"Ow!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Danvers, what number would that be?"

I thought about the scale the young lady had given me and replied, "About a 7." The pressure immediately backed off and I could relax on the table again.

"You are really, really tight, Mr. Danvers," Tanya said, her little arms carrying quite a wallop as she squeezed, poked and smoothed over my back and shoulder muscles. My chiropractor, Dr. Stout, had recommended massage therapy to help loosen my tense musculature so that she could adjust my neck and back more easily. This was my fourth session with Tanya, the deep tissue therapist that worked in Dr. Stout's office. Unfortunately for me, Tanya was only available about every three weeks and my schedule didn't allow for any other times at the chiropractor's for other therapists.

After our hour was up, Tanya left the room briefly so I could dress. She knocked and came in, concern all over her face as she dried her hands after washing them while I got dressed. "Mr. Danvers, you are so very, very tight still that I'd really like you to think about getting more therapy more often."

We'd been down this road before and I reiterated how I was unable to make the time with my work and when she was available. Tanya may have been a young woman, but she had an old soul, and, after looking at me thoughtfully, got one of her cards and wrote down a phone number. "Here, Mr. Danvers, I think you should call this number and see if Sean can help you."

"Sean?"

Tanya nodded. "Yeah, Sean is a good friend of mine that also does deep tissue massage therapy and prefers to work with his patients at their homes rather than in an office. I heard from him recently that he could take on new patients and I think you'll work out fine with him." I nodded, thanked her and headed out to my car, the card in my pocket as I headed home.

About a week later I was getting sore from my tight shoulder muscles and thought of the card Tanya had given me. I located the card and called the number, a pleasantly deep male voice answering. "This is Sean."

"Sean, I'm Mike Danvers. Tanya from Dr. Stout's office thought you might be able to help me out."

I heard a shuffling over the phone as if pages were turning and soon he said, "Ah, Mr. Danvers, I do have some notes that Tanya e-mailed me regarding her thoughts on your therapy. I see that I have three evenings open if any would suit you?" Evenings were perfect, I replied and we set up an appointment for Thursday evening at five pm. "It's best if you wait to eat dinner until after I'm done," Sean said, "that way your digestion isn't in the way of the therapy." I agreed and, after agreeing to his hourly rate and terms, gave him the address to my place. "I'll see you at five pm, Mr. Danvers." Since Thursday was tomorrow, I figured I'd better get the place ready.

Promptly at five the next day there was a knock on my door. I opened it and standing outside was a young guy in his late twenties or very early thirties, wearing a tight white t-shirt, black compression shorts and a pair of beat up sneakers. Beside him were a small duffle bag and a folding table, which I assumed was a massage table.

"Mr. Danvers? I'm Sean." He held out his hand and I shook it, his grip firm and masculine yet not the bone crushing 'have to prove I have balls' power of guys having to prove something. He released my hand and grabbed his stuff. "Let's pick a good place to do this." He entered my place and, after closing the door I followed him around until he declared that my spare room, my 'everything' room, would be excellent. "Nice subdued lighting, a lot of room to work in and even a small CD player. Great!" He set up his table with ease, dug around in the duffle bag to get out some plastic bottles of various oils and lotions, a CD that he dropped into my player and then, to my delight, removed his t-shirt to reveal his very nicely muscled and smooth upper body.

He had me get some towels out of my closet and, spreading a couple over the table, handed one to me. "OK, Mr. Danvers, you need to get yourself stripped down. When you are naked, lay face down on the table and put this towel over your butt." He stepped out of the room to let me get ready and I quickly stripped, partly because I didn't want to waste his time and partly because his full pecs and tight abs had caused 'Mr. Happy' to rear up to see what was so exciting. I was on the table; butt covered with my towel, when he announced that he was coming in and entered the room.

"Good, you're all set!" My face was in the hole in the table for that purpose, so I couldn't really see what he was doing, but I could hear him. "Glad to see you keep your body in great shape, Mr. Danvers, it helps me when I can see your muscles as well as feel them." His hands ran lightly over my body, squeezing here and there as he evaluated my condition.

He stopped and then moved down by my feet, running his hands over my thighs and calves with a bit more pressure, the oil warming up my legs as he lightly massaged my feet. That felt all kinds of good and I told him so, his little laugh telling me he knew how good it felt. "Part of massage therapy is to make the client fully relaxed," he said as he began long, slow strokes up and down my back, "it not only feels incredibly good but it also helps loosen up muscles that otherwise would take a lot of therapy to release." Sean started a light kneading across my back and shoulder muscles, the glow of good feeling and the warming oil helping me slip deeper into relaxation. So much so that I almost didn't notice when he removed the towel from my butt and, returning to the end of the table, began working my upper thighs and rhythmically squeezing my buttocks!

"Um, Sean," I said, "that feels good too, but I've never had a therapist do what you are doing."

He laughed again and continued kneading my buttocks. "These are muscles too, Mr. Danvers, and are all part of your body. Tight glutes, and yours are incredibly tight and hard, can also relate to back problems. Besides, I bet all your therapists were female, huh?"

I murmured an affirmative and he laughed again, his thumbs working their way between my legs towards my perineum. "Girls, as a rule, stay away from a guy's butt, partly because of their own hang-ups, but also because they are afraid the guy will interpret the work as a come on. Some guys will also not work guy butts because of macho hang-ups. I happen to not have those hang-ups, so I can give full service to guys as required."

Huh? I thought about what he said and then melted into an almost sexual delight as his strong thumbs began long, slow strokes down my perineum, starting almost at my asshole and ending just at the start of the loose skin of my ball sack. A few times Sean managed to lightly touch my balls and Mr. Happy responded according, but overall the massage was still very relaxing and oddly comