Recap: When I first booked Derek (Alias: Brady) through the massage app, it was supposed to be just a standard sports massage…his profile photo showed a cocky, broad-shouldered jock with “magic hands” according to the reviews. But lying there under his touch, the session turned into something else entirely. Every press of his strong palms, every glide of oil over my skin had me half-hard before I even realized it, and when his forearms brushed too close to the towel tenting over my cock, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for his cock. Instead of pulling away, Derek leaned in, smirking, telling me I could grab more if I wanted. By the time his bulge was pressing against my hand and his voice had dropped to that low, steady tone, it was obvious this appointment was never just about a massage. When he left, all casual swagger, he told me to text him directly next time and I did, booking another appointment for 6 p.m. the very next day.
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I waited all day like a nervous little kid waiting for candy. Couldn’t focus, couldn’t sit still. Every hour felt like it dragged its feet, and by the time the clock inched past five, my chest was already buzzing. I even shaved my hole, took a long hot shower, scrubbed until my skin was pink. Just in case anything happened.
At 5:57 pm, the doorbell rang.
I pulled the door open, and there he was; Derek, grinning, duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, wearing a black tank top that clung to him like it was afraid to let go. The deep side cutouts forced my eyes down his torso, where his abs flexed and tightened every time he shifted. A trap. He knew exactly what he was doing.
We did the usual bro handshake, quick grip, little pull in. His palm was warm. Mine was probably clammy, but I played it cool.
Inside, the table was already ready. I didn’t waste time, I stripped right down, underwear gone, skin bare. Derek bent to set up his oils and lotions, giving me the perfect view of his veiny arms stretching. I sat up on the table, naked, already feeling my chest tight with nerves.
“So… maybe today you should work on my back,” I said, trying to sound casual. “My lower back, thighs, glutes. Been tense.”
“Yeah, of course, man.” His smile was easy, like nothing about this situation was strange. “Yesterday we didn’t get to it. I’ll make sure I hit all the right spots.”
I adjusted onto the table and laid down on my stomach. Face resting at the edge, ass fully exposed, shameless. Yesterday I’d been shy. Today, no way. My ass was my best feature, I knew it, and I wasn’t about to hide it. If I was lucky, Derek’s cock...which I already knew twitched in his shorts yesterday would twitch again. And this time, it’d be right by my mouth.
Derek moved around the table, poured oil into his hands, and started on my lower back. His palms spread the oily warmth across my skin, kneading deep, pushing his thumbs into every knot. I moaned without meaning to, the sound muffled against the table pad.
“Yeah,” he murmured under his breath. “You’re real tight.”
I decided to push it further, shameless. “Well, actually I am quite tight down there,” I whispered back, shifting my hips just enough to make it obvious what I meant.
His hands slid lower, over my hips. “Yeah, right here?” he asked as his palms spread wide across my ass. He started kneading, pressing, stretching, squeezing handfuls of me like he was testing how much I could take. My breathing grew heavier with every slow squeeze.
“Mmm,” I moaned, my body responding to the way Derek’s veiny, masculine hands worked me open, as if he was preparing me for more. Each time his fingers dug deeper into my flesh, a sound escaped me; a low moan, a soft hum, a needy “ah.. Fuck yes” that slipped past my lips before I could swallow it back.
He didn’t hesitate. It felt like he was in tune with me, reading every twitch of my muscles, every sound I made, every little signal my body betrayed.
When he shifted, I felt his weight move closer to my head. He circled around the table, his hands never leaving my body. I tilted my eyes sideways and caught sight of him. His bulge in those shorts. Hanging heavy and inches from my face.
I swallowed, my lips dry. My cock was hard against the table now, grinding into the sheet with every tiny move of my hips.
I shifted, inching my body just a little closer to the edge... closer to his bulge. He paused, only for a second, then kept working his thumbs into my shoulders.
“Just making sure my body doesn’t get stiff from staying in one position,” I said, my voice low, almost a whisper.
He chuckled, short, quiet, like he knew exactly what I was doing. His bulge hung there, a breath away. My eyes stayed locked on it, heat curling in my stomach as his hands pressed deeper into my ass, like this was all still just therapy.
