It All Started With a Massage by Jeymar
Dive into “It All Started With a Massage” by Jeymar, a steamy gay tale that ignites passion and desire. Follow the unexpected journey of connection and seduction as a simple massage transforms into an unforgettable encounter. Get ready for a thrilling exploration of intimacy and attraction that you won’t want to miss!
Bad sexual education can lead to deplorable blockage in relations
It All Started With A Massage
By Jeymar
The difference between the sexes
In the spring of 1958, my father hit an electric post as we went to the weekend summer house. Only my mother was hurt. The post was on the right side of the road, the same side she was sitting in the car.
The back of the front fender got crushed in, pushing the interior wall against my mother’s ankle. She suffered a sprained ankle. The doctor prescribed much rest, abstaining from walking as much as possible, and resting in bed if possible.
My father got her some crutches and took care of the cooking for the weekend.
Back in our city house, my father asked me to stay home and care for her. I was only 16 years old and knew nothing about cooking. So, Mom got out of bed and instructed me on how to prepare lunch, and thankfully, she kept things simple. Once we had eaten, she went back to bed.
That had me locked in the house for the whole week. I was doing whatever I could to distract myself, not being used to cooping up like this.
One day, in the middle of the week, she asked me to check the ankle bandage to see if it was still ok. After a brief examination, I told her that, yes, it was just perfect.
I was surprised when she asked me to stay with her for a while. She had always been an active woman, and having to be in bed was depressing for her.
I was fidgeting, standing up in her bedroom. She told me I could sit on the bed or lay beside her if I didn’t mind.
I did and finally laid down, but just on the edge of the bed after a moment. I finally dozed off. I woke up cuddled in Mom’s arms. She was rubbing my back, and our faces were almost embracing. I felt this wasn’t normal and pulled myself up and went into the kitchen.
My mind was telling me that her actions were not typical. But deep inside, even to this day, I thought she wanted something from me, but what?
I was a shy boy, not attractive, so I had never been with a girl, and my acne face was not enticing the girls ever to consider me a potential close friend, not even one at all.
When my mother finally recovered, she offered me a book on sexuality one day. A doctor had written that he was professing retarded sexuality between a man and a woman. But mind you, these concepts were well-lived by the population, at least by my mother.
She told me she had read the book and that it would help me to read it. The doctor was teaching notions that were archaic and would be frowned upon by most people today.
The book thought that women did not get pleasure from sexual relations. Their satisfaction would come when they got pregnant and gave birth. Feeding the baby would bring the woman even more fun. Many in those years accepted that notion.
I’ll spare you all the details, but let’s say that was the basis of my sexual education. My father would have never talked to me about this subject, and I wasn’t inclined to inquire about it either.
So, I had a lot to learn. The first time I had sex with a woman, she had to stop me from squeezing her too hard or pinching her nipples. Finally, she guided my cock to her vagina. Now, we were listening on the radio to the Stanley Cup finals between the Canadiens and the Bruins, and she screamed with joy when Béliveau scored the cup-winning goal. I thought I had made her cum, before I realized it was because of the game.
You can see how inadequately educated I was. I had much to learn and would with my first girlfriend, who became my wife. She had to teach me everything, and I mean everything. I told her what I had learned from the book. She looked at me wide-eyed and asked what century I was from.
Following her instructions, my sex life became much more fun than playing hockey. I became insatiable, and four children issued from our sex-making. The first three were girls, as if nature wanted to teach me to be gentle and affectionate with the female species. The last one was a boy.
I was now addicted to sexual activity. We both ended up cheating on each other until we divorced. Finally, I was free to play the field. My eldest best friend, the same age, commented that she was attracted to me. Thank God nothing came out of it. Not from a lack of interest in experimenting.
After I was released from my job at the end of the contract, I was working in. I met a woman in a bar, and we hit it off quickly. It lasted five years. That’s when my life started to take a turn for the worse. I began driving girls for an escort agency.
I made perfect money. The agency charged $125 for each call: $75 went to the escort, $25 to me, the driver, and $25 to the agency. If you add that, we were three drivers plus an extra on weekends. The agency was making a killing. But, like all business people, the boss got hungry, and seeing that some agencies had cut their prices, he did the same, cutting the escort to $70.
When the girls started complaining, I made my move. I picked the most attractive girls and placed an ad for $250 an hour in the newspaper. Many customers were complaining that the other agencies were much cheaper. So, I told them to go there if they weren’t looking for stand-up models and the best quality escorts.
Within a month, I had four cars on the road with four escorts in each vehicle, and we always rushed for every call. I paid the girls $100 and the drivers $50 per call. Which left me with $100 per call, plus the additional $50 I made with the four girls I was driving myself.
Now, I ask you. Do you think I had the respect of the girls working for me?
Where did I fail? You are probably asking yourself.
There was much competition within my staff regarding my favorite. I could have any of the 16 girls in my agency at the lift of a finger.
One day, one of my competitors approached me to see if we could join. At the time, the newspaper would always list the agencies alphabetically. Her agency’s name started with the letters AAA… I can’t remember the rest of it. She was 21. She told me why she was in this business when I asked her. She told me a morality Sargent had raped her at the age of 16 in a popular park in our city. So, she decided to exploit her body and save all the money she earned from the trade; her name was Sonia. So, we joined forces. At that time, she only had three girls working for her; after I interviewed them and told them the money they’d make, they joined my team. It wasn’t easy for them to have to strip before the two of us. No agency did that. Hence the poor quality of some of them. We asked all the girls if they had a friend who would qualify for our business. It didn’t take long before Sonia’s car was complete, and she didn’t have to work anymore, except for driving the girls around.