I’m not interested in guys. I’m totally heterosexual. And yet, there’s this guy I go to every Thursday after work. Yes, my wife knows. I told her all about it, and she’s fine with it. In fact, I believe she prefers it, since it takes the burden off her to perform. You see, she’s become less interested in sex lately.
So, a guy from work told me about Kyle. He’s a sort of massage practitioner. When George, the guy from work told me the details, I was almost kind of sickened. I was really surprised George would tell me about getting a handjob from another guy. That’s just gross, or so I thought at the time.
Then, it started playing on my mind. George brought it up only once. I guess seeing my reaction let him know not to discuss such things with me again. Oh, I’m sure I was polite, but no doubt I was stand-offish too, when George told me that. But, the thought of it kept haunting me.
It slowly mutated. I cringed in weirdness, almost horror when I pictured George, naked on some massage table, getting a handjob. Yucky! Then, I imagined myself on the massage table. I didn’t try to imagine it. In fact, I tried not to. I started to wonder what this Kyle guy looked like. According to George, he was young, putting himself through college with these handjobs.
I started to rationalize. Was it so ‘gay’ after all? My wife wasn’t putting out so much any more. Didn’t I deserve something more? I’d never cheat on her, of course. But, was it cheating? It wouldn’t be if she knew about it and was on board with it.
All too soon, the thought evolved so severely that I was starting to crave a handjob from this Kyle guy. I was plotting ways to make it happen. Not that I’d ever do such a thing, of course.
As Christmas approached, Jaylene, my wife, asked what I wanted. I told her I didn’t want a physical present. I wanted sex. She acted shocked, telling me a guy has to be ‘more romantic.’ One doesn’t just come out and ask for such things. I knew from experience, ‘more romantic’ wasn’t it. I had been plenty romantic. But just how romantic can you be with two children in the house? I knew she had shifted. It was probably a menopause thing.
I was feeling angry about the loss. Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but suddenly I just blurted it out, “If I can’t have sex with you, I’m going to get it elsewhere.”
She got mad. She cried. Then she got mad again, and cried again. She had assumed I meant that I was planning to go to a woman for intercourse. She wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t already. That left no choice. As embarrassing as the thought was, I had to tell her about Kyle. I thought she’d clobber me. I mean literally. She’s never been violent, but I could imagine her getting so upset that she’d hit me over the head. I could understand her disappointment. To find out after all these years that her husband is gay. Or at least had gay tendencies, to put it in proper perspective.
Her reaction wasn’t at all what I expected. She settled down immediately. Then she smiled. She found it amusing. I probably turned red in the face. Then, suddenly, she said, “Yes, do it.”
“Do it?”
“Go to Kyle. See what it’s like. It isn’t going to hurt you any. And, I believe it will preserve our marriage. I feel your frustration, and wish I could do something about it, but my hormones are all wrong. I can’t stand the idea of sex lately.
“But one thing: You’ve gotta tell me all about it once it happens.”
I happily agreed. This was a big hurdle I had just overcome.
The remaining hurdle was bigger. I had to overcome my own objections. Or was it fear? Or proper caution? Or something else?
Then it turned out there was yet another hurdle. George had told me about Kyle that one time those several weeks ago. But I didn’t know anything about how to contact him. I’d have to ask George.
It took me a week to bring it up. I mean, how do you ask your buddy about getting a handjob from another man? I know, George had brought it up to me first. It should have been easy for me to walk up to him and just say, “So, how do I get in touch with this Kyle guy?”
Finally, that’s exactly what I did. I just walked up, and trying not to hesitate or seem too weird, I asked. George laughed good-naturedly. “I thought you’d be asking one of these days.” He gave me Kyle’s number.
Another week went by before I could bring myself to phone Kyle.
During that week, there was a major breakthrough at home. I had never masturbated in front of Jaylene. I found the whole idea terribly embarrassing. But one night, thinking about this whole business with getting a handjob from a guy, I was surprisingly horny. I made a half-hearted attempt to get Jay interested in sex, but she wasn’t having it. So, right there in bed, next to her under the covers, I just started masturbating.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I just told her. “I’m masturbating.”
