by Eli Easton
Brent swallowed a moan. The towel shifted as he grew harder.
“Would you like to try the lingam massage today?” River asked, his tone as neutral as if he were asking Brent if he wanted cream with his coffee.
But hearing the words said out loud caused Brent’s heart rate to pick up. “I guess.” He swallowed. “Not sure how it’ll go, but….”
“It’s just touch. Let it feel nice. It doesn’t have to go anywhere. Tantra is about enjoying sensation, energy—not reaching a destination.”
Right. River had told him that several times, but it was difficult, as a guy, not to focus on getting off, especially since he hadn’t in a long time. “Okay.”
“All right if I remove the towel?” River asked.
Brent nodded, eyes still closed. He swallowed a mouth full of saliva as River pulled the towel away. His dick sproinged a bit. God, how long had it been since he’d had an honest-to-God erection? River gently lifted one of Brent’s legs, then the other, and placed what felt like small pillows under each knee, tilting his legs slightly outward. Geez, he must be able to see everything.
Oh God. He can see everything.
As if encouraging Brent to relax, River placed his palms on Brent’s quads and rubbed light circles on his inner thighs with his thumbs. The circles got a little higher, and a little higher, until they were close to his balls. Which River could clearly see. The idea, and the touch, turned Brent on. A gush of heat washed through his groin. He felt his semi enlarge and trace a path up his belly. A long tremor went through him, and he clutched the edge of the futon with one hand.
It had been so long since he’d felt arousal like this. Just as the thought hit him, queasiness stirred in his belly, a trace of that tugging sensation, and it terrified him. Oh, no, not now. Please. He wanted this. He needed it.
“Shhh. Relax.” River rubbed Brent’s hand until he let go of the futon, and then he returned it loosely to Brent’s side. “Don’t think. Just breathe and feel my hands, right here, right now. Breathe with me. Like this.”
River’s breathing became loud and slow, sounding like a breathing machine. Right. Right. Brent needed to get back to that hypno-state. He mimicked River, focusing on the sound. In. Out. In. Out. His head got floaty, his thoughts quieted, and his body grew weighted on the futon.
River said nothing more, but the quality of the massage changed. He rubbed both hands, warm with fresh oil, up Brent’s calves and thighs, then over his hip bones, not touching his erection. With River now positioned between his legs, the direction of the touch felt much more intimate. Just knowing how exposed he was, and that River was right there, sent an electric frisson through Brent.
River’s hands moved up Brent’s ribs and chest, circling over his nipples, cupping his shoulders, then rubbing back down. All the while River breathed in that loud, slow way that was surprisingly sensual. Brent’s head spun, and the touch was so good—warm, firm, and tantalizing all at once. It excited the nerves along that pathway and radiated out in waves. His own next loud breath held a bit of a moan.
River did the motion up Brent’s body again and again. Then he did it closer. River’s bare chest and arms—when had he removed his shirt?—made contact as he moved upward, lengthening himself out over Brent’s body. As his hands circled up to Brent’s shoulders, his chest rubbed against Brent’s erection.
Oh God. Brent panted erratically, and he had a hard time not raising his hips. Then River’s entire body slid back down, rolling Brent’s cock between them until he straightened up again.
Brent moaned louder into his exhale this time. He trembled. He wasn’t sure he could stand it.
But River moved back up again, sliding with that delicious friction. His loud breaths reminded Brent to mimic him, to calm down. River’s skin was so slick and warm and smooth. Brent didn’t feel any chest hair, but he did feel plenty of plump, firm muscle. The sensation on his dick was exquisite.
Oh, Jesus. This was hot. This was… sex. He hadn’t been with anyone but Kathy in so long.
No, don’t think about that. Just feel.
Please. Please, please, please, please, please.
River’s sliding body was replaced by his hands. He slid one palm slowly up from Brent’s balls, over his cock, open-palmed, pressing it lightly into his stomach in a single upward stroke, first with one hand and then the other. Again, again.
Brent’s thighs shook, and he had to deepen his breathing. Oh God.
Maybe he should have been freaking out. Or worried. Or trying too hard. But, screw it, he just wanted to feel. And goddamn, it felt so good.
Those long, open-palmed strokes were replaced by River circling his cock with one slick fist and stroking up from base to tip with first one hand and then the other, always only doing a single upstroke at a leisurely pace. Then he reversed it, doing a single downstroke from tip to base, with first one hand and then the other.
It felt as good as anything Brent could ever remember feeling in his life, the friction was firm yet not trying to get him anywhere. It truly was a massage. Of his penis.
Oh, man. Whoever invented this was brilliant.
The different hand movements went on, each one more of a tease than the last, until Brent couldn’t even catalog them anymore. There was one where River polished the head of his cock with his open palm, another where he did a fisted upstroke with a twist, and another where he rubbed Brent’s penis between both palms, as if he were trying to start a fire. He ran his thumb up and down the underside vein, making tiny circles, the way he’d rubbed Brent’s spine. He massaged the frenulum with a thumb, cupped and smoothed his balls, and pressed with oily fingers around his perineum until he found a spot that made Brent utter a startled cry at the zing.
It was all teasing, and fantastic, and so different from the basic up-down, get-r-done stroke he’d used since he was a teenager. But after a while, Brent couldn’t stop his hips from lifting up, seeking more. More, please, more.
River switched to a fast up-and-down stroke using just one circled finger and thumb, cradling Brent’s balls with his other hands as he did it, and, Oh God, that was gonna get him there fast. But River only did it for a few seconds at a time, interspersed with other moves. He gradually used the up-down stroke longer and faster, but always stopped when Brent’s thighs started to tremble, returning to one of the teasing strokes.
Brent felt like he was harder than he’d ever been in his life, and it seemed like the lingam massage had been going on for ages. It was nice that River was in no hurry, but Brent’s balls were so tight they ached. He had a goddamn hard-on, and he wanted to come. He wanted to get there as a final proof that it was real before it all went poof somehow.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d come. Early in Kathy’s illness, probably.
“River,” he said, his voice a croak. He’d meant to say please or keep going or something less personal, because the name sounded like a lover’s moan coming from his lips.
But it did the trick.
“You want to ejaculate?” River asked, his voice a little thick too.
“Yeah.” Eyes still closed, Brent nodded for good measure. Yes, please. Please, please, please.
River resumed his hypnotic breathing, but his touch changed. He rubbed Brent’s thighs and balls again, then fisted Brent’s cock and began a delicious up-and-down stroke, pumping fast.
Brent moaned loudly. Jesus, that felt so… oh.
Before he could even think I’m there, I’m going to come, he was and he did.
It hit him with the suddenness and power of a bolt of lightning. His body bowed up and clenched as waves of delight ripped through him. It was nearly painful in its intensity, his dick pulsing four, five times as River stroked him through it.
When the waves finally receded, Brent fell back, exhausted and blissed out. Between the incense and the breathing and the massage and the orgasm… damn.
He was barely aware of River wiping down his stomach and putting the towel over him a
gain. There were the sounds of River moving around. Some part of Brent’s brain knew he probably looked dorky, just lying there, eyes closed and grinning like a virgin after his first blowjob, but he didn’t care.
Finally River put a soothing palm on his forehead. “Would you like me to help you to your bedroom?”
Oh. Of course. River needed the futon. He probably wanted to go. Session over. Brent felt a niggle of disappointment.
Hell, what did he expect? A cuddle?
Brent opened his eyes. River was squatting by the mat, looking at him. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. Fantastic.” Brent pushed himself to sitting, and River helped him to his feet.
The towel fell off, and there was an awkward moment where River got Brent into his robe.
“Sorry. Man. I’m out of it.”
“That happens.” River smiled. “Want me to help you down the hall?”
“No, I can walk.”
“Cool. You go lie down. I’ll let myself out.”
Brent went to the doorway and turned. “Um. River? Thank you. That was….”
River winked at him. “You’re welcome. And congratulations.”
Brent smiled all the way down the hall.
Chapter 5
Brent
“Holy shit! How much does this guy charge? And will you give me his number?”
A wave of annoyance flared in Brent. He put his salad fork down and took a sip of his beer. “He’s a licensed therapist, Sean. Not a call girl.”
“Spoilsport.” Sean grinned at him and took a big bite of his hamburger.
Like Brent, Sean had married his high school sweetheart. In fact, Sean and Sharon had gone to high school with Brent and Kathy at Center, and they’d been friends ever since. Sean didn’t cheat on his wife, so he was probably joking about wanting River’s number. Still. The idea of Sean getting a lingam massage from River was just… weird.
“So can we set you up with Annette now?” Sean asked. “Now that the engine is running again? Va-room, buddy! And you haven’t thanked me, by the way, for finding that sex clinic for you.”
“Endless gratitude,” Brent said dryly, though he was actually grateful. “As for dating, I’m not gonna rush into it.”
“Because…?”
“Because I’m not a jack rabbit. Geez. Give me some time to process.”
The dry look Sean gave him indicated he thought Brent had taken plenty of time already. “You should seriously live a little before you settle down again. Play the field while you’ve got the chance. Hell, you’re still young! And not bad looking. Or so I hear. Not that I think about your looks.” Sean made an exaggerated gagging sound.
Brent rolled his eyes. “You’re literally ten years old. You know that, right?”
“That’s two years older than Sharon pegs me for. I feel so mature suddenly. So are you gonna see this, uh, tantric guy again?”
Brent licked his lips. “My therapist says I should go as long as I want. Until I’m comfortable that I’ve worked through everything.”
“Uh-huh. Make sure you’ve reaaaaally worked things through. Might take, oh, ten, twelve more sessions.” Sean made a jerk-off gesture.
“Shut up, Sean.”
“Hey, I’m all for it!” Sean proclaimed before taking another huge bite.
As Brent ate his salad, he couldn’t help but muse that he was all for it too. He’d woken up feeling fantastic and rather smug. He’d jogged three miles that morning.
It was curious. He’d been resigned to losing his sex drive. With his depression and Kathy’s death, it just hadn’t seemed all that important in the grand scheme of things. Now it was obvious how much he’d missed it, how much it had dragged down his sense of self-worth to lose his sexuality.
Feeling desire. Feeling pleasure. Being touched. Hell, just getting a huge ol’ mondo stiffy. It was so life affirming.
He wanted to live again. He was ready.
“God, look at you smile.” Sean snorted. “So are you gonna give me the gory details? Are there, like, toys involved?”
Brent wiped his mouth. “Google it. ‘Lingam massage.’”
He wasn’t quite sure what devil made him say that, but Sean’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed his phone off the table. He typed it in.
“Not here, Einstein!” Brent protested with a laugh. He glanced around the diner, which was packed, like most places in Seattle.
“I’m just typing it into my notes for later! Give me some credit, bro. Do they have classes? Maybe I can get Sharon interested.”
“Probably. Seattle has classes for everything.” Though Brent seriously doubted taking a class could make anyone as good as River. It was real with him. Spiritual.
“So… it doesn’t bother you at all? That this tantric masseur is a guy?” Sean asked curiously, putting down his phone. “I’m not judging! Just wondering.”
“No. Anyway, River is really attractive.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Are you… you know… into that? Like, bi or something? I swear I’m not judging!”
Brent snorted. “I’m not bi, Sean.” Only once he’d said it, a little gremlin in Brent’s head perked up and looked at him doubtfully.
Am I bi?
“So I can keep trying to set you up with Annette? Or would you prefer Sharon’s gay cousin, Mario?” Sean smirked. He was a laugh riot.
