I attended the School of Architecture in..... I was in my second year and 23-years-of-age. In class, our professor divided us into eight groups (four students each), and Lincoln, a casual friend was in our group. The project was to submit a proposal for a playground. The assignment was given on Monday at a one o'clock lecture, and was due that Friday at the same time. We were required to address about a dozen issues, with a final presentation to be submitted as in a competition for a contract. Ended up that the winning submission was submitted to the community (not our proposal) and the playground was built in the town's park. We helped to build it, great experience. We started working on our proposal, and went non-stop to get it ready. Made the deadline, but I was exhausted and totally stressed out.
I commented how tight my neck and shoulder muscles were, and Lincoln suggested I call a fellow named Earl for a massage. Gave me his number. I had never had a massage before, but though it would be a good solution. Called Earl, and was quoted the rates of $4 for a half hour, $7 for an hour and $9 for one and a half hours. I checked my wallet, and having $12, I took one and a half hours, thinking I needed all of it. You can tell by the prices how long ago this event took place. He had an immediate opening and I walked over to his apartment.
Got nervous as I approached his door, but I did knock and he welcomed me in. I can still remember his attire: cut off jeans, an open shirt with a tank top undershirt and thongs on this feet. He was not as tall as I, but was solidly built. I probably looked a wreck (had not shaved for four days), and he advised me to take a shower while he made things ready.
After drying off, I entered the room where his massage table was set up wearing my towel around my waist. He had removed his shirt and jeans, and was standing there in his tank top and boxers. Surprised me a little. He told me to discard the wet towel and he would cover me with a sheet. I lay face down and he covered me with the sheet from shoulders to feet. He then folded the sheet down to expose my back (and what felt like most of my butt). He asked a few questions and carried on a pleasant conversation as he worked.
He started lightly and soon was working out the tension and pain in my neck, shoulders and back. The long stokes often glided over my butt, and felt quite marvellous to me. Two things really got to me though. One, when he was using just one hand to stroke my back, his other hand would rest on my butt cheek, with his finger tips in my cleavage touching my butt hole. The feeling was incredible. Secondly, I could often feel his pecker graze my fingers or arm while he was moving about the table. He had his boxers on, but there was no mistaking what was behind the cloth.
He then went on to massage my feet and legs. Without saying a word, he completely removed the sheet. The massage on my feet and legs felt absolutely wonderful. His fingers kept stroking the back of my sac. His thumb worked my butt hole while his two fingers massaged my perineum. His hand and arm (right up to the elbow) glided up the juncture of my abdomen and leg. The hair on his arm really tickled my sac. His finger tips slid along my stiff cock each time he pulled his hand out. The work on my butt was a mind blower. At this point, I could tell his cock was hard also, as it pointedly grazed my hand, leg or foot. I was tempted to hold onto his cock, but I was too chicken. I was in a real dilemma with my emotions, but said nothing. It was virtue versus sensation, and virtue lost.
He said he would hold up the sheet, and I could turn over. He covered me, and then folded the sheet in half, which felt like my sac was exposed to fresh air. My pecker was certainly holding up the sheet. He started with my feet and legs. Again, the thigh work was incredible, promoting a full erection. I must have looked grim with embarrassment, as he casually commented that most men get erections in a massage. His hands were continually gliding past or fingering my sac and butt cleavage. My pecker was rock hard.
He then removed the sheet altogether, and my pecker was literally pulsing. You could see it bob up and down. He casually inquried if it had been awhile since I had 'emptied my sac', and I said 'yes'. 'Do you want me to help out?' 'Yes,' was my timid verbal reply, and he continued to massage my chest, abdomen and groin. At this point, my pecker was really getting a lot of attention. He kept it hard, but always seemed to know when he was getting me to the edge of ejaculating.
I finally told him I couldn't stand the exhilaration anymore and he finished me off. First time in my life that semen splashed me in the face.
He cleaned me off, and continued to lightly caress my bod. I was so exhausted and relaxed, that I went to sleep.
I awoke the next morning after 8:00 o'clock in his bed. How he carried me, I don't know, but I cannot remember being moved. He welcomed me back to life. Asked me how I felt. 'Wonderful,' was my reply.
He was wandering about his apartment nude. Hung better than I with his foreskin intact. Told me to jump back on the table and he would check for any 'residual tensions.' I do not know if he slept with me or what happened while I slept. He offered nothing and I didn't ask, but there was only one bed in his apartment.
I climbed back on the massage table. No sheet or boxers were in the way this time around. He worked on a few tight spots in my neck and shoulders, and did an ample review of my butt and thighs. I flipped over, and held his pecker as he worked the knots out of mine. Soon, I was jacking him as much as he was me. I shot cream onto my stomach (my usual distance), and he shot his load several minutes later. I really had to work his cock vigorously to get him to ejaculate. We cleaned off together in his shower. I was advised that the 'follow up' was complementary, so I still had a few bucks left over. I tried to leave a tip, but he rejected it saying he was richer than I. Never forgot the experience. Fantasize about it periodically.