“Uhm, Dan…” his voice broke the low hum of the diffuser.
“Yeah, Brady?”, I replied.
“You don’t mind if I took my shorts off? Do you?” His hands lifted away from my ass, heat leaving my skin where he’d been pressing. “The oil and atmosphere… it’s making it pretty hot in here man. And we can’t switch on the fan because of the aroma diffuser and the candle burning.”
I smirked into the padded face rest. “Yeah yeah of-course, man. Make yourself comfortable.”
When I tilted my head just slightly, I caught the edge of him moving in my periphery. His tank top came off in one smooth pull, tossed somewhere behind him. The fabric snapped softly, the kind of sound that made my chest tighten. Bare skin now, bronzed and cut, shoulders widening into a chest that glistened faintly with sweat from the warmth of the room.
Then the sound of elastic stretching. The soft tug of his shorts sliding down his thighs. My pulse spiked.
When I dared to glance, I saw white cotton, tight, hugging him in a way that felt unfair. Andrew Christian stitched bold across his waistband, the kind of underwear you didn’t wear unless you knew people would see it. The trunks clung to him, soft fabric stretched around the curve of his ass, the thick outline of his cock framed against the material like a secret he wanted me to notice.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.
Derek stepped back toward me, his thighs brushing the frame of the table as he moved into position. From where my head rested, his massive muscled quads were right there, strong and lightly dusted with hair. The waistband of his trunks rode low enough that the elastic seemed to tease me. His scent carried too; clean soap layered with the musk of heat and body.
He leaned over, his hands pressing back onto my oiled lower back. His fingers dug slow and deep, working the tension in my spine, his knuckles grazing the tops of my ass cheeks with every knead.
“Feeling Good?” he murmured, his voice low, close.
“Yeah…fucking amazing” My voice came out rougher than I intended.
My eyes couldn’t help but drift downward. His bulge hovered just inches from my lips, thick and heavy against the fabric. Every little shift of his stance made it twitch, adjust, strain for space. I caught the subtle lift, the weight of blood filling him, and it sent a pulse straight to my own cock, grinding against the table beneath me.
“Looks… fucking amazing,” I muttered, eyes locked right on his bit fat bulge.
He laughed, sharp and knowing. “Uh. What?”
I froze, stumbling out, “Ah—I mean… the massage feels amazing.” The correction tumbled out too quickly, but I knew that laugh. It wasn’t the heat in the room making him chuckle. It was him, enjoying the way I stared, feeding me that irresistible jock charm, showing off what I already craved.
“Great, man,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just caught me drooling over his cock.
Derek's palms slid lower, strong and deliberate, working into my glutes. The oil on his hands glided over me in slow waves, pushing the flesh of my ass apart with each motion. His thumbs pressed deeper at the base of my cheeks, dangerously close to where I had shaved smooth just hours ago, waiting, ready. I wanted him to notice. I wanted him to know I was already open for him, already aching for more.
He leaned forward, stretching his long arms to dig into my thighs, his fingers gripping and kneading like he owned every inch of me. His touch grew firmer as he slid down to my calves, squeezing them hard, working me like I was nothing but muscle and tension beneath his hands. Derek shifted slightly, but in doing so his bulge pressed right in front of my face.
“Is this okay?”, Derek asked.
“Yeah, more than okay”, I replied.
His bulge was right there. Heavy and Thick. Straining the white Andrew Christian trunks until the fabric couldn’t hide a thing. My mouth watered.
“Can I lick it?”, I asked him.
“Go on, don’t be shy”, he replied.
I tilted my face, lips brushing the outline. Just a ghost of contact. Then I opened my mouth and dragged it along his bulge, the cotton stretching against my tongue.
“Mmhhmmm…” I moaned around the shape of his cock, sucking at the clothed bulge like I couldn’t stop myself. His cock twitched under the fabric, throbbing against my lips.
Derek’s hands froze on my calves, then slowly pulled away. For a second I thought I had crossed a line. But then—
Smack. His palm cracked across my ass, the sting blooming hot. Then the other hand joined in, spanking me harder, both palms gripping, squeezing, kneading my cheeks like he’d been waiting his whole life to get his hands on me.
