Noah’s Story
I knew Taylor was tricking again under the guise of “massage therapy.” I loved the guy so much it made my heart hurt, but I knew he needed more than I could give him. On the outside, Taylor had his shit together; smart, successful, fun, and hot as hell. On the inside, he was a hot mess! He was just a young kid, and just few feet away from the horrific site of his own father bludgeoning his mother to death with a whiskey bottle. After that, he spent his whole life being passed around, first to his grandmother who washed down a bottle of pills with a bottle of whiskey because she couldn’t live with the murder of her only daughter, Taylor came home from school and found her dead on the floor. Then he went from foster home to foster home being ignored, and rejected… his past left a big mark on him… okay, less like a mark and more like a hole. He needed constant validation… shit, I did my best, but he craved more. I guess I should’ve just walked away, but Taylor was the love of my life, and whether he admitted it or not, I knew I was his.
Our breakup was civil, but after that he ignored my calls and texts, and basically refused to talk to me because he knew we belonged together but didn’t want to face it like a man. So, I did what any sane, rational person would do, I went on line, found his ad on a gay massage site, booked a hotel room, and hired him using a burner phone. That was totally normal. Right?
Taylor showed up right on time and knocked on the door and said “hello, Jay,” that was his alias.
“Noah!? What the fuck?” He said with this look of total shock on his face.
“Well, you don’t return my calls or texts, and I had to get your attention somehow” I said, staring at him. “Come out of the hallway,” he hesitated but eventually came in. Damn, that man was hot as hell but I didn’t let him get to me. “So, how does this work?” I asked handing him the wad of money we agreed on.
“I think this is the part where you tell me I’m fucking up my life again.”
Touché. We argued about that a lot when we were together. “No. I mean the massage client thing; I hired you for a massage. How does it work?”
“You’re serious? You want me to give you a massage?”
“Give? No. I’ll pay. That’s what we agreed to, and that’s what I’m payin’ for,” I responded. I wasn’t backing down; I knew that would drive him crazier than any words I could say. Whenever we argued, he would totally play chicken with me until I gave in. Putting his foot down and coming at me until I buckled, but that wasn’t happening this time. “I pay you, then you do what I tell you. Right?” I was being a little snotty… of course I was, I was trying to get a rise out of him. One of the things I loved and hated about Taylor is that he was virtually unflappable.
“No. That’s not how it works. I’m not some sex slave for hire. You get on the table, I give you a massage, when we’re done, you pay me for the massage. That’s all” He said calmly. I knew Taylor well, and there was no doubt that he was flustered and his wheels were turning as he tried to figure out his next move. There was no way he was going to back down. He had always told me his massages were legit, I believed they were, to a point, but I also knew that he’d do more if the clients were willing to pay… he even admitted that. Surprisingly, that didn’t bother me all that much, in fact, I found it kind of hot that other guys were paying dearly for what I could get for free.
“Got it” I said before I shucked out of my clothes nonchalantly then stood there naked. “So, set up the table then.” Taylor just looked at me with a stoic expression (but I knew he liked what he saw). He let out a heavy sigh, then set up the table in the space between the bed and the wall, while I set the money on the nightstand. He kept his eyes locked to mine awaiting my next move, probably expecting me to give in like I typically did when it came to him. He set up the table, pulled a few candles from his bag and lit them, then pulled out a portable speaker and put on some music to set the mood. I gotta admit, he had game.
“Get on the table and lay on your belly with your face in the cradle” he said. I complied, stoned-faced on the outside but smiling with glee on the inside because I knew I was getting under his skin. I was buck naked on the massage table while Taylor stood at the head of the table in black linen pants, a black tank top. His hair was in a bun and his bulging biceps glistened under the candlelight. I put my face in the cradle and could see his bare feet… um, damn. I gulped as I felt myself get hard; it was going to be hard as hell not to give in first but I was determined… I was there to make a point.
Taylor’s oiled hands glided down my back and his crotch pushed against the top of my head, I could smell his clean musk and feel his ample budge through the linen. It was obvious he was wearing a jockstrap, probably the sexy black one I loved so much. Shit, I realized I was letting my lust for Taylor cloud my mission. “So, do you have a lot of clients?” I asked innocently as any paying client might trying to focus on the conversation instead of my lust.
“Just you today” he said in a cold voice, he did not like this game. I let things go silent between us, the only sound was the soft, soothing music in the background. He had finished my back and moved to my feet before I spoke again. I took a different approach, I went right to the heart of the matter, “Taylor, you know you don’t have to choose between a relationship and um, massage.”
