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1 likes 578 views Category: Masturbation Male-Male Tags: india, mission


I had been travelling with D on various missions in Asia for a couple of years. D is a good-looking 30-year old, rather boyish in appearance. I have 60-odd summers. We are both happily married with children. I had always thought D was attractive, but not necessarily sexually.

Last year, we were in Hyderabad. D had a bad bout of Delhi-belly but was just recovering when we had to visit a place some 200 km away. If you have been in India, travelling 400 km in a day, with 3 hours of intensive work in the middle, will know that it is no mean feat.

When we eventually returned to our hotel, it was already dark. D almost crawled out of the car and said he was pooped with exhaustion. Having experienced the Wat Pho massage school in Bangkok on many occasions, I suggested to him he needed a massage, to which he immediately agreed, as he said his back was like a board. But he refused the hotel's masseuse, asking whether I would do it. I told him that I had never given a massage but he insisted. I obtained a bottle of massage oil which was perfumed with a heady mixture of sandalwood and jasmin. We laid a bath towel on his bed and he undressed down to his white briefs and laid on it face down.

I knelt astride him and started on his neck, rubbing in the scented oil and then worked down to his shoulders, which were as hard as a board, but he was beginning to relax. In the Thai style, I then did his right hand and worked up his arm to his shoulder and then the left arm. I slowly worked down to the small of his back and the top of his buttocks. From there, I started again at his feet and worked up his legs until I reached the bottom of his buttocks. I pulled down the elastic of his briefs and started working on his buttocks and D started to moan a little. Thinking I was going too far, I asked him whether I should stop and he said no, it was the pleasure of his relaxing that caused him to moan, in a voice that sounded half-asleep. I returned to the inside of his thighs, working upwards and worked my fingers under the leg holes of his briefs to rub his buttocks again from a different angle.

I turned him over onto his back, his briefs still covering his manhood and started working on the upper torso again when he asked me to do his legs again as he found that so more relaxing. His calf muscles seemed quite relaxed so I went up to his thighs and he seemed to get the greatest pleasure from the inside. As I worked up towards his scrotum, I could see that his bulge was growing a little. I was getting a little confused as I had never had any form of sexual contact with a man, before. My own feelings were a mixture of wanting to go further with him and revulsion, although I had a half-erection at this stage as well.

Suddenly, D sat up, pulled his Y-fronts down over his feet and laid back again, revealing his uncut half-hard glory, as if to invite me to carry on. I gently ran a finger round the base of his scrotum to see him react. I then ran fingers, so softly, down the grooves of his hip joints and round the base of his penis, by which time he was as erect as I could imagine. Cupping his balls in one hand, I ran a finger up his penis and, at this stage, his foreskin retracted back under the pressure of the purple head of his cock. By this time, his precum was flowing (and mine, in my trousers) and the heady scent of the oil mixed with that of his fluid.

D then urgently told me to stop and I was afraid that I had gone too far with him, but it was to tell me undress. I was rather embarrassed but did so, with my back to him, except for my boxers (my own cock was still rigid and had slipped through the slit). He told me to take them off and then to continue where I had left off. I slid onto the bed beside him and reached down to finger his cock, which responded by another few drops of precum which I lightly rubbed round his glans. I turned on my side towards him and D reached for the oil bottle and poured some into each hand and he started to rub it round my own flagstaff, in my hair, round my balls and behind them up to the cleavage. We must have spent about 30 minutes just gently touching each other, like that. I was certainly in a state of ecstasy, even though this was the first time in all my years that anything like this had happened, and I believe D was as well (he later said it was a first for him, too). He suddenly took hold of the base of my penis and started very gently pumping it and I took this as an invitation to do the same to him, which he seemed to like. I was slowly building up to a crisis and I started a hip movement which caused his oily hand to slide along my cock towards the glans and he started to wank it more vigorously, while I did the same to him. After all this foreplay, I could hold back no longer and burst forth into the most powerful orgasm and ejaculation of my life, sheer bliss. D did the same just a second later. We were both covered with cum from the chest down and I'm glad we had a towel on the bed, as well!

After getting our breath back for 15 minutes or so, we discussed the experience and then had a hot shower together to remove the oil, cum and sweat. I won't describe what went on in the shower or in bed, together (my own room was untouched that night) other than to say that this 60-odd-year-old had three more orgasms that night, something I didn't believe possible for at least 30 years!

Since then, D and I have had a few mutual wanking sessions on our travels but nothing as intense as that first time, for either of us. Unfortunately, we have both been moved to other departments, so we now no longer travel together, but I can still wank myself to the memory of that night in Hyderabad.

By the way, although we liked each other, very much, neither of us felt any emotional attachment for the other. We never kissed or did anything else, other than wank each other by hand, but with a good expertise of how to relieve the pressure of the absence from our wives.



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