Gay masseur stories
After the rain: a gay massage story
Below is a unreal gay massage story contributed by our writer. It is written from the point of view of a queer masseur.
After the rain: a gay massage story
It rained and rained, until I started to perceive as if I had a moisture feature installed in my balcony. The soothing sound of rain I could get used to, but stepping outside was always a thoroughly miserable affair. I had recently acquired a sturdy new umbrella, but no amount of waterproofing could defend my light summer shoes from getting soggy with rainwater.
However, now the skies had cleared somewhat, and as I stepped indoors after returning from a bike ride, I was pleased to see that my feet remained perfectly dry. Placing my fabric trainers on the shoe rack, I dropped my gaze to my wristwatch: I had an hour. A whole, luxurious hour. Unbelievable.
The anticipation
Off went the sweat-soaked hoodie and t-shirt, and I flashed myself a cheesy grin in the bathroom mirror: hello, handsome. I had stepped up my game at the gym and it did show: my arm muscles were acquiring a good tone and the six pack was more defined by the day. I stepped into the shower and a chilly stream of fluid made me
Not long ago, I made a massage appointment at my health club, an overpriced institution with a cranky, late-70’s tennis legend as its spokesman. I didn’t check on the sex of the massage therapist. As a linear male, I somehow assumed-or maybe just hoped-that the receptionist would give me a female masseuse. My sexual taste, it turns out, was a moot point: My gym only offers male masseurs.
I discovered this as I walked into the little, dimly lit massage room, where I met Hans, a tall, well-built fortysomething who looked as if he owned a pair of leather chaps for weekend use. No problem, I consideration, trying to retain positive. Hans seemed nice enough, and when he lit the candles and started the Enya CD (does the massage guild need all members to use the equal music?), I began to drift off into that semi-relaxed massage-induced state.
Massage therapy, once an indulgence of the country-club set, has grow the Starbucks of the bodywork planet. An estimated 35 million Americans expend roughly $3 billion annually on visits to massage practitioners, totaling 75 million visits each year. For me, it’s become the equal of air explore or medical exams: I rely on i
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First experiences in gay male massage
Below are two stories shared by one of our clients and the founder of Touch of London, respectively. What connects them? New beginnings. In the first story, a client has his first massage experience. In the second one, a gay male massage agency comes into being.
First gay massage experience
Told us by one of our clients, who prefers to stay anonymous. Would you like to share your experience? Please write to us and let us know whether you are happy for your story to appear on site.
I had had massage before, of course. While on holidays, when recommended by my doctor after a bicycle accident, and just to relieve stress. The only difference was that I was massaged in a strictly clinical way, and often by a woman. This was going to be something entirely different…
I would not describe myself as socially relaxed in general, and conclusion myself naked in a room with a handsome stranger was a pleasant prospect, of course…but also a daunting one. The first time I booked was even before I arrived in London. A friendly voice on the other end took my details, wished me a excellent massage, and a confirmation arrived by text message shortly after