. His weight helped, pressing the hands into his taut muscles and breaking down the tension coiled there. Fingers teased along his spine. He felt another twinge in his groin and shifted uneasily.
He wouldn’t get turned on by this, he promised. He wouldn’t let himself get turned on.
But it was difficult to ignore the heated breath fluttering over his left ear, or the hands so intimately rubbing his body. He was relieved when the masseuse extracted her arms from under him and took a step back, her fingers once again drawn to Mitch’s shoulders. There, he thought. Keep them there. That’s a safe place.
Or was it?
The hands rubbed over Mitch’s chest—lightly at first, almost experimenting, glancing over the sheet he had pulled up to his collar bone. One finger brushed his nipple slightly and it hardened beneath the fabric. A spark of lust spiraled through him, from nip to cock tip, and he was glad he hadn’t removed his briefs. His dick swelled in the tight confines of his underwear, ignoring his silent plea to go limp. It had been an accidental touch, nothing more. Nothing to get all worked up about, really.
Then the finger found his nipple again. This time it wasn’t an accident, Mitch knew; the finger pressed down on the tiny erection, then rubbed in a circular manner, exciting the nipple further. Another finger found his other nip, and it, too, was teased and tickled into standing up.
Mitch opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. Really, what could he say? Maybe she didn’t know some men were hyper-sensitive to nipple play. Even Daryl hadn’t realized how much Mitch enjoyed his nipples being tweaked when they first started dating. Once he found out, though, he invariably concentrated on Mitch’s chest when they made love. Nothing got Mitch hotter than having his nipple pinched or bitten…
As if reading his thoughts, the masseuse pinched both of his nipples at the same time, hard.
Mitch gasped. In his briefs, his cock throbbed. That was it, this had gone far enough. Half-sitting, he let the sheet fall away from him as he pulled up the eye mask. “Look, that’s—”
Inappropriate, he had been going to say, but the word dried up in his throat when he saw Daryl’s grin.
Confused, Mitch asked, “Wait, what?”
“I saw you in the quiet room,” Daryl admitted, “and I asked Erin to switch with me. So is this a cheap attempt to spy on me? See what it is I do all day? Is that it?”
“I—no,” Mitch protested, but he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You always say I should try it out, see for myself. So I thought, why not?”
“And you didn’t ask for me?” Daryl pouted as if hurt.
Mitch sighed. “I knew if I got you, we’d end up making love. We always do.”
“I’m at work,” Daryl reminded him, sounding shocked Mitch would suggest they might do anything inappropriate. “I am a professional.”
“I know.” Mitch ducked his head, chastised. “I’m sorry. I’ll go if you want.”
A
sly grin crept across Daryl’s face. “Oh no, mister. You’ve paid for an hour’s massage, and that’s what you’re going to get. I don’t know about you, but I’m already hard as a rock—” he cupped his crotch for emphasis, “—and I paid Erin off to leave us alone, so I’m getting my money’s worth.”
Daryl placed a hand on Mitch’s shoulder to lay him down again. “You paid her off?” Mitch asked. “Really, hon, we can do this at home—”
“We can do this here,” Daryl corrected. He ran a hand over Mitch’s body, feeling it beneath the sheet. At his waist, Daryl stopped and plucked the elastic waistband of his briefs. “These have to come off, though.”
Mitch couldn’t agree more. Raising his legs, he reached under the sheet and hooked his thumbs in the elastic, then pulled the briefs down. Daryl helped, guiding them over Mitch’s knees and feet before dropping them to the floor. He also removed the cushion so Mitch’s legs could lay flat on the table.
Released from his underwear, Mitch’s cock rose beneath the sheet like a flagpole. Daryl fisted it through the fabric. “Now that’s what I’m looking for,” he said, squeezing gently. Mitch felt the sensation from his toes to his crown. “I knew working your nipples would get you hard.”
“How are we going to do this?” Mitch asked. He gasped as Daryl kneaded his length through the sheet.
“You’re going to lie back and enjoy yourself,” Daryl told him. “Relax. Let me take care of you, babe. That’s what you came for, isn’t it?”