“Been waiting for you to do that since yesterday,” he muttered, voice rough, low, dripping with hunger.
I moaned louder, slobber coating his bulge as I sucked and nuzzled into him like a man starved. My spit soaked through, darkening the white cotton, leaving his trunks clinging wet to his cock. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Can I take these off?”, I asked him.
“Yeah yeah, go for it”, Derek replied.
My hands slid up, fingers curling under the waistband. I tugged.
The underwear peeled down slow, catching on his thick length before springing free.
Eight solid inches. Thick, veiny, cut, flushed dark with blood. The crown gleamed already, a bead of precum gathering at the tip.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered, eyes locked on it.
Brady just smirked, one hand gripping the back of my head as I leaned in, lips parting. I wrapped my mouth around the tip, tasting salt, precum dripping on my tongue. My lips slid lower, jaw stretching wide as inch after inch disappeared into my throat.
“Goddamn Dan,” he groaned, his hips giving the slightest thrust. His cock throbbed against my tongue, deeper now, filling me.
I gagged, saliva spilling out over my lips, dripping onto my chest. My hands braced his thighs as I bobbed, faster, wetter.
Smack. Another sharp spank across my ass. His other hand drifted down, fingers sliding oily from earlier, circling the smooth rim of my hole. He pressed lightly, teasing.
“Ahh, so fucking smooth, man,” he rasped, rolling his finger just against the edge, not pushing in yet, just enough to make me moan around his cock.
I drooled, spit bubbling at my lips as I gagged again, nose pressed to his trimmed hair, his cock thick down my throat. The sloppy gawk-gawk noises filled the room, obscene and loud over the candle crackle.
He pulled back suddenly, his cock leaving my lips wet and red, a strand of spit connecting us.
“Get on your back.”
I did, rolling over the massage table. He grabbed my shoulders and dragged me towards him...until my head hung off the edge, throat stretched open by gravity. His cock hovered above my face, swollen, veins ridged along the shaft.
Then he shoved his 8-inch dick inside my throat. I gasped but it turned into a gag as he slid deep, his cock fucking straight into my throat. His hands clamped my head, holding me in place, guiding every brutal thrust. My vision blurred, spit pouring down my cheeks, my throat working to take him again and again.
“Yeah man, take it,” he grunted, hips pistoning. “Fuck, you’re a throat slut.”
He pulled out only to slam back in, his balls slapping against my forehead. I gagged, drooled, moaned all at once, the table rocking under me. His cock used me, pounded and owned my face completely.
He yanked his cock free with a wet pop, my spit stringing from his tip to my lips. I barely had time to breathe before he leaned down, crouching over me. His mouth found mine, messy and urgent as he kissed me. Fuck. His lips were softer than I expected, but his tongue was rough, needy, tasting himself off my tongue. I moaned straight into him, my hands clutching his forearms as he kissed me like I was already his.
Then he pulled back, eyes dark, smirk curling on his face. “Fuck those lips take my cock so good,” he muttered.
Before I could answer, he stood again, shoved his cock between my lips, and pressed forward until his entire crotch mashed against my face. My nose buried in his crotch, his shaft forced deep down my throat. I gagged, chest heaving, but he held me there, his hips grinding forward like he wanted to fuse us together.
Both his hands dropped low, gripping my cock. I gasped around him as his rough palm wrapped me, stroking me in rhythm with the thrusts into my throat. Each pump dragged my moans down into a wet vibration against his length, his cock twitching inside my mouth every time I choked.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he growled, pounding harder. “Choke on my dick while I make you cum.”
He leaned even closer, body heat smothering me, until I was pinned under him, mouth stretched, throat ruined, cock throbbing in his grip. His strokes turned slick with my own pre-cum, his pace mean and unrelenting, using me like I was built for nothing but this.
My vision blurred, spit and tears streaming down my face, but all I could think about was how fucking good it felt to have him everywhere at once.
My high school crush fucking my throat and jerking me off at the same time...dream come true.
The mere thought of it, the sight of his abs flexing above me, his body in my point of view, those muscled arms stroking my cock while his hips drove his cock deeper down my throat...I lost it.
