“Ugh…”
Logan let out the quietest of moans and, only now, dared open his eyes to look—he was as hard as a squash, no doubt, with the masseur’s greasy knuckles firmly around that sensitive sweet spot where head met shaft.
“I’m… I’m ready to cum…” Logan stammered, staring up at the masseur—some very tan, and very fit, older Asian dude—somewhat pleadingly.
The man, in turn, merely nodded at Logan with the most placid of smiles, and then amped up the strokes, his rhythm steady but purposeful, so that five or six pumps were all it took—
“Aw!”
Just as Logan felt the pressure breach inside him, the masseur’s grip slipped down, to around the base of the shaft, and as if in slo-mo, Logan watched the first globule of his creamy-white, backed-up teenaged load ooze out of his piss slit and just cling there…
“No, don’t stop! Don’t… Aw…”
But it was too late, for the boy had already lost momentum, even though he was far from satisfied…
“Relax,” the masseur reassured his young client in clipped, accented English, “Not so fast…”
“How… how much time do I have left?” Logan asked, sheepishly, just realizing he had jumped the gun.
The masseur scooped up the leakage from Logan’s cockhead, wiped his hand clean with a towel, and glanced at his watch: “Around fifteen minutes…”
“Ok…” Logan mumbled, not knowing what to make of the information, but—
“You can cum again, right?” The masseur’s smile broadened, the crow’s feet behind his wire glasses deepening. “A young guy like you…”
The man trailed off, and Logan clocked him surveying his naked body with a newfound interest—a thirst, even.
“Maybe…” Logan’s cheeks suddenly grew hot, as he sensed a creepy vibe shift, and just as he was about to tell himself he was being oversensitive, the masseur’s hands were all over him again.
“So nice…” The man near-whispered as his touch roamed Logan’s pecs and abs, which had already been oiled up during the massage, and thus, every nook and cranny of the young buck’s impressive physique was glowing with a tantalizing sheen…
“Oh, thanks…” Logan gulped, but his mouth had run dry.
“You do sports?” The masseur asked.
“Um, yeah…” In fact, Logan was one of the best track-and-field athletes of his school—in the world, even, considering that he just won the bronze medal in the decathlon at the U20 World Championships in his home state of Oregon this year. He had also scored a full athletics scholarship to Stanford, going there this fall… but he decided the man in some dingy massage parlor did not need to know all this.
“I can tell…” Nonetheless, the masseur seemed very pleased with Logan’s answer, and now his hands were again around the boy’s cock, which had not gone limp one bit since Logan blew that baby load which didn’t even count a few minutes ago. “Such a nice cock, too…”
Because of the man’s accent, the word “cock” came out more harshly than it should, and if Logan weren’t blushing before, he definitely was now.
“Thanks, man…” Logan replied lamely. How much time was left now—thirteen minutes? If the man were to make him cum again, he’d better get to it…
But then the masseur abruptly stopped in his tracks, as if just remembering something, and turned to ask Logan in all seriousness, “How old are you?”
Once more, Logan tried to swallow the nonexistent saliva in his mouth, hesitated at telling the truth, but eventually decided to come clean: “I… I just turned eighteen.”
“Really?” The masseur’s expression bloomed into delighted surprise. “Wow… eighteen years old… already such a big cock…”
Logan wasn’t sure why, but the way the older man spoke about his young body and young cock was beginning to turn him on.
“Yeah?” Logan could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. The man had both hands on his cock, because it was that big, at least seven and a half inches, and Logan started to thrust his hips to help things along.
“You like playing with my cock?”
The man nodded with an earnestness that startled the boy.
The next thing that came out of Logan’s mouth didn’t sound like him at all—his coach and his friends would be scandalized if they heard him—but it was in fact something Logan had always wanted to say to someone.
“You like white cock?”
The question, which sounded so simple, hung between the two guys like a fog, before the masseur gave a tiny, shocked raise of the eyebrow, and his previously cordial smile twisted into a smirk.
“Oh, if you talk nasty like that you’ll get in trouble…”
“What kind of trouble?” Logan didn’t miss a beat, and felt quite proud of himself for that.
The masseur alternated his gaze between Logan and his cock, and before Logan knew it, the older man’s mouth was sliding up and down his full length—
“Whoa!” The sensation made Logan curl his toes.
The masseur didn’t stop to ask if it was ok, but simply glared up at Logan as he slurped his meat to see if the boy was going to stop him… And of course Logan wasn’t going to stop him—he’d only gotten his dick sucked once at his tender age, by this Korean boy in his American History class whom he wasn’t friends with and avoided like a plague after their secret encounter.
But this was way different, whereas his classmate had been tentative and clumsy and all teeth, this guy was a pro: no teeth whatsoever, just all lips and tongue and slick spit, and the noise that he was making… Jesus…
“You’re… you’re gonna get me close…”
The Korean boy from American History did not manage to get Logan off—he’d had to finish the job himself. However, it looked as though Logan were going to get to cum in someone’s mouth that day for the very first time, and the prospect excited the teenager to no end… except, as good as the masseur was at sucking dick, he was equally good at being a downright goddamn tease—
“Oh, I’m not done with you, boy…” The man pulled off just as Logan was teetering on the edge, and proclaimed with teary eyes and a sniffle.