He responded calmly as he massaged my foot… oh my god, he was good at this. “That’s the problem.”
“What? That you don’t have to choose?” I spoke softly as I melted under his touch.
“No. The way you said, ‘you don’t have to choose between a relationship and um, massage.’ That ‘um massage’ made it clear that you’ll judge me and think less of me as long as I’m doing what I do. And frankly, I love doing what I do.” His hands were now moving up my leg to my thigh and dangerously close to my warm, resting testicles. “I’ve always been honest with you that some of my massages go further.”
“And I’ve always said it was okay. I don’t judge you for it,” that comment had pissed me off. It was an unfair statement, I never judged him. “I get it and don’t really give a shit as long as you come home to me” I responded in my almost hypnotic state. But it was true, I really was okay with him being with other guys if he was safe, and wasn’t hiding it or lying about it. Okay, I’m about to share something with y’all that I rarely share with anyone… I did porn! Okay, it was two scenes, one solo and one where I sixty-nined with another guy. I’ve got this boyish, innocent look about me. I’m 22 but very twinkish with dark hair and light blue eyes, and everyone thinks I’m a prude. But I’m not dead, and I absolutely get how much fun and reaffirming sex for pay can be. “You know, I did porn a couple of times” I said out loud. Taylor was massaging my other foot, he tucked it into his armpit and leaned a little closer to my naked body.
“Bullshit” he said in a loud whisper.
“Nope, it’s true. The videos are still on line” I confessed. I don’t know why A) I had kept it a secret from him, and B) why I chose that moment to reveal it. Maybe I felt it would bring us closer.... you know, like a shared secret, or maybe I thought it would help him believe I was good with what he did.
My face was still in the cradle when Tyler dropped my foot and stopped our massage. I could hear him walking away from the table. I hesitated several seconds before I lifted my head and looked around the room for him. I didn’t have to look far; he was a few inches from me with his phone in hand. “Pull it up” he said.
“What?” I asked in my massage induced fog.
“Pull it up” he repeated.” I wanna see this alleged porn.” Alleged? I laughed a little inside, he thought I was making it up.
I took his phone and did a quick search, they weren’t hard to find, “There, they’re both there. Take your pick” I said handing the phone back to him. I watched the disbelief on his face as I listened to the familiar coos and moans coming through the JVL speaker that was still hooked up to his phone. I smiled… listen, I was young and needed the money, but I had no regrets; I totally understand the high that comes from people wanting you. Both videos were the interview with a “straight boy” kind of format. They asked my name, I went by Archer… the producer called me ‘Arc Boy’ because my name was Noah, Archer came from arc (yeah, I know, corny as fuck, but the guy is a porn producer what did you expect, Mensa?). “I’m not ashamed of it” I said to Taylor who was mesmerized by his phone. Then I barked, “You can finish them at home. This is my time.” Taylor looked up from his phone and shot me this smile, half human, half the devil himself.
“You totally caught me off guard, Archer” he chuckled as he put the music back on and resumed massaging my foot.
“You can be in a relationship, and still be a sexual being outside of the relationship” I said. “It takes honesty and communication. I fucking love you Taylor, and if loosening the leash is the price to be with you, I can live with that… as long as we set boundaries” I think I was trying to convince myself as much as I was trying to convince Taylor.
“Are you sure about that?” He asked as his hands moved up my other leg, this time touching my testicles ever so slightly. Just enough for him to get a reaction, yet still be able to claim it was an accident if I complained. Does an animalistic groan count as a complaint? I was loving this whole massage thing, Taylor had skills.
“Yeah, like I said as long as you’re upfront and not sneaky about it.”
“Like… what would you consider sneaky?” He asked trying to test my Boundaries.
“Like… you saying you were working late at the dealership while you were out with a Massage client” I said in a very relaxed voice as his hands continued to work their magic. “Or if you told me a client was strictly massage when there was really more to it, I mean, I hope you could tell me if it was more.”
Taylor was now massaging my glutes hard and deep, oh my fucking god! “So, like you’d really be okay if I came home and said, ‘Hi honey, rough day at work, my client asked me to eat his ass and fuck him hard like a jack hammer. My dick sure is sore. Dinner smells good. Is that meatloaf?’” I still had my face in the cradle, but I knew he was smirking as his fingers lightly touched my yearning hole.
“Yeah, I think I would, except for the meatloaf part, I wanna be partners, not your 1950’s housewife.” I said back, my voice still relaxed. Taylor snickered and gave my ass a playful smack.
“Really” he said in disbelief. “You’d be good with me fucking other guys for money?”
