The Accidental Handjob

Posted by: Age: 45 Posted on: 0 comments
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This is a true story



(Story refers to Canadian Dollars)

 

I am not a touchy-feely kind of person. Blame it on strict parents and a strict religious upbringing. I'm working with a therapist to get over this. She recommended that I get a one hour's 'Californian massage'-nothing more. This is a very light and sensual massage and would be a whole new experience for me. I wanted to keep sex out of the picture (for now anyway) so I tried booking a massage appointment at a respectable sports clinic, but the first available slot was after my next therapy session. I took the earliest booking they had and asked to be wait-listed. After a few days, no one had cancelled and I really wanted the experience before my next meeting with my therapist.



Three days before, I passed by a 'Clinique Massotherapie' as they are called here in Quebec. I called the number posted on the sign outside. I wrote it down.



The next day I called to book an appointment. They said they could take me right away which was great because they're only five blocks away. I was greeted by the receptionist who welcomed me, took my $50, and showed me to a room. It was a small room, just barely big enough to have a massage table and perhaps only three feet of clearance all around. It was a cozy room with dim indirect lighting and soft new wave music playing in the background.



The receptionist told me to take off my clothes and lay face down on the table. She then closed the door leaving me all alone. There was a sign posted on the wall that said in big bold letters that 'No sexual acts permitted in the clinic' and was signed 'The Management'. I was relieved, expecting a non-sexual massage.



I was already naked and laying on my front when the door opened. I raised myself up on my elbows and met a very pretty mid-twenties woman with a nice slim build. She said 'Bonjour' and I replied in broken French, somehow managing to get across that it was my very first time and that I wanted a very light massage. (I'm new to Quebec and my French is pretty bad.)



Sensing my inability to speak French well, she said in broken English, 'I give you very nice massage.' I lay flat on the table and I could hear what I thought was lotion being squeezed out of a squirt bottle. A few seconds later, she started massaging my shoulders. As she began, I realized that she hadn't draped a 'modesty' towel across my middle as I had heard that was the etiquette. I figured she would drape one over me when I would later roll over onto my back.



The massage was very nice. Her hands were very gentle and she used every light rhythmic sweeps with her hands. It felt very sensuous and I concentrated on fully enjoying this new sensation. She started across my shoulders and started working her way down my body. This included gently rubbing my bare buttocks. That was the first clue that this woman was uninhibited and the reason for no modesty towel.



Moving back and forth between my lower back and upper legs, she lightly brushed a finger gently down the center of my ass. It was electrifying. She traced the line from the top right down in behind my balls. A little later she ran her hands up the backs of my legs and into the area just behind my balls. Perhaps she was testing me. If anything was relaxing, this certainly was it! I was impressed how uninhibited she really was.



I started to feel an erection building. I remembered the sign on the wall. I was concerned that the moment I turned over, she would see my erection and think I was crossing-the-line. I didn't want to get into trouble. I tried to will my erection away by defocusing on the sexual aspect of what she was doing and just accept it as part of the massage. That didn't work at all. Every time she brushed her hands behind my balls, I just got harder.



After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she whispered in my ear to turn over. I knew I was hard. There would be no hiding. I tried composing in my mind how I would apologize for being hard. I wondered if she would drape me with a strategically placed towel. It was now the moment of truth. I flipped over and watched her face to see what her reaction was going to be. She smiled. No towel. She was looking right at my penis. This was not the reaction I was expecting. I apologized for being hard saying 'Desole' (Sorry) as I pointed down to my penis.



She smiled. In broken English she asked, 'I do for you?' She was gesturing the unmistakable back and forth motion with her hand. I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I knew exactly what she meant by that hand movement. I thought extra services were only available from the seedy massage parlors downtown.



I hesitated. I wasn't prepared for this. I could only think of asking 'Combien?' (How much).



All she said was 'Thirty dollars'. I was tempted, but was scared - mostly because I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I waved my hands to gesture 'No' and said 'Maybe next time'.



