A gay story: I Start Giving Massages Pt. 03
A while later, John came back. He left me his final cherry and became a true faggot, surrendering to me as I took him doggie style. He complained about the pain even though I was being considerate and using lube. However, he did admit that it was worth it. This time, he was able to come repeatedly in my mouth. Afterward, he mentioned trying out other masseurs in the area, and I made a mental note to ensure I used condoms with him in the future. I never saw him again, but I hoped he found happiness with other partners.
As the months went by, I noticed a pattern emerging: nervous straight men would enter my door and leave as gay men two hours later. It seemed unlikely that they would be able to satisfy a woman again or enjoy any sexual activity with women. They had been transformed, and only men would be able to fulfill their desires.
I made changes to my website, clarifying that anyone curious about being with a man or questioning their sexuality was welcome. I also made it clear that clients were allowed to touch any part of my body during the massage. I found myself drawn to the straight men, as they were more of a challenge and more interesting to me than the occasional effeminate gay man. If they resisted me, I would suggest trying a finger up their backside. Most men were intrigued and agreed to give it a try. Their reactions were always one of astonishment, excitement, and delight as I used one and then two fingers on them. And for some reason, no one ever refused a hand job.
If I felt a connection with a client, I would offer to share a post-massage shower. The first time I did this, I gently held my arms around the older, slim man — who claimed to be seventy but looked much younger — as we washed each other’s intimate parts with flannels. As the water cascaded down, I heard him start to sob. I held him close, kissing his neck and feeling a sense of genuine helping others with their innermost desires and anxieties. I was becoming more than just a sexual partner; I was a body therapist, providing comfort and affection to men who were vulnerable and in need of the touch that only a man could give. Afterward, he gave me a lingering tongue kiss and surprised me by bending down to give me a blowjob.
Realizing the impact I was having on the lives of these men, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of purpose and fulfillment. Some of them hadn’t had any sexual contact for years, and I was able to give them that connection and acceptance they were longing for.
I began to do weights in the spare room three times a week, and to eat more healthily. After all, besides looking good, I needed to build up strength for these strenuous massages. My sex life consisted solely of my clients. I started getting checked regularly for STDs.
I would sometimes masturbate thinking of all the formerly straight men who because of me were now gay, going about their lives in a new, revitalised, and hopefully happier way. Only the healing touch of a man’s hands, and being able to touch back, and ideally even more, really helps some damaged men. Like me, some were hurt by the jeers of entitled women when they shyly tried to get a date, while others had probably been gay all their lives without realising it.
One day, by which time I was charging a healthy rate for my services, and often getting good tips, a client on his second visit asked, when we were finished, an interesting question.
“I rather like the idea of a threesome. Do you think that could be arranged?”
I was rather taken aback by Victor. He had shown in the session that he could be quite dominant, as well as a quick learner in comparison to his first visit, when he had told me that he’d never had gay sex. This may have been an exaggeration. He was short, in his forties, living by himself, and not bad looking. And very cocky.
I immediately replied “That’s a four-hands massage. Tom, another masseur in this city, offers that.”
“Yes, I know”, Victor replied, “and it was quite nice when I went there last week.” I mentally made another note to add him to the list of clients for whom condoms would be mandatory. “But it felt weird, as I was with two experienced men. I expected a lot. Only one of them fucked me, and he wouldn’t suck me, or allow me to suck him. I was pissed off, to be frank.”
Wow, Victor had really changed in a short time. He had certainly seemed a confident man when I first met him. You need that, he told me, to perform his job as a bond dealer in the City of London. He had also seemed quite straight. He didn’t sound very straight now.
“What did you have in mind”, I asked.
“You, me and another newish client of yours. I’d like to watch you with him, and you watching both of us, and the three of us clinging onto each other… and all the stuff you see in the porno films.”
My cock twitched. Yes, that certainly sounded good. I pondered. How would I raise the question with another client? I talked a bit more with Victor, and although masseurs aren’t supposed to contact their clients he gave me permission to do so if I could find a third man. I wondered how it would work with Victor hardly being the typical submissive, raw and new as he was. I pondered the problem. Although I regarded myself as relatively submissive I was probably going to be a dom, a top, with two more or less straight men. We definitely needed a submissive to make up the set of three if Victor was going to be included.
By chance, only a week later I came across a suitable candidate in Cedric.
He was a rather overweight man, in his fifties, not bad looking — and terrified. He told me that he was an accountant. He muttered, fear in his eyes, that he was straight (with no sexual life) but wondered if intimacy with a man was going to be exciting for him. I noticed the wedding band at once. As usual I turned him — rather easily, as it happened — so he was won over to seeing men as sexual partners by the end of the session. He was clearly excited by our time together, so I made my move after we had showered together.
“Look, this is the last massage I’m giving today. I’m going to have a cup of tea, do you want to join me. I have a suggestion that might interest you.”
We talked, and I carefully steered the conversation around to the fantasy of three men in a room. His eyes lit up.
“That sounds exciting”, said Cedric. “Perhaps sensory overload, but it would be interesting to try it. I’d love to be groped and made into a bitch for two other men.” He blushed as he said his piece.
“It’s a dream for you, then”, I asked.
“Sure, a lovely fantasy.”
“Tell you what, would you like to make the fantasy real?” I explained the scheme. He would be the submissive, as would, to a large extent, would be me, together with someone who was new to gay sex yet was dominant. Cedric’s eyes sparkled, and he said that so long as he could come up with a suitable excuse for his wife he was excited by the idea. He too agreed to be contacted.
One reason I chose Cedric was that he had a massive, thick cock, though it wasn’t very long. He was clearly a natural submissive.