He was strong. All of these guys were so strong. I mean, I was a bodybuilder myself, but some of these guys made me look small. I was working the tight muscles of his glutes and his calves, and I was trying not to think about it. But it was getting increasingly harder now that I could feel my own cock straining in my pants.
I told him to roll over so I could work on his front. I realized I may have cut the time short working his back, but maybe I was imagining things. I wondered if this guy was going to be expecting the same things that Vincent had. Part of me was dreading being put in that position again, but part of me wanted to see what was underneath him when he turned over.
I turned my back as he flipped over. I went to the table to get some more lotion but I really wanted to make sure he didn’t see me looking at him. I was trying to remain professional as I prepared to work the front of him. I had to go under the assumption that this guy wanted nothing more than the standard sport massage.
I turned back to work on him and saw that he was now on his back. He made no effort to cover his naked body with the sheet so that was my first sign of what he was expecting. My second sign of what he needed was bobbing over his stomach like a third hand waving me towards him. It was big and black and hard and I wanted to touch it as soon as I saw it.
He was looking at me as I studied it. He started to smile because he knew the kinds of thoughts that were going through my head. It didn’t matter to me at that point because all I wanted was to feel that black cock in my hand. I walked toward the table with my hand reaching out to grasp it.
It hadn’t always been like this. I used to never think about guys like this – ever. I didn’t think like this until I came down here to get away. I thought about the road that had brought me here as I felt my hand wrap around his stiffness...