I groaned, my whole body jerking as I shot a deep load right into his palms, thick ropes spilling over his strong fingers. The pressure, the angle, the heat, it ripped the orgasm out of me.
And immediately after, Derek’s hips twitched. He slammed one last hard thrust into my mouth, burying his cock so deep I could barely breathe, and then it hit.
“Fuck—fuck, fuck—” he growled, his voice breaking into moans. His abs clenched, his whole body shaking above me as his cock throbbed and unleashed thick, hot spurts straight down my throat. I gagged but swallowed, gulping him down, milking every drop as his strong hands held my head in place. His hips pressed harder, grinding against my nose as he emptied his load inside me.
I swallowed it all, every heavy pulse of him. His body trembled, sweat dripping onto my face as he finally leaned back, pulling his cock from my lips with a wet pop.
But he wasn’t done. He tapped the slick, cum-coated tip against my lips, smearing the taste of him across my mouth. Then he brought his other hand up; his fingers sticky with my own cum and pushed them past my lips.
“Open, slut,” he muttered.
I moaned into them, “Mhhmm,” sucking hungrily, tasting myself off his thick fingers, mixing my cum with his in a filthy cocktail dripping down my throat.
His eyes stayed locked on mine, wild, dominant, fucked-out. “Yeah. This is what happy ending massages are all about.”
My whole body buzzed, my throat sore, chest heaving, lips dripping with spit and cum as I sucked his fingers clean like it was the only thing I’d ever wanted.
Derek finally pulled away, still chuckling, and grabbed a towel from the counter. He wiped his chest and abs down first, then tossed it toward me with a grin. “Here, clean yourself up before you drown in my sweat.”
I caught it, still catching my breath, still tasting him. “Thanks… for the massage,” I said, voice rough, trying to sound casual.
He bent to pull on his shorts, tugging them up over his hips, sweat still shining across his body. As he walked to the door, hand on the knob, he glanced back at me. “So, Daniel…” His tone lingered on my name like it meant something more. “…I’m assuming you’d like another massage appointment.”
I froze. My stomach flipped. “…Wait. Derek… you know who I am?”
His hand dropped from the knob. He turned, eyes wide, then breaking into laughter. “Hold up. You know who I am too?”
I sat up, towel clutched to me, still stunned. “Of course I do. Just because you used a different name for the booking, you think I wouldn’t recognize the guy I used to watch shower everyday in the gym?"
He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Man. And you think I could forget? All those hours of you pretending to help me with math, while you were really just trying not to stare at my cock riding up my shorts?” He smirked, leaning on the doorframe. “And don’t even get me started on what happened during that tutoring session…”
“Fuck,” I groaned, laughing despite myself. “I could never forget that time.”
His smirk deepened, eyes dragging over me one more time. “But I think today?” His voice dropped. “Yeah, today was a hell of a lot hotter.”
I laughed, still catching my breath. “Thanks, man… I’d been wanting to suck that cock for years now. What is it… twelve years? Fuck.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Still tastes the same, eh?”
I licked my lips slowly, exaggerated, making him watch. “Fucking better.”
His laugh was low, throaty. “Always a slut for me. See you soon then?”
“Yes, please. I’ll book another appointment later this weekend.”
“Can’t wait, man.”
He still had that cocky jock grin plastered across his face as he headed for the door.
I sat there, clutching the towel, still sticky, still hard, staring at the empty doorway like I’d just stepped into another reality. Fuck, it was out in the open now. No more fake names. No more guessing. We both knew.
The taste of him still coated my tongue, bitter and sweet, the kind of taste you don’t forget even after years. I’d finally sucked my crush’s cock after so long. Derek. The jock. The guy every chick wanted to spread for. And he’d let me, used my throat until I couldn’t breathe.
This wasn’t just any guy. It was Derek. The same Derek I used to watch at the gym showers, muscles dripping, towel hanging too low. The same Derek I’d jerked off to more times than I’d ever admit. And now? Now he was walking out of my apartment, but promising to come back. Promising more.
Fuck. I couldn’t wait for the weekend. Couldn’t wait for him to come back. Couldn’t wait for him to cum in my hole.
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