She began started with my shoulders then massaged my chest and down onto my abdomen. It felt really nice. When it was time to do my legs, she slid her hands flat against my hips, respectfully missing my penis. When she came back up to work my abdomen again, her hands got a little closer to my penis which I could feel was even more erect. She did a quick trip back up to my shoulders and then back down again, this time making contact with my penis. This was unexpectedly nice. She then began to tickle my balls.



Up to this point I was naive enough to think that maybe this is the way masseuses works; that maybe this was part of the 'Californian' Massage. I didn't think that masseuses were supposed to massage their customers' balls. I began to wonder if she had not understood me when I said 'Maybe next time'. (I didn't know how to say that in French.)



There was no mistaking that she had misunderstood me when she slid her hands up onto my penis and began cradling it. It was now completely hard.



I didn't think it was the right time to object. Besides, it was really feeling good. I didn't think I could get any harder, but I was wrong. She worked her fingers up and down my entire penis began, coaxing me into an even harder erection.



I didn't know what to think. Was she giving me a freebee? Was she ignoring what I had said and figured she could coax an extra $30 out of me? I stopped caring about those questions right away. I was enjoying this.



The masseuse seemed to know exactly what I liked. She flutter stroked my penis with one hand while fondling my balls with the other. As soon as my erection was at its peak, squirted a goodly amount of lotion onto my penis and balls and began spreading it around. She then cupped my balls with one hand and wrapped the other around my penis and began giving me nice full-length strokes.



Now, I have to say at this point that I have always been blessed with good ejaculation control. If the masseuse was hoping that this would be a quick $30, she was sadly mistaken. Her strokes got faster and faster in an attempt to quickly get me past the edge. She took extra care to stroke the tip of my penis hard.



I could feel an almost electric tingling feeling build inside my penis as she continued stroking harder and harder. I spread my legs wide to give her all the access to me she might want. I could enjoy this for hours. I raised my head to watch her. She stood at my left side, working me furiously with both hands, with look of determined seriousness. Every so often, she squirted more lotion on my penis. She was working hard for her $30.



After about 10 minutes of this, I started to worry that she might have a time-limit at which point she would stop or demand more money. I decided to quit holding back and allow myself to cum. She seemed to sense this as well and started stroking me even faster. I let the orgasm build slowly. By now she was vigorously playing with my balls, doing an interesting very fast four finger movement. I could feel my balls start to draw up tight against my body. I was getting ready to cum.



The actual orgasm itself took quite a long time to build. I had the most incredible orgasm that I've ever had. I lifted my legs into the air as I came. It was very powerful. This was much better than masturbating myself, and I'd say even better than vaginal sex.



She continued stroking me while my erection subsided. I felt like I was floating on air - or at least my penis was! She removed her hands. I was completely drained. I closed my eyes and heard water running in a sink. I then felt her place a warm wet facecloths onto my penis and balls. She began cleaning me up and finally removed the cloths. Then, without saying a word, she silently left the room.



I lay on the table, totally exhausted. I couldn't move. The soft sound of music and my still rapid breath were the only things I could hear. After a couple on minutes, I got off the table and got dressed. I hesitated leaving the room as I didn't know to whom I should give $30 - if at all. I didn't know. The masseuse didn't come back. Maybe this was a 'freebee' to entice me to come back again. I looked at the sign again. It wasn't a government sign - just a clinic sign. If the masseuse was giving handjobs on the sly, I couldn't give it to the receptionist, because that might get the masseuse fired.



Just as I was getting ready to leave, the masseuse returned. I asked if I should give the $30 to her. She said yes and accepted my offered bills. This was also the first time I got to speak with her while standing. I found it very strange finally talking to a beautiful woman who had just 10 minutes earlier given me the best orgasm I'd ever had. We hadn't exchanged any more than 20 words in the room. I didn't think she would say goodbye with the traditional French-Canadian double-cheek-kiss (I love this town!) or shake her hand, or what. I offered her my hand and said 'Merci Beacoup.'



She smiled, took my hand with her two (they were very, very soft) and told me 'Bienvenu' (You are welcome). In broken English she told me to please come again, ask specifically for her, and let me know that she worked Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.



I'm sold. I've already booked for next Tuesday and thinking of making it a regular weekly visit.

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