“If that’s what it took to make you happy and be part of your life… yup.” I was impressed with myself. I wasn’t getting emotional. I was listening to what he said. I was being honest… with Taylor and myself. I really thought I could handle it.
“But that’s not fair to you” he said as he dribbled the oil down my ass crack. “You want a monogamous relationship, with kids, a real family… and you deserve that. I’m too selfish for that right now.” His oily fingers tapped and taunted me, he penetrated my hole a little bit as he moved his talented hands up and down my crack… seriously, I had never felt so relaxed, blissful, and horny at the same time. I’ll say it again, Taylor had skills.
“Do you think you might ever want kids?” I asked, “I mean, yeah, I want a family and stuff, but not like tomorrow. We’re young, we have time.”
“I dunno, maybe. I mean Seth’s kids are hilarious, so are Max’s” Taylor said with a chuckle. “Remember when we were at Seth and Zach’s and Izzy brushed my hair for like an hour?”
I laughed, “She’s totally obsessed with your hair.” We both chuckled about that.
“I mean is that a deal breaker for you?” Taylor asked. “I never had a family, my father was… and still is, I guess… a total asshole, an awful human being, and a shit father. Could I even be a good father? I mean, aren’t parenting skills like genetic or something” I listened as he bared his soul, his miracle working hands never leaving my body. I realized that he had no clue what a normal family looked like, or how to have a relationship. I don’t think he didn’t want a family; I think he just didn’t know how, and was just terrified of being a shitty parent.
“No, it’s not really a deal breaker, I guess” I answered, kind of telling the truth.
Just then he slapped my ass and said, “Okay, time to flip over.” Shit, I had a hardon that could not be hidden. I flipped on to my back and used my hands to cover my embarrassment; I was glad for the dim lighting because my face was crimson red. “You can move your hands; it happens all the time” Taylor said with a smile. “Yeah, I’m just that good” he joked as he made his way to the head of the table again and started to oil up my chest. His own hardon was pressing against my head.
Once his hands went back to work, I went back to answering his questions. “I mean, I want kids, but you’re enough for me if that’s how things end up.” Again, I kind of meant that. We talked seriously as the massage continued; I was so lost in the conversation that I didn’t even realize Taylor had moved to my side and was jacking me off with his oily hand.
I opened my eyes to see him smiling down at me waiting for me to react. At some point he lost his shirt and pants, and let his hair fall over his shoulders. He stood there in his black jock (yup, it was the one I thought it was), backlit by the candles. His hair shined like spun gold, and his oiled skin glistened… he was a damn god, and he knew it. It was no wonder why guys paid him for this.
His hand was wrapped around my humble six and a half inches, stimulating every nerve ending. Taylor knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly what I liked, but he was reading my body cues too. He slowly moved his hand up my shaft, then twirled his fist, almost like he was polishing the head, then slowly moved his hand back down. He did this several times driving me fucking crazy. He used his free hand to cup my balls, massaging them as he stroked me almost to completion several times before stopping. I couldn’t take it anymore, I finally begged him, “please, Taylor. Let me cum.”
“Is that what you want? Would that make you happy?” He asked with mischief in his voice.
I wasn’t in control of my words anymore. “Yes. Yes, Taylor let me cum. Please!” I was whispering, but I was begging, and Taylor was loving every damn second of it. Taylor listened to me and kept going until I shot my load with incredible force. I must’ve shot a foot in the air, I never shot like that in my life. I could feel the cum pulsating through my manhood as it made its way up my shaft and took flight.
“Yeah, baby. That’s it. Let out the toxins. Let it all out” Taylor whispered. He continued to stroke me even after I came. My body shuddered with painful pleasure as the aftershocks shot through me; it seemed to go on forever. Taylor finally let go of my cock. “You happy?” He asked. I nodded. “That’s why they call it a happy ending” he said with a chuckle, then he made his way to the bathroom to clean up, before coming back and getting dressed.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
“You paid for an hour” he said as he took the money off the nightstand, “your hour’s up.” He folded his table and walked towards the door, I couldn’t believe that he was going to just up and walk out on me! I followed him to the door, he reached for the knob, then turned around, kissed me, and put the wad of money back in my hand. “Now you know what I do. Sometimes it goes even further. You sure you want to settle for me?”
Settle? Settle! For Taylor?! No such thing, he was the ultimate prize… internal mess or not. “I got the room for the night why don’t you stay?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure” I replied.
“You want honest communication… right?” He asked. I nodded. “I honestly can’t make any promises beyond tonight. I don’t want you to think it’s something more.”
“Could it be. You know… someday?”
