This is a dead on target accounting of my living over the past few years and this history continues.

It has been sometime since I ran into Savanah, the TS, in San Francisco. My life is fairly normal, work and divorced, with nestling. I am five-foot ten, fine-looking, muscular and I am over seven inches, intemperately. I am very physical, always doing sports activity and being grueling on my body.

I take care of my consistence and have a neat CMT, or certifiable massage healer. I have seen her on a regular basis.

The major round in my biography came when my CMT moved away in an emergency to assist a cast family line member. I had scheduled an appointment that very evening, which my sore sinew really needed. I decided to go on Craigslist to look for out therapists. several numbers had no answer, and others had no availability. When I finally reached person, it 's a guy who has a recently fitting in his home office, so I got on my way for a good ninety-minute massage.

I arrived at Jim's and discovered he was a grandiloquent, ( six-foot four ) dark-haired Italian in very honorable configuration, and he looked strong. We spoke so that he could infer what massages I 'd had in the past.
He instructed me to take a ardent exhibitor and then get on the table. I had finished and, with a towel over me, I got on the table.

He used warm lotions and crude oil which could stain, and he asked if I would be okay if he removed the"draping"- in other discussion, the towel.

I said sure existent fasting, not thinking anything about it. He was a CMT and does this all day long, so I was n't embarrassed.

The warm oil and his metier was stupefy ; he was working rich, and his hands slid over the different body contribution. The incense he was burning and the massage put me in a enchantment and I felt as I was drifting off to the boundary of sleep. I think I began to moan as his hands worked deep into my thighs and up to my low book binding, and I was feeling amazing. This was the best massage I had ever received and my consistency told me so, with a articulated lorry hard-on.

He said, `` I 'm going to rise onto the table so I can get deeper into your backrest. ``

I didn't really pay care to what he said because of the pleasure I was feeling.

I felt his hands making foresightful strokes up and down my peg and over my ass to my binding. I think I felt his bridge player moving further inside my stage with every stroke, and then I felt his thumb component my ass cheeks ; as time passed, his pollex rubbed over my twitching hole.
He grabbed oil and poured it on my low back and then down my cracking, which he quickly and aggressively wiped with his deal. He pushed into my trap and worked the oil in with his fingers. I became more aware of what was happening, and I felt his thumbs dig in deep.

His thumbs went right into the opening and he spread my cakehole unresolved. I was about to speak up when I realized it's not uncomfortable, but actually very pleasant. I found myself wanting more of the Same. He began to concentrate his attention there and then went just inside my hole with his fingerbreadth and moved them around and in and out.
My shaft was hard as a rock and straining under my soundbox, and I was feeling cramped. I wiggled a little to ease my cramped cock.

Jim asked,"You comfortable ? ``
I responded,"It's just a lilliputian cramped. ``
He offered to help oneself fix it. He reached between my peg and grabbed my cock and pulled it down so that it lay between my legs.
'' Ohhh my ... '' his hand on my cock was so beatify, I almost lost my breathing place. I was letting out an occasional moan of pleasure, it felt so dependable, but I was also humiliated because I am very turned on. He was a professional and I knew it had happened to him before. I have found myself hard with a few women who have worked on me in the past.
Jim said,"I am going to go deeper and I need to move up the table. ``
"okey, I 'm good,"I said. I was feeling unbelievable, and harder than I had ever been in my life.

I felt his knee on either side of meat of my waist, but not much of his weight unit. His work force were stoking and pushing deep up my back to my shoulders. With every farseeing stroke up my back, he pushed all the stress and latent hostility away.
It was then that I noticed something laying on my ass crack that slue with each push. I wasn't sure as shooting what I felt and so I chose to shift, and my ankles fell off the mesa so that my legs spread wider.

It was at that consequence that I made a great breakthrough !

Massaging me, Jim was naked ! The objective sliding on my crack was his nine-inch peter, which, with my wooden leg spread, had landed at the threshold to my ass. Jim kept his stroke up, and with each one the big mushroom tip of his rooster was working itself into my ass.

My profligate was pumping, fondness racing, and I really felt my arse vellication. It felt like my head was yelling for me to tell him to stop, but this was not what my dead body was saying ; it had ideas of its own. I wanted this guy's vast prick to penetrate me ... I wanted him to fuck me.
I 'd thought I was straight, never a gay thought. I have supporter who are gay, and I have never disagreed with their selection. I spent a few mo in this internal conflict, during which time Jim had gotten just the headland of his cock inside me.
Jim suddenly said, `` It's time to turn you over, I 'm going to work on your front, '' and with that he pulled out.
"Aaahhh !"I said.
I was trying to tell myself I was glad he stopped, but what formed in my head was, 'Why did he contain ?'Why did he stop, why ? It felt so good, and I 'd need it to bear on to see where it would go.
I turned over and my cock was standing up like a signal flag rod. My cock standard seven column inch, but I was so operose that I felt like my cock was too big for the room, and I hoped it would cushion soon.

Jim said zip and began to make for on me ; beginning my arms and shoulders. While Jim was massaging me I noticed that his severely turncock would occasionally brush up against me, making my rooster twitch, and me ruttish. He finished my arms and began on my legs, which started to really get my oral sex spinning. He kept bumping into my straining cock, which just made it harder and more sensitive.

It was at this point Jim turned to me and said, `` We need to get that taken attention of. ``

I thought maybe a towel to guard it down ; however, that was farthermost thing from what actually happened.

Jim stood at the side of the table, and faster than I could consider he had engulfed my whole prick in his mouth. It was so fast I never had time to object or try to stop him. The warmth of his rima oris and his tongue swirling around the head of my cock was too much for me to treat. My back arched off the tabular array and I shot stream after stream of cum in his mouth.

I had never cum so hard in my life history ! Each hot cum-load poured into his oral cavity, and he responded with a moan. Too soon, `` pop, '' like a ice lolly, the drumhead of my pecker fell from his mouth onto my belly. He took every drop.

I went into the shower and cleaned up and got dressed to head home. The driving, and that night, trying to sleep, was difficult, with questions and thoughts that made me more confused than I had ever been.

"wait, '' I said,"I am straight ! '' I was yelling at myself. This had been nutcase, some fluke, crazy outcome that got way out-of-hand. He must have thought I was gay and that what happened was what I must ingest wanted. Wow ... boy was he wrong.

'' Yes, '' I told myself, `` he was mistaken. '' I decided to call off him and discuss it with him.

I called him, but he was officious, and so quickly I told him that it got out-of-hand, and that it was not me or what I wanted.

He apologized and said he 'd just felt a connection and assumed I was into guy wire. He offered, if I ever wanted, to make it up to me with a gratis ninety-minute massage.

I said to myself,"See everything is clear, all understood and dear. ``

I called the next week to take him up on his offer, which led me to my sexuality spinning out of ascendancy .