“Please, I wanna cum in your mouth…” Logan was getting low-key annoyed, and didn’t know what else to do but beg.
“Are you a virgin?”
“What?”
Logan heard the man alright, but just didn’t grasp the relevance.
“Have you ever been with a guy?”
“Yeah…”
“So you’re gay?” The man wouldn’t let up.
“I mean…” This was an interrogation trap, as Logan was nursing a raging boner, no less, and he started giving information away almost despite himself: “I’ve had a girlfriend, but…”
“So you’re bi?” The man finished the sentence for Logan.
“I guess…”
Logan had never admitted that out loud, but it felt somewhat liberating to hear himself say it, even if it was to a stranger in a seedy walk-up building across the ocean from home.
“What have you done with a guy?” The line of questioning thus continued.
“Um, I mean… We made out… He sucked my dick, but that was about it…” Thinking back on it now, Logan felt low-key bad for blanking the Korean boy afterwards… It wasn’t nice of him, was it?
“So you’ve never fucked a guy?”
“Well, I’ve never… I’ve never fucked anyone…”
There, that was the last of Logan’s confessions… and the man could do whatever he wanted with the intel…
“Do you want to?” That was the masseur’s response, that crooked smirk back on his face.
Logan looked away, but nodded.
“Here, sit up…” The masseur took Logan by the hand to help him up, his voice suddenly tender and paternal after learning of the boy’s inexperience.
Logan supposed he had an idea of where things were headed, but still got a frisson of perverse thrill when the masseur dropped the sweatpants he’d been wearing throughout the session, and revealed no underwear beneath, just two compact, unblemished glutes that were a shade or two lighter than the rest of him.
“Nice…” Logan mumbled, mesmerized.
“Here, feel it…” The masseur reached back, and guided the youngster’s hand between the crack. “You feel it?”
“Oh, yeah…”
It was damp, and warm—so warm. There were wisps of hair around something that came alive to Logan’s touch, tight as a drum but soft at the same time…
“You wanna get a better look?” The masseur twisted his neck halfway back to catch Logan’s eyes, and just like he did too many times that day already, Logan nodded, his mouth agape.
In a fluid move, the masseur bent down and grabbed his ankles, so as to present himself to his rapt audience of one: a ring of jet-black hair guarding a dark pucker, but when it winked, Logan caught a glimpse of the most enticing pink that disappeared again almost immediately.
“Fuck…” The boy gasped, as if entranced.
Tentatively, Logan spread the older man’s muscular ass cheeks and brought his face closer—there, the pink, he could see it clearly now, and a whiff of the faintest musk as well. It was a beautiful sphincter, without much wear and tear at all, and it was right in front of Logan, so close that he could taste it—
“Oh, yes!” The masseur moaned when Logan’s tongue tip touched his hole.
“Is this ok?” Logan asked.
“Oh boy, you have no idea…”
Logan took that as a yes and dove back in: this was also a first for the boy. In fact, he’d always fantasized about doing it, because he saw it in porn so often, but had wondered about the cleanliness of it all… As it turned out, though, there was nothing of the sort to worry about, for apart from a subtle, salty tang, the man’s hole was all velvety smoothness as far as Logan could taste.
“Try putting a finger in there…”
Logan couldn’t see the man’s face for he remained bent over, but he heard him, and did as he was instructed—
“Ugh…”
Both of them groaned in unison as Logan’s index finger slid right past the snug ring of flesh.
“So tight, man…” Logan muttered under his breath, and if it felt this good around his finger, he could only imagine what it would do to his swollen hog of a cock…
“You ready to fuck me now?” Logan still could not see the man’s face.
“I… I need a condom, though.”
The masseur straightened himself up to rifle through a nearby drawer and handed Logan what he asked for.
“How do you want me?” The man asked.
“Um, I don’t know…” Holding the unopened condom with an upturned erection, Logan really felt his inexperience showing.
“Here, let’s try this…” The masseur climbed up onto his table, and held himself up by the calves, completely opened up for Logan’s taking.
“Whoa, you’re so flexible…”
“Come on, now…” The man urged.
With trembling hands, the teen ripped open the condom packet and tried once to slip the thing on, only to hear—
“Other side.”
“Oh…” Embarrassed, Logan flipped the furled latex over and tried once more to slide it on.
“Ugh… I think… it’s too small…” Frustration quickly snuck up on the boy.
“It’s ok… you can fuck me raw…”
“Um…” Logan might be young, but he knew better than that. They’d all talked about it in sex ed, and he and his track teammates had giggled when the word “anal” came out of their teacher’s mouth…
“I’m on PrEP. You know what that is?”
“I think I’ve heard about it.”
“Well, then trust me… It’s ok.”
Logan hesitated—did he trust the man? He was a stranger, in a strange country, after all, but he just told the man things he’d never told anyone. Plus, the man would be absolutely insane to lie about something like being on PrEP…
Logan took a deep breath: “Ok then…”
“And put that thing down…” He meant the condom. “It’s not made for your WBC…”
Logan paused: “I think it’s… BWC.”
