The feeling was so foreign to the emo that he didn’t quite know how to respond. He made a noise, but it wasn’t words.
The mechanic moved up to Yoshi’s left thigh. His forceful digits traced tracks up the back and inside of the emo’s legs. The mechanic approached the emo’s groin teasingly before abruptly stopping to move across to the right thigh.
Without meaning to, Yoshi drooled a thick string of spit that landed on Mack’s floor with a splat. This experience felt unbelievable, and it had only just started. He moved the position of his pelvis on the massage table. Inside his frilly panties, his cute cock was rock hard from the mechanic’s firm yet tender touch, and he struggled to resist the urge to fuck the surface of the table.
“Gonna do your neck, shoulders and back now,” reported the mechanic. He oozed some more sunflower oil into his hands. He stood above Yoshi’s head as he began massaging his shoulders.
“I can see your feet through the hole, big guy,” drooled the emo.
“I know,” smiled the mechanic.
“Full disclosure,” said the emo, making a superhuman effort to put his brain into gear. “I can’t wipe my mouth, but you’re making me drool pretty bad, so if you feel something wet splashland on your toes, it’s your fault, not mine.”
Mack laughed as his thumbs and the heels of his palms rubbed the sides and back of Yoshi’s neck. Slowly, he moved down to his shoulder blades. “Ow,” said the emo as the mechanic began massaging his right blade.
“You hold the mouse in your right hand, don’t you, punk?”
“Yeah,” came the whispered confession.
“I can tell. You’ve got a serious knot. I’ll go gentle, but let me know if it hurts too much and I’ll stop.”
Mack’s pressure and intensity was perfect. Yoshi felt discomfort, but it was good, therapeutic discomfort. His shoulder blade felt warm and loose.
After a few minutes, the mechanic began working on Yoshi’s lower back, teasing the top of his buttocks. He pushed his fingertips under the elastic of the emo’s frilly panties, lightly running them up and down the top of his crack. “Fuck, daddy,” Yoshi drooled, “you’re breaking my mind.”
“Roll over,” said Mack. “Time to do your front.”
The emo rolled onto his back, careful not to disturb the towel beneath him. He stared at the ceiling, and the first thing the mechanic saw was a very wet pair of panties, with a small yet firm tent pitched in the middle. The emo was relieved that his desperate urge to fuck the table had been taken out of play.
Mack poured some more oil into his fingers and began working on the front of Yoshi’s calves and thighs. As he felt the mechanic’s firm fingers massaging the flesh of his inner thighs, the sensation became too much. “Fuck, daddy,” breathed the emo, “I think I need to touch myself. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
The mechanic wasn’t about to let him cum just yet. He silently changed tack, turning his attention to Yoshi’s arms and hands. He worked on the emo’s left upper arm, elbow, and then lower arm, his hands delicately removing all the tension from his limb. He massaged the emo’s hand in the same way he worked on his feet — first the wrist, then the palm, then the fingers. He padded to the other side of the table to work on Yoshi’s right arm. He found a similar store of tension in his right wrist which he also associated with mouse use, though in the case of the wrist, tension could have stemmed from a range of other activities. “How’re you travelling, punk?” he asked, checking in with his client.
Yoshi nodded. His eyes were closed, his breathing was slow, his body felt like it was floating, and he wasn’t capable of coherent speech anymore.
“I’m gonna take care of your chest now,” announced Mack. This time, he poured oil directly onto the emo’s nipples, and Yoshi moaned as he felt the liquid drizzling down on him. A fresh patch of warm moisture appeared on the front of the emo’s panties.
The mechanic’s firm, heavy hands ran across Yoshi’s chest, tickling, teasing and pinching his painfully erect nipples. He gave the emo’s pierced nipple a light tug, and he heard Yoshi’s breathing change shape. “Fuck, daddy … fuck … I need to … oh my fucking god … you’re gonna …”
Mack knew the emo was close, and probably too far gone by now to hold himself back. He reached one hand down inside Yoshi’s panties and began tickling his pubic mound with his thick fingertips.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” screamed the emo. He arched his back as his thick load oozed through the fabric of his brand-new frilly underwear. “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned again, now feeling the mechanic’s oily-wet fingers slipping under the elastic and gripping his shaft between forefinger and thumb, coaxing the rest of his load out of him.
He felt the mechanic’s stringy ginger beard tickle his face half a second before he felt his lips. He opened his mouth to receive Mack’s tongue and they kissed.
Yoshi opened his eyes as if awakening from a trance.
“Was that good?” asked the mechanic.
“I’m dead, aren’t I?” came the reply. “That … was … fuck … I mean … like … I can’t …”
“It’s OK,” soothed Mack, placing a finger on the emo’s lips. “You don’t need to talk. I’m just gonna wash up; you just lie there for a few minutes.”
The emo felt like he was levitating. He’d never been touched like that before. He was used to the feeling of being pounded into submission, but this was next level. It was like the mechanic’s hands had coaxed an earth-shattering orgasm out of him without touching his pussy or his dick. It was so different to anything else he’d ever experienced.
He took half a dozen deep, satisfied lungfuls of air and glanced around the room. He felt the itchy warmth of his nut pooling around the base of his dick as it stuck to his soiled panties. His whole naked body was glistening with sunflower oil, and his muscles and tendons felt more relaxed that he could ever remember.
“You OK, punk?” asked Mack, returning to the room. “Sorry, just needed to wash my hands. Was covered in oil and your cum.”
“I can’t lift my head up yet,” disclosed Yoshi, “because I think you turned my skeleton to jelly. I might be an invertebrate now. If I am, you’ll be hearing from my insurer.”
The mechanic laughed.
“No, but seriously, big guy, what the fuck did you just do to me?” Yoshi breathed. Complete sentences came slowly, requiring serious brainpower. He took his time, trying to find the words he wanted, but everything shattered into fragments again. “I mean … like … I’ve never …”
“Do you feel relaxed?” asked Mack, kneeling next to the massage table. Yoshi, still lying on his back, felt the mechanic’s breath wafting across his oily chest.
Yoshi’s eyes closed again. If this was what ‘relaxed’ felt like, he’d never felt it before. “I feel like … umm … I’m not sure … I feel like … yeah, I guess I do …”
“Good.” The mechanic stood behind the table and began to massage Yoshi’s head. With thick, firm fingers, he sculpted the emo’s skull like it was wet pottery. He applied pressure in all the right places, and an infinity of lightning storms erupted inside the emo’s overloaded brain.