“Oh, let me see,” she said with a sparkle in her eye. I had not expected quite that. I had expected a lecture on how masturbating is bad or something.
She talked me into removing the blanket and sheet so she could actually see me masturbate. My penis had gone soft, and I found it quite troubling to let her see me like that. Embarrassing. But she insisted, and I knew it was a glass ceiling I had to break through. So I let her see my soft willie. I worked it for quite a while, and finally I started getting hard. Shortly after that, under her attentive eye, I squirted cum on my belly.
She sort of cheered. I was surprised, but delighted to have taken our relationship to a whole new level. I instinctively knew this was big. Now, I’d be able to jerk off in our bed any time I wanted, and not have to sneak a quick wank in the shower or anything like that.
Anyway, I finally called Kyle, or actually his receptionist. She sounded pleasant enough. I booked Thursday at 5:30 pm. During that workday, I had trouble concentrating, and the day dragged on and on. Finally 5pm came. I put the tools away, cleaned up my bench, and drove over to his place. I arrived at 5:20. I felt I couldn’t go in yet, so I spent ten minutes in my car looking at junk on my cell phone.
At 5:30 I knocked on the office door in the little strip mall, not knowing what to expect. It turns out I needn’t have knocked. The door opened into an outer office and waiting room. Sitting behind a desk was a knockout gorgeous woman with long brunette hair. She asked my name, and confirmed my appointment, indicating a seat. I sat down and started nervously fiddling with my phone. Oh, yes, I was ridiculously nervous.
Only a few seconds later, she indicated a door, and said, “You can go on back.”
I walked into a beautiful room. It was dimly lit, but not dark, and reminded me of an aquarium. There were murals on all the walls of aquatic scenes. There was a vague aroma of something nice. Perfume? Incense? Aftershave? I couldn’t quite tell. Standing in the corner was a good-looking youngster. He was bearded as is so fashionable these days, and had bright eyes and a brilliant smile. He came forward offering a handshake and introduced himself.
We chatted for a moment. He told me that he started off as an ordinary massage practitioner. That he had taken the training as his first step in becoming an architect. That in order to put himself through school without a huge student loan at the end, he figured he’d give massages. Only thing was, there was no business. Only when he started giving handjobs did his business take off.
He said ‘handjobs’ without the slight change in inflection. I would have had trouble just saying the word.
I knew the big moment had come. His segue was simple enough. He just said, “Most guys prefer to be entirely naked for this, but you can just lower your pants if you prefer.”
I didn’t want to seem prudish, so although the lowered pants alternative seemed better to me… In fact, running out of the room saying “Forget it” seemed like the best alternative at the moment. Instead, I opted for full nudity. Why not? Wasn’t this going to be crazy enough already?
As I stripped, so did Kyle. I wasn’t expecting that. It felt weird. On the one hand, one feels better nude with the others around you nude also. On the other hand, here I was with a perfect stranger, a man no less, getting naked.
He wasn’t a bad-looking man. Tall, slim, long-haired, black-bearded. Interestingly, while I was expecting a whole mass of black hair around his dick, he was totally clear down there. No hair, like a little kid, although his cock was not kid-sized. Far from it.
He had me lay on his table on which he had thrown a clean sheet. He went over to a sink and washed his hands….
I asked about the receptionist. Like, could she come in and see me all naked? He assured me that she never interrupts a session.
Kyle went to work, and it was entirely different than I had expected. I was thinking maybe he’d just grab my dick and jerk me off. Far from it.
First, he had me turn over to be face-down on his massage table. He connected something like a doughnut shaped pillow to the end into which I could rest my face. He massaged my back, my neck, my arms, my legs, then my hands. Yes, my hands, and oddly, even though it was a guy doing it, that felt very nice. He went back to my legs, then he was firmly massaging my ass. I really hadn’t expected it to feel so nice.
After what amounted to perhaps ten minutes overall, he asked me to turn over. I realized that my cock had become rock hard, something I totally wouldn’t have expected. I was kind of reluctant to flip over and let him see me totally erect. This would be the first time in my life that a guy would see me in that condition. It took me only a moment to rationalize, understanding that this wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen erections. But on the other hand, he hadn’t even touched my cock yet. I mean, getting hard just from a massage administered by a guy. How gay is that? Finally, I had to conclude that my thinking was way wrong and out-of-date. Like, who cares if it’s gay? Big fucking deal!
So, flip over I did. Again, I was expecting him to reach right out and start wanking me. Not so. Instead, it was my arms and legs again. After a few minutes, he took a break. I didn’t look over to see what he was doing. I realize now, he was doing nothing. It was just what you might call an artistic pause.
He approached the table and then did the weirdest thing. With one fingertip he started running along the mid line of my ballsack. It was a super-light touch. In fact, I think he was just touching my crotch hair on my scrotum. But my god, that felt amazing. Not a tickle, but something that caused my now super-hard cock to jump an inch with each slow stroke.
Frankly, I could have enjoyed just that for an hour. Instead, a minute later, he started doing the same super-light stroking of my frenulum, causing my dick to again jump each time. If you’ve never had that done… Well, let’s just say, you’ve got to get someone to do that to you – and frankly, it doesn’t matter if it’s a man or woman, tall or thing, young or old, fat or thin. You’ve just gotta experience it!
Finally, I did get my handjob. He started by super-lightly wrapping his whole fist around my cock, and moving up and down frustratingly slowly. Too lightly, too. I was so ready to cum, but he was kind of teasing me with the slowness.
Then, oh my god, I started to feel that ‘gonna cum’ feeling and was all set to ejaculate. I could tell this was going to be one of the best orgasms of my life. And Kyle stopped. He just let go and totally stopped. What the fuck? I was so close to cumming that my urethra contracted a time or two, but nothing came out.
All in all, he did that two more times. How he could read my physiology so closely to manage those spasms, which I now know were dry orgasms, I have no idea. I guess he’s an experienced expert, after all. On the third time, I just came. Squirt, squirt, all over my belly. Some even shot up to my chin, and one little droplet got into my mouth.
Kyle left the room saying “I’ll give you some time to compose yourself and clean up,” indicating a towel I could use.
It did take me time to compose myself. For literally a full minute, I felt like I couldn’t even lift myself off the table. Five minutes later, I was dressed and out the door.
That evening, I told Jaylene about it. At first, I was kind of shy about the whole thing, but she insisted she wanted to hear about it. She pressed me for more details, so finally, I blurted out the whole thing. Did I see a sparkle in her eye?
On that evening, nothing happened with Jaylene, but I was so charged up, I went ahead and jerked off in bed with her. Oddly, she watched me intently. There was that sparkle again.
I was dying to book another appointment with Kyle, but how to bring it up with Jaylene? I figured to ask would be somehow too embarrassing. I needn’t have worried. She asked me whether I’d like to book with Kyle again. How cool is that? Jaylene has always been a supportive wife, but this was remarkable.
So, a week later found me in Kyle’s office again, and I got pretty much the same treatment. It was as delightful as the first time. He added some new flavors, such as pulling and holding my frenulum for a full minute.
Here’s where it gets interesting. Again, back at home, Jaylene wanted all the details. Then, she wanted to fuck. Really! Hearing about my time with Kyle turned her on big-time.
You would think after Kyle’s amazing treatment, I’d be done. Wouldn’t be able to get it up for Jaylene. Wrong! Her tight, slippery, amazing little vagina got me off a second time that day within just a couple of minutes. Realizing she hadn’t had an orgasm, I happily turned to her, and licked her clit giving her one of the biggest, moaningist, shakingist orgasms of her life.
Since that time, I have been back to see Kyle three more times. And yes, every time afterward Jaylene and I got it one.
Yesterday she quietly asked, “Does Kyle do women too?”