Brent gave Sean a steely look.
But as Sean changed the subject, chatting about getting tickets to a Seahawks game, Brent’s mind churned.
He had questions.
He brought them up at his next session with Dr. Halloran. “How would I know if I’m bisexual?”
Halloran coughed and took a sip of tea. Hell, maybe he swallowed some spit the wrong way. But if he was surprised, his expression masked it well. “Well, primarily, if you’re sexually or romantically attracted to a man. You said you’d only been with Kathy since high school. Have you ever felt any interest in men?”
Brent blew out a breath. “I appreciate great clothes or a nice physique or haircut. I’ve always been a bit more fashion-conscious than some guys.”
Halloran nodded encouragingly.
“I know when a man is attractive. Hell, I employ over a hundred people. I have to be aware of the looks of the people I hire. It’s aesthetics. But it’s normal to be aware when a guy’s good-looking, right?”
Halloran smiled. “I’m not real fond of the word normal. Has there ever been a specific man that you considered fooling around with, even briefly?”
Brent thought about it. “We had a barista named Lonny. He was stunning. Latino with the best skin I’ve ever seen on a human being. Really striking eyes. Great body. And he was gay. He made it clear he would be up for something, if I was so inclined.” Brent shook his head and smiled fondly at the memory. “I thought about it, thought about what might happen if I let him trap me in the storage room in back. But it never went past the fantasy stage. I was happily married, and getting a blowjob in the back room isn’t exactly the way for a responsible boss to behave.”
Halloran pursed his lips thoughtfully. “So you fantasized about Lonny giving you a blowjob?”
Brent shrugged, feeling his face heat. “Any red-blooded male might. Don’t you think?”
“Possibly. Did you ever fantasize about any other acts with Lonny?”
“No.” Brent said, then realized it wasn’t precisely true. Some of those fantasies had started out with Lonny slamming him against the storeroom door and kissing him in a filthy way before sliding to his knees. “Well. Kissing.”
Halloran just nodded. “Any other instances? What about before you met Kathy, when you were in high school. Or even younger.”
“Uh… I had a cousin. He taught me how to masturbate when we were around eleven. We did it together a few times.”
That was normal kid stuff though. All boys did things like that.
Halloran rolled his chair back and locked his hands behind his head in a pensive pose. “Today’s
culture is more open, particularly here in Seattle. I’ve met quite a few older patients who find themselves interested in exploring options they didn’t even consider when they were coming of age. Personally, I think sexuality is a spectrum. Some people are hard-wired to only be attracted to the opposite sex. Others are capable of feeling attraction to a same-sex partner in the right circumstances, or with the right person.”
With the right person. That rang true to Brent. River was definitely unique.
It wasn’t just the massage. Sure, most guys could enjoy a penis massage no matter who was giving it. But the fact was, it had been River. And Brent had liked that it was River. He liked River’s hands, the feel of his body as he’d slid against him. Brent’s eyes had been closed through most of it. He could have imagined it was someone else touching him, but he hadn’t. He wanted it to be River. He’d pictured River the whole time.
“What brings the question up?” Halloran asked. “Is this related to your surrogacy sessions?”
Brent licked his lips. “Somewhat. River is a very attractive person. Anyone would think so. And I’m sure there’s bound to be a connection with the first person I… to someone who helped me past my mental block. Hell, he’s the only person I’ve been intimate with besides Kathy since I was eighteen years old.”
Halloran nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you like River, and that the surrogacy has helped. Just bear in mind that River is a professional therapist. If you think there’s any risk of becoming attached, I’ll move you to another surrogate.”
Brent felt a stab of panic. Move him? But they were making progress! “Oh, no. I’m not getting hung up on him. I just mean, a person should be attracted to their surrogate, right? Physically, I mean. It’s perfectly normal.”
Halloran raised one eyebrow and took a sip of his tea.
Chapter 6