* * * *
Releasing his lover’s cock, Daryl rubbed his way back up Mitch’s stomach. “Let’s try something,” he proposed. Before Mitch could comment, Daryl pulled the eye mask back into place.
Mitch’s hands fluttered to his face. “Why?”
“It’ll heighten your senses,” Daryl said. He leaned down and gently, oh so gently, touched his lips to Mitch’s. When Mitch opened his mouth, though, Daryl pulled out of reach. The moment Mitch closed his lips, Daryl kissed him again, just as tenderly. This time he licked his tongue over Mitch’s mouth, outlining it. Then he caught Mitch’s lower lip between his teeth and tugged gently.
Mitch curled his hands into fists in the sheet. “This is maddening,” he growled.
“You’re enjoying it,” Daryl said. And, from the erect pole tenting the sheet at Mitch’s crotch, it was very obvious he was enjoying it, every minute.
Before Daryl returned to the massage, he took a moment to strip off his clothes. Instead of folding them neatly on the stool as Mitch had, though, he left them in a pile on the floor where it fell. He fondled his dick and balls a moment, just enough to get things started, then opened a drawer on the side of the massage table and found a tube of warming oil. He squirted a liberal dollop in his hands and rubbed them together, the oil warming to his touch. Then he began kneading Mitch again.
Daryl worked the tension out of Mitch’s muscles, starting with his left arm and leg. He did his best to ignore the stiff dick under the sheet—that part he’d save for last. But he massaged the oil around Mitch’s left nipple, tweaking and pinching until the tender bud was red and swollen and Mitch moaned with want. Working his way down, Daryl concentrated on Mitch’s fingers, slathering them with the oil, then spent as much loving care on Mitch’s feet, massaging each toe, as well.
Mitch drew in a quick breath as Daryl’s thumb strummed up his insole. The sheet quivered as Mitch’s cock jerked and curved in response. So there was a new erogenous zone Daryl hadn’t realized might elicit a response from his lover. Daryl mimicked the move and saw a damp spot discolor the sheet right above the tip of Mitch’s dick.
His lover was close to losing it, but Daryl didn’t want to rush through with the best part. So he turned his attention to Mitch’s calf and thigh muscles, first those on the left leg, then those on the right. Then he worked his way around the table and up along Mitch’s right side, fingers palpating as he went. It was a standard, full-body massage, but there were little differences he pulled out just for his lover. The hand darting between the thighs to rub Mitch’s scrotum, the slicked finger dipping lower to press against Mitch’s puckered asshole, the hearty squeeze at the base of Mitch’s cock to keep him interested before Daryl moved on.
On the other side of the table now, Daryl spent as much time and attention on Mitch’s right arm and hand and nipple as he had on the left. This time, though, Mitch was closer to release, and when Daryl pinched his nip, his cock didn’t just flicker under the sheet. Instead, his hips rose up, thrusting, wanting, eager for release.
“Yes,” Mitch sighed. His hand closed over Daryl’s in a steely grip. “God, you’re teasing the hell out of me! If you’re going to get me, do it now, will you? I can’t hold back much longer.”
Daryl joked, “Spoilsport.”
He moved behind Mitch’s head and leaned over his lover to claim an upside-down kiss. It was just as erotic as the movies made it seem, and Daryl felt a heaviness in his groin as his own erection went from half-mast to yes, sir! Into Mitch’s mouth, he murmured, “Roll over, lover. Here comes the best part.”
Mitch did as he was told. The narrow table made it difficult, but Daryl assisted him. Before Mitch could lay down on his stomach, Daryl hurried around the side of the table and caught his jutting dick as it bumped beneath him. “Careful, babe. Don’t want to lose this.”
Daryl rubbed Mitch’s length, lubricating it well with the oil on his hand. Mitch thrust into his lover’s palm as he held himself up off the table on his hands and knees. “God, it isn’t going to last long if you keep playing with it,” he growled.
Daryl smacked his bare ass. “Then down, boy. I have plans for you.”