“Maybe. But I’m not ready to commit, and I don’t want to lead you on” Taylor said with sincerity.
“That’s fair” I said. “Stay.” He leaned his table against the door, stripped back down to his black jock and we got into the bed together. We ended up talking all night… and I mean really talking. Taylor let his guard down and told me a lot about his past, things he never told me before, he talked a lot about his mom. All he had ever told me about her was that they were close before she was murdered. That night he talked about how hard she worked, how much fun she was, her laugh, her smile, how she used to take him for rides in her Mustang to get ice cream when his dad was drunk or on a rampage. Oh, get this, then he told me that Daddy James had tracked down his mother’s Mustang in some barn in Virginia, and Taylor bought it and towed it back to Daddy’s garage! Taylor and I had dated for over a year and I thought I had seen every side of him, but this sentimental, vulnerable side was new. It added another dimension to this sweet, confident on the outside/emotional mess on the inside.
When he agreed to spend the night, I pictured hot, wild sex (sex with Taylor was always amazing). Instead, we talked, cuddled, and reconnected that night… I fell even deeper in love with him. It felt great… no… it felt right waking up in his arms. God, I had missed him so much.
“Hey, what time do you have to be to work?” He asked me the next morning when we woke up. His strong arms enveloped me under the covers, his manhood nestled in my crack, and his soft lips kissed my neck.
“I’m actually off today” I answered. I was a nurse and worked three twelve hours shifts, which gave me four days a week off. “Why?’
“I don’t need to be at the dealership until 11:00, do you want to meet Sally?” Sally was what his mother had named her Mustang. This was an amazing sign! Taylor was inviting me even deeper into his world. I couldn’t believe that my corny plan to reconnect with him worked so well.
“Absolutely!” I answered.
“Cool, we can get breakfast at that shitty little diner across from Daddy’s garage when we’re done.” We got up and took a shower together… believe it or not, nothing happened. We soaped each other up and rinsed down under the warmish water, it wasn’t as sexual as it was intimate, and it felt good. After that, we packed our stuff up and I followed him over to Daddy’s garage in my car.
When we got there, he slid open the giant door to the building out back and flicked on the lights. It was a big steel warehouse type building, I had been there before to help fix up cars for The Village, but never really took it all in. Daddy had a lot of old cars (and junk) stowed away in there. A few were projects for The Village, a couple of them were his personal projects, and some he stored for other people… one stood out from the rest; Sally. She looked damn good for being over 50 and spending the last several years sitting in a barn. As we walked toward her, Taylor pulled out his phone and showed me pics, “here she is in the barn where we found her, and on the wrecker making her way here, and…” he went on and on. He was like a little kid at Christmas. This whole excited, sentimental, vulnerable side of Taylor was such a fucking turn on! The whole bullshit façade he shared with his customers at the dealership, and his massage clients was gone. This was the real Taylor. This was the guy I loved.
“She looks way better than I thought she would” he said as we walked around the car with him pointing out ‘her’ features and flaws before opening the door and getting behind the wheel.
‘She’ looked so much different than the pics he showed me from just two days ago, he had worked his ass off.
“I think she’s awesome” I said as I got into the passenger seat, “Can we take her for a spin?”
Taylor turned the key and the engine rumbled. “Daddy got her started, and I got the crud off her, but I still need to register her, insure her, and she still needs a shitload of work before she hits the road.” Then he drove us forward several feet, then back, “I promised Daddy that I’d wait until he looked her over before I took her out of the garage.”
We sat in the parked car with the engine rumbling, Taylor had the most adorable look in his eyes. It was childlike wonder, disbelief, and admiration all rolled up in pride. “Your Mom would be damn proud of you, babe” I said and punctuated with a kiss on the cheek. A tear rolled down his cheek. A real tear. This wasn’t about a car; it was about the one relationship in his life that he cherished. Taylor was a momma’s boy, and my heart both broke and soared for him at the same time. Finding Sally was like finding a piece of his mother.
We locked up the garage and walked over to the diner for breakfast. All through breakfast he talked about his mom and Sally, reliving the best time in his life.
After breakfast, we walked back to our cars and said goodbye. “Thanks” he said with a hug.
“For what?”
“For seeing through me. For going through all this shit just to talk to make me talk to you. Shit… just for being you and loving me.” There was this look of genuine sincerity in his beautiful eyes. Then he added, “I think I’m up for trying to make us work.”
Holy fuck! My heart soared again. If Taylor could make the effort to fix up a fifty + year old car, I could certainly make the effort to fix up Taylor… it was a labor of love.
To be continued…
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