“No,” the masseur demurred, still holding up his legs, waiting. “White boy cock…”
“Oh…”
That put a grin on Logan’s face.
He grabbed the canister of oil that the masseur had used to massage him moments before, and drizzled a generous amount all over his circumcised American ham hock.
“You ready?” Logan asked the man. But of course he was ready… Logan was just saying that to psych himself up… That was it, then… His first fuck… He took aim and pushed.
“Oh fuck…” Logan groaned as he watched his cockhead muscle its way in, as well as the masseur’s face scrunch up.
“Wait!”
Unpracticed, the sensation was almost too much for the young gun, and he had to pull out.
“Oh, don’t tease me, boy…”
“I’m not, I swear…”
Logan tried again, this time managing to get himself halfway in.
“I… I think I might cum…” Logan didn’t think he had ever felt so embarrassed in his life… What was that? Like, three seconds?
“No, no, no…” The masseur shook his head fervently. “Just take a deep breath. I want you to fuck me.”
Logan did as he was told, and felt sweat dripping from his armpits. Slowly he resumed his push forward, biting the tip of his tongue to distract himself with the pain, and eventually succeeded in burying himself to the hilt, and just held there, really feeling the walls of his first bottom’s interior closing in around his boyhood… It was an exquisite feeling… Now he understood what the fuss with ass-fucking—raw, no less—was about.
“Oh, I swear if you move the slightest bit I’mma cum inside you…”
“No, you won’t… Don’t tell yourself that…” The masseur was coaching Logan through it. “Just pull out a little bit and push it back in…”
“Ok…” With bated breath, Logan withdrew himself partway, and saw that the man had left a snail trail of white gruel right along that fat vein running down Logan’s shaft.
“Damn, you’re creaming my cock…” Logan was gobsmacked.
“That meant your cock feels good inside me… C’mon, see if you can pound me. I want it.”
Logan wanted to pound the man, too, trust and believe, but the whole situation was just too much for the boy to handle—
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can hold it…”
“You can’t?”
“Yeah, sorry, I just… I just really wanna shoot…”
At this, the masseur studied Logan’s face and his scowl softened into something fatherly: “If that’s the case, then… just let it go…”
“Can I cum inside you?”
“You know you can, boy, fill me up…”
“Alright…”
That was when Logan’s gaze landed on the full-length mirror across the room—in it, his soon-to-be college jock body was white and smooth like marble, glistening with an oily halo that accentuated every line… There he was, a paragon of athletic boyhood on the cusp of manhood, pile-driving into an older, darker male body of completely different stock…
“Oh shit…”
Looking himself right in the eye through the mirror, Logan gave two short, quick thrusts and felt his defenses crashing down.
“Oh yeah, breed me!”
Even though the masseur wasn’t technically doing anything, his constrictive body heat alone was enough to milk volley after volley of spunk out of the young boy.
“Ugh, I’m still cumming!”
That was after what must’ve been the fifth squirt, and Logan was still going, his knees going weak and he had to hold on to the edge of the massage table for support. The poor man that Logan was plugged into must be flooded with young spunk by now…
“Oh jeez…”
After about three more convulsions, it was over, and Logan had never felt so light in his life… not even after that bronze medal at World U20… He started pulling his flagging dick out of the masseur, but as careful as he was, with his cockhead removed as a stopper, his evidently copious teenaged load came rushing out of the masseur’s stretched hole, dripping everywhere…
“Fuck, so much cum…” Logan felt himself blushing again.
“Good job…” Still holding himself up by the back of his knees, the masseur nodded approvingly…
When Logan reemerged from the massage place, the sun was beating down. He checked his phone, and saw that his mom had texted him twice.
“Where are you?”
“Can you text me so that we don’t worry?”
Shit…
“Hey, I just saw. Where are you guys?”
They met at some fancy Chinese restaurant for one final dinner before flying home to the States the next day.
“How was your day?” Logan’s mom asked over char siu, which they’d had so much of since arriving in Hong Kong, and Logan didn’t get the fuss—it was just pork to him.
“It was good.” Logan replied curtly.
“Well, what did you do?”
“I got a…” He decided to tell a half-truth, “massage…”
“Did you get a happy ending?” That was his thirteen-year-old brother, piping up, not missing a beat.
“Matty!” Their dad now looked up from his phone. “How do you even know about this stuff?”
“Um, no…” Logan answered anyway. “It was a… man.”
“You can still get a happy ending from a man,” Matty pressed on. Kids these days…
“Ok, boys…” Their mom interjected. “Let’s not talk about this stuff over dinner… or ever, actually…”
Logan couldn’t agree more… but what he didn’t know back then, was that from time to time, even in his twenties, and thirties, even after he went on eventually to become World Champion of the decathlon, and retired as a pro athlete, he would think back on this fateful trip in the summer before college, on the very tan, and very fit older Asian masseur in the shady walk-up off the streets of Hong Kong… He would wonder where the man was time and again, and would hope he was doing ok.