* * * *
On his stomach, Mitch lay with his head cushioned by a round, padded pillow with an opening for his face. His cock was a fierce ache throbbing against his stomach, and no position he tried seemed comfortable. Daryl guided his arms to his sides, then tapped the bottom of his buttocks enough to make Mitch jump. “Up.”
Mitch raised his ass in the air, one hand straying under him to tug on his swollen dick. He wanted release, and he wanted it now.
But Daryl pulled his hand away. “No playing with yourself,” he chastised. “That’s my job.”
“You’re good at it,” Mitch joked, his voice muffled by the padded pillow.
That earned him another slap on the ass.
Mitch tried to lower his rump, but Daryl warned, “Not yet.” Something warm and heavy slid beneath Mitch’s belly—the wedge cushion he’d removed earlier was tucked under Mitch for support. It raised his hips without any strain on his muscles, and his cock now lay alongside the end of the cushion, no longer trapped beneath his body. Daryl toyed with his balls a moment, tickling them, then ran a finger along the underside of his dick, making Mitch writhe with delight.
“Please,” Mitch sighed. He flexed his sphincter, trying to entice his lover. He wanted a hard, rough fuck, and he wanted it now.
“Patience,” Daryl said with a laugh. “I’m the professional here, remember? Let me do my thing.”
Mitch grunted. “And what’s that?”
Leaning over his lover, Daryl whispered into Mitch’s ear, “The best you’ve ever had.”
With maddening, deliberate slowness, Daryl started at Mitch’s shoulders again. Through the hole in the padded cushion, Mitch could see his lover’s feet and, above them, the half-erect dick poking from Daryl’s crotch. He stuck out his tongue as if to lick it, but he knew he’d never be able to reach that far, and he couldn’t. “You look like you’re ready to come yourself,” he murmured. “So why aren’t you inside me already?”
“I have a massage to finish,” Daryl told him.
The hands on his shoulders rubbed oil into his skin, kneading the tension out of the muscles in his back and neck. Then Daryl moved to one side and disappeared from Mitch’s view, but his touch never wavered. He massaged Mitch’s back and arm and hand, then his side, his leg, his foot again. When his thumb rubbed Mitch’s insole, the touch
was just as ticklish as it was before. Mitch squirmed with delight, raising his foot and arching his toes. “God, that’s the spot,” he said with a sigh.
Daryl took Mitch’s left foot in his other hand and rubbed both insoles, applying a steady pressure that seemed to build somewhere in the back of Mitch’s balls until he thought he’d explode. He rubbed his hips against the cushion, feeling the fabric tease his cock, and his hands fisted with need. That felt heavenly. Another few seconds and he’d squirt his load without giving Daryl a chance to fuck him.
At the last possible second, though, Daryl let go of Mitch’s feet and moved on. Up Mitch’s left side now, kneading and massaging his way back to Mitch’s shoulder. Then he leaned heavily on Mitch’s back, rubbing each vertebrae in Mitch’s spine. Tingling sensations flooded Mitch’s body, starting at his scalp and running all the way down to his toes. The hairs on his arms and legs and torso seemed to stand on end as Daryl worked along Mitch’s back. When he reached the small of Mitch’s back, he rubbed hard in the hollow above Mitch’s buttocks, and the tension in him seemed to dissolve.
Then Daryl started massaging his ass cheeks, grabbing and pushing and pulling, working the skin until it was pliant and ready. Mitch humped up into his lover’s hands, eager for more. Eager for release. “Please,” he sobbed, one hand edging toward his crotch.
Daryl moved it aside. “Hold steady now,” he said. “I’m coming up.”
The table shook a little as Daryl climbed up behind Mitch. “Will it hold?” he asked, a little worried. He could only imagine the looks on Daryl’s coworkers’ faces if they heard a crash and came rushing in only to find the two of them rutting on the floor like animals, mindless of the toppled table.
“It should,” Daryl told him. “It’s bottom-heavy. As long as we’re not too wild—”
“We can move to the floor.” Mitch started to push himself up.
A hand on his back kept him in place. “Not so fast there, cowboy. I’m still calling the shots. Lay down, officer, and that’s an order.”