Massage Therapy: Billy

I started from his feet, working my way up. My thumbs kneaded into the ball of his right foot, then down toward the heel. I moved to the ankle, then the top, even massaging each toe. 

His name was Billy, and he was in his late 50’s, a bit stocky, moderately hairy, thinning curly brown hair on his head. 

I moved to his left foot and gave it the same treatment, adding a little oil to my hands. 

This was my second visit with Billy, the first happening about a month earlier. Just a straight-forward massage is what he wanted. He had been a bit shy that first time, using a towel to cover his ample midsection and give his genitals some privacy. Nothing unusual there — about half my clients cover themselves. This time, though, Billy did not use the towel. He was laying face-down, both his back and buttocks lightly feathered with body hair. 

I moved up to his calf, oiling up the right one before rubbing it gently at first before adding some depth. He moaned. 

Billy had mentioned the small of his back had been bothering him, so I would need to spend a little extra time on that. 

I’m good at massage therapy, and charge for it. I’ve seen others go as low as $75 -- or even $50 an hour. I don’t do discounts. $250, no time limit. But it rarely surpasses two hours. 

I moved around the table, going from Billy’s left calf to the back of his left thigh. The oil matted the hair on his legs as I rubbed the inside. I let my hand venture from his knee up between his legs, and back down. 

I am in decent shape. I visit the gym a few times a week, but I’m not interested in bulking up. I don’t have washboard abs, but my belly is flat, and my chest has just enough definition to fill out my tight sleeveless shirt. I was also wearing gray sweatpants that were a size too small, adding a little to my bulge. My boxer briefs helped lift my package. 

The reason I mention this is sometimes the client is willing to pay a little more for me to wear a little less. Typically, I don’t go full nude, but strip to my briefs for an extra $100. $250 for the full monty is something few are willing to fork over . . . though there have been a couple of women who were up for that. 

I have no tattoos, shave most of my body hair (except my head) and I have a small patch of pubic hair just over my penis so I don't look like I'm in elementary school. Generally, touching me is not allowed, although there have been exceptions. 

I always interview the client to know what medical issues they may have, areas of their body that are tender or painful, and I tell them that I don’t touch genitals. But I do. It might be considered prostitution, so I say what I legally need to say, and then do whatever the clients wants. For a fee, of course. 

I always ask my female clients if their breasts are off limits or not. Usually, they’re okay with gentle, non-sexual touching. And sometimes it turns sexual. 

I need to be flexible with my schedule since some people are only available on Sunday nights or early Thursday morning. So, there are times I work seven days a week, and other periods where I don’t have a session for two weeks. 

“Would you like me to work on your glutes?” That’s a nice way of saying “Can I rub your butt?” 

“Yes,” Billy said. 

I always ask so there’s little or no confusion where the boundaries are. To some people, butts are sexual. For others, they're not. 

I start by gently rubbing in oil on each cheek, one at a time. His ass is meaty, and as I work with a little more intensity, I can sense him relaxing even more. My fingers slide down between his thighs, first the left, then the right. His large scrotum lay on the table, and my fingers brush it as I work the area between his thighs and buttocks. I even allow my fingers to rub gently over his anus for a few moments before moving on. I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like he moaned a little when my fingers slid over his hole. 

Soon, I’m working on the area between his ass and small of the back. I work on it somewhat lightly at first to make sure I’m not hurting him before I add more pressure. 

I’m taking my time since he’s the only client for the day. He has some gentle light jazz music playing in the background. 

His home is on a typical suburban street, with a red, late model pickup in the driveway. Last time I was there, he wanted to talk before we got down to business, said he wanted to get to know me before he let me touch his body. And you know what? I understood. So we sat at the dining room table, drinking bourbon. I could tell he was nervous. I understood that too, having a strange man in your house who will soon rub his naked body. 

He said he was married, had a daughter away at college. He ran a construction company and was pretty successful. I think he was being modest, but that’s okay. When we finished our drinks, he went to his bedroom while I went to what he called his game room and finished setting up my stuff. The room had old-time movie posters on the walls, along with a pool table, a wet bar and a big, big, big screen TV. There was plenty of room for my table. 

For the first visit, he came in wearing a big white towel that never left his waist. He managed to climb onto the table while keeping himself covered. This time he just walked in fully naked and got on the table. 

I spent a little extra time working on the small of his back, the sides, then moving to the middle, working along the spine. I spent several minutes massaging his shoulders, one at a time, moving around the end of the table as needed. I even rubbed the back of his neck and scalp -- but without the oil. 

“Okay, are you ready for the other side?” I asked as I went to the wet bar sink to wash my hands. Sure, they’ll only get oiled up again, but it felt good starting somewhat fresh. I dried my hands on a towel as Billy rolled onto his back. 

I would do the same thing as before, starting with the feet and working up. 

I grabbed the bottle of oil, and for the first time took in my client’s completely naked body. While he was somewhat stocky and flabby — a kind of cross between sort of overweight and fat — I was surprised to see Billy had a very big penis and equally super-sized balls. 

I made no comment, and averted my eyes so it didn’t seem like I was gawking. But it was very obvious Billy was quite excited as his penis appeared to be fully erect, pointing up his torso. It was long enough that the head covered his belly button. 

Over the next several minutes, I concentrated on his feet, then shins, then thighs. I worked each hip, careful not to touch his genitals. I moved up to his lower abdomen. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he said. 

I glanced at his face. He had his eyes closed. 

“Sure,” I said. 

“Would you be able to help me with my little problem there?” 

“You mean your erection?” 

“Yes.” 

