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Author: brian After a crazy month as an manager in an advertising agency, I was nearing my limit. Working 16 hour days, no lunch breaks, exceptional stress levels, and a super demanding client were all combining to make me an absolute mess.

At 36 years old, I was used to spending more time in the gym than my schedule had allowed me during this past month, and I felt that my muscles really needed to be woken up. Hours with a therapist I saw briefly a few years ago seemed to conclude that I was trying to fill some unspoken, subconscious void in my life with stupid amounts of work. I was definitely nearing my limits. I told my assistant not to disturb me for the next hour, and closed the door to my office.

I wasn't quite sure what I needed, I just knew that I needed something physical and relaxing for myself. In the past, I've always gone to women for massages at my chiropractor's office My attention was piqued when I saw an ad for a massage guy whose place seemed to be pretty close to my office. He seemed to meet all of my criteria: he noted that he worked on a massage table, which is mandatory for me.

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I once had a massage from a masseuse who worked on a sloppy futon bed, and I swore never to do that again - I think I left more tense that time than when I walked in. This guy interestingly noted that he was a model, which seemed a little weird to me, considering that it was posted under the therapeutic massage. Like I said, I've never had a massage from a male before, and actually hadn't had any m2m contact except for some circle jerks back in high school.

I continued to scan some otherand tried to contact the strong-looking Hungarian female massage therapist whose hands looked like meat hooks. When I noticed a response in my inbox from Jay, I was surprised when I felt a small smile creep across my face.

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Turns out that he was available to see me within the hour, as another client had reportedly cancelled. We exchanged a few quick e-mails, confirming his apartment and a few oooking details.

He asked about massage experience, injuries, age, and general health profile. My assistant was startled when I told her I was leaving for the rest of the day, and it was only 4 pm It was with a weird mixture of excitement and apprehension that I buzzed up to his apartment. Jay met me at his apartment door with a huge grin and an amazing handshake.

Easy to see why this guy could model.

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He was stunning. I would say he was in his mids. He led me into bac massage room, which was an incredibly warm and sun filled atrium at the front of his apartment, overlooking the lake.

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He asked me again if I had any health concerns that he should be aware of, and then gave me a glass of cool water to sip on. He seemed completely relaxed and comfortable with himself, and there was no sexual energy in the room from him. I, on the other hand, found him incredibly attractive and wondered how I would be able to keep myself under control while under his hands. etr8

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I never knew quite how to respond to those kinds of comments. Anyway, Jay closed the blinds in the massage room and told me to undress to my comfort level, pointing to a hanger on the back of the door for my bak. He told me to lie face down on the table when undressed, and then he went out, softly closing the door looming him as he went.

Damn, how the hell was I going to manage not reacting as he worked my body? Now my hard cock would be flapping in the wind if I did pop wood. Was it just me or was it getting warmer in here? I quickly jumped out of my suit, and plopped myself down on the table, stomach down, as he had instructed. A few minutes later, Jay knocked on the door and came back into the room. I kept reminding myself that I was emssage for relaxation, and not to keep obsessing about this very hot young man kneading my muscles.

He told me that he had been training locally for massage therapy, but started travelling with modelling contracts bxck, so had quit school.

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He was now back in Toronto after 2 years of crazy travel, and wanted to get back into massage school to finish his last year. He said that his girlfriend was the one who had encouraged him to start advertising on-line, so in deed, Jay was a straight boy. I just contented myself with the thought that I was about to get a good, well-deserved massage. He turned off the overhead lights, lit what must have been a mmessage pillared candles, set up his I-Pod to what turned out to be a great chilled jazz set, and got to work.

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He placed both hands on my middle back, took 3 or 4 deep breaths in, and then instructed me to follow his breathing pattern. I already started to feel less tense, and made a conscious decision to just let myself go and not think about anything for the next 90 mins. Who cared if my bubble butt was in view for all to see? He started on my lower back, working with deep, flowing movements up into my middle back. He worked the left side, then crossed to the other side of the table and did the same on the left side.

His work was very fluid and deep, and he would slow to give extra attention to particularly tight muscles around my shoulder blades. He did great work on my hands too, which no other massage therapist had done before.

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What was going on here? In his deep yet mellow voice, he asked me if I was doing ok so far. I was totally content. He moved from my upper torso and, after oiling his hands again, moved to my legs. I was pleased when he started at my left footmoving up my calf, and then onto the hamstring.


His touch was never tentative or nervous; he approached each muscle group with determination. It felt so good, and I knew I was going to get hard in a second.

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One second later, I felt the blood surge into my flaccid dick that was pointing south between my legs. He took his hands off my legs, took a gulp of water from his water bottle, and then brought lokoing hands down onto my ass cheeks with renewed vigour.

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This straight guy was kneading my buttocks like they were mounds of dough he was very angry with. Did I even want to stop baco

As if reading my thoughts, Jay abruptly stopped his work on my ass. I actually heard myself exhale a huge sigh, as I has been apparently holding my breath. My heart skipped a beat. How in the hell was I supposed to roll over and have this straight but see my hard-on. I delayed a few seconds by pretending to stretch my arms, while thinking of old ladies in cold showers, but that erection was NOT going down. Damn, this was awkward. It was just then that I realized I was leaking pre-cum.

This could NOT get more embarrassing. I could feel its cool wetness slide down my shaft and start to puddle in what remains of my trimmed pubes. Jay finished the pecs, and moved on to my abdomen, which by this time, was heaving with excitement and fear.

But again, he just kept on massaging me, seemingly oblivious to my state of near-explosion.

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