The Hairdresser - Part 3

The Hairdresser

Part 3 of 4

Story by Ben

When I called Daniel, he said he could see me for a massage the following evening at his apartment. I immediately became anxious. Perhaps he was just a professional masseur who does proper healing massage and nothing "extra". That would be fine: he was so gorgeous to look at, and his touch was so gentle, that I would certainly enjoy the massage without anything "extra". But how would I know what to expect and how to behave? I didn't want to strip naked if it would be inappropriate. But I didn't want to keep my boxers on if that might make me seem prudish. Or worse, if it might make Daniel think I wanted only a regular professional massage even if something extra was available! And what if I got an erection as soon as I arrived?

I told myself I had to be realistic and keep my expectations low. The guy was at least fifteen years younger than me and much better looking. Even if he did sometimes offer something "extra" to a massage client, why would he offer it to me? He must get plenty of younger clients with hotter bodies.

Of course, my anxiety about the massage was outstripped by my excitement about it! I could not stop thinking about it all evening. The result was that I was erect or semi-erect the whole evening, apart from a few periods when my cock and balls shrivelled up to nothing at the thought that I might completely embarrass myself by arriving at Daniel's apartment with an erection or that I might get so aroused by his sensual touch that I would not be able to stop myself cumming.

Despite my intense and liberating afternoon wank in the office toilets, by the time I went to bed I was pretty excited by all the thoughts about the massage that had occupied my mind all evening, and I knew I would not get to sleep without releasing, for the second time that day, the pressure that had built up in my body. This time, though, I would be in control. In the afternoon, the need for release had been urgent and had taken control of my body. This time I could take my time. The sensations would be less intense, but they would last a lot longer.

I got into bed, naked as usual. I like to be naked in bed. I love the feeling of the bedclothes next to my naked body. I was lying on my back, with my cock on my stomach, pointing up towards my chest. It was already starting to harden, and I knew it would not take long to become completely hard.

My fingers played with my nipples and my chest hair. I imagined they were Daniel's fingers. Then I worried again. Would he be turned off by my hairy chest? His chest, I felt sure, was completely smooth: perhaps he would be uncomfortable massaging a hairy chest.

I pictured Daniel standing over me. I pictured him naked. (I did not, of course, expect to see him naked, but I intended to spend the time before falling asleep firmly in the realm of fantasy!)

I imagined Daniel's chest completely smooth. His chest and stomach would be of the same olive color that I had seen where his top two shirt buttons were undone. Only his bikini area would be paler. Of this I was sure. After that, things became more uncertain.

I imagined a big bush of thick dark pubes; I imagined neatly trimmed pubes; I imagined Daniel completely shaven.

I imagined his cock long and thin and uncircumcised; I imagined it shorter and thicker and circumcised. I imagined a small tight ball-pack; I imagined heavy low-hanging balls.

I imagined his legs covered with dark curly hair; I imagined them as smooth as his chest. I became excited at the thought that, unlike the rest of his body, I might actually get to see his legs: it must be quite likely that a masseur would wear shorts for a massage.

During all this time I had not touched my cock. I had run my hands over my chest and stomach, imagining them to be Daniel's hands. My hands - Daniel's hands - had played with my pubes. They had moved on to my legs, but I had deliberately kept them away from my cock and balls to prolong the pleasure. My cock had, of course, become rock-hard, and I realized that for some time the underside of my cock had been rubbing against the bed covers. With all these thoughts of Daniel's gorgeous body and of his hands sensuously massaging my chest and legs, I had become pretty aroused and I knew I could bring myself to orgasm just by continuing to move my hips up and down to rub my cock gently against the bedclothes. But I wanted to feel my hand - Daniel's hand - gripping my hard cock.

I took hold of my cock with one hand, and I let the other hand move delicately up my thigh to the hairs between my legs behind my ball sack, then up the other thigh to the same spot. I let my fingers - Daniel's fingers - play there, before letting them take a gentle hold of my ball-pack. The hand on my cock had been making slow stroking movements. I could feel every vein, every tiny undulation of my rigid cock.

I looked up and I saw Daniel standing beside the bed. Now it was his own cock that he was massaging. He was stroking his long cock - yes, it was long and thin. With his other hand he was playing with one of his nipples. His strokes were slow and gentle, but they were starting to get faster. His cock was right above my body. He threw his head back. I could see that he was becoming lost in the sensations. He stroked his cock faster still. His other hand was now moving all over his body - his chest, his neck, his stomach, his legs, the inside of his thighs, his buttocks. Suddenly that hand stopped moving, his body thrust forward, and he shot stream after stream of white cum onto my stomach.

I loved the feeling of his young warm cum landing on my stomach, and I immediately started to shoot my own juice into Daniel's puddle, spurt after spurt of thick cream mixing with Daniel's juice.

As the intensity of the orgasm subsided, I lay at first absolutely still. The hand on my cock stayed where it was. The only slight movement in my body was that of the fingers of my other hand paddling gently in the puddle on my stomach. There was indeed enough there to be the product of two bodies. I was already drifting into sleep. I did not have the energy to wipe myself clean. It would all come off in the shower in the morning, I told myself. I turned onto my side, with my hand still holding my cock, which was now soft and relaxed, and I felt my thick cum flowing slowly down my stomach onto the sheet as I descended quickly into a deep sleep.