The way I work is when a new client contacts me, I outline what I will and won’t do, and I am always clear that I don’t do anything sexually. That way I'm not considered a prostitute, even if I help with any "sexual issues" they may have. I send them an invoice that they have to pay by credit card before I even show up. If they want more that wasn't covered in that charge, I send them another bill after. I also do a background check to make sure they’re on the up-and- up and not some over-the-edge weirdo. 

“Cash,” he said. “How much?” 

I smile. “I’ll therapeutically massage your scrotum at no additional charge. Maybe that will help reduce the . . . the swelling you’re experiencing.” 

“I doubt it. How much for something to relieve the stiffness?” 

“Hands only?” 

“Sure.” 

“Two-fifty.” 

“How about three even? I only have hundreds, unless you can make change.” 

“Okay, three.” 

“And how much for something more than hands?” 

“I haven't done that,” I said. A little fib. 

“Would you consider it?” 

I put some oil in the palm of my hand and then placed it on his scrotum, rubbing gently. He had spent the time shaving his scrotum as it was smooth and hairless. 

“Let’s go a step at a time,” I said, and Billy moaned as my fingers rubbed his balls. "By the way," I added, "I'll be glad to take care of any shaving you may need in the future. I know how difficult that can be by yourself." 

His sack hung low and each nut seemed to be about the size of a golf ball, maybe a little bigger. There was a lot to work with. 

I watched his long, thick dick twitch and throb without any assistance from either of us. It bounced slightly with the beat of his heart. 

I wondered if my ball-rubbing would be enough to do the trick and release his pent-up fluids without me touching his dick. I’ve rubbed the balls of quite a few different men, and a couple of times, that alone is enough to trigger ejaculation. Sometimes, the client strokes his penis to climax without my assistance. 

Scrotum massage is actually therapeutic and doesn't have to be necessarily sexual . . . but it usually is. 

Billy kept a hands-off approach. 

I picked up the oil bottle and dripped a line of it up the underside of his shaft. His penis was very thick, and it almost looked muscular with the underside structure very well-defined. 

If I were to guess, I’d estimate Billy’s erect penis was 9 inches long, circumcised and I could see a drop of pre-ejaculation seminal fluid oozing out of the tip. 

I rubbed the oil into the skin of the shaft, and Billy immediately let out a loud moan. I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft and slid my hand up toward the head. I avoided actually touching the glans as I knew how sensitive it would be. After all, I don’t think he wanted to ejaculate within a few seconds of me touching him. I’m sure he wanted his $300 worth.

I kept to rubbing, sticking to his shaft, which was more than enough. I lifted his cock so it pointed straight up, and I decided it was, indeed, the largest penis I had ever seen in person. 

I stroked his shaft firmly and smoothly, from the base to almost the head. I used my other hand to continue rubbing his balls. 

Billy was moaning and his legs squirmed. 

I know he wanted me to orally finish him off, but I didn’t really want to have the taste of oil -- and semen — in my mouth if he were to unload. 

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh . . .” Billy said, and I knew he was close. 

“Are you ready?” I asked. 

He took a deep breath. “Are you?” he said as my hand slid up his penis, all the way to the thick head, rubbing oil over the knob. I was using both hands up and down the full length of his large cock. 

"Ready when you are," I said. 

And with that, he began to cum. 

The first burst surprised me as it shot straight up into the air, literally going higher than my head. I’m not sure where it landed as the second eruption occurred, just as high and powerful. I kept working his penis, up and down, up and down as stream after stream of semen spurted from his cock. I mentally counted eight, nine, ten full shots, followed by five or six more of lower velocity and volume. 

As the convulsions of his dick subsided, I saw semen seemingly everywhere — his chest, his belly, all over my hand gripping his cock, and even a couple of streams running down his ball sack. 

He was breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. Then he raised his head to look at me and smiled. His fingers found their way to my crotch, rubbing gently. 

“I’m okay,” I said as his fingers felt my bulge. 

“I’ve never touched a man before,” he said. “I would really like to.” He paused. "An extra hundred?" 

I didn’t say anything. 

A few moments later, those fingers were slipping into the waistband of my sweats. 

I grabbed a towel and began wiping the oil and semen off my hands as his hand felt me up. 

"Okay," I said. I pulled down my sweats a little and pulled my flaccid cock and my balls out over the waistband. 

He rubbed my sack. My balls are decent sized and hang nicely. 

“Ooohhh, smooth,” he said. 

"Just like yours," I said as he took the right nut between a thumb and finger. 

"I've never touched another man before," he said. 

I stood there, cock and balls hanging out of my pants while Billy gently rubbed them. I noticed his cock had started to go soft, but didn’t really get smaller. It just kind of relaxed to one side. 

I looked down, watching Billy’s hand slide over my penis, and I could feel it start to react. Soon, my cock was fully erect, and Billy wrapped his fingers around it and began jerking me off. I gently moved my hips back and forth in tandem with his stroking, like I was fucking his hand. 

I have a good control over my orgasms, and can last as long as I want, but decided Billy didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon jerking me. So I started moaning to warn him about what’s going to happen. 

He just kept smoothly stroking the length of my dick until it began to ejaculate, the first couple of squirts landing on Billy’s torso. The others popped out in diminishing succession. I have to say it was quite erotic to watch myself cum while another man held my dick. 

Fortunately, I brought enough towels. 

I declined Billy’s offer to use his shower to rinse off the massage oils and semen – I declined because it was mostly on him – but he paid me the "extra services" cash, and disappeared into his bedroom.

I tucked my cock and balls back into my pants before breaking down the table and packing my stuff.

Something told me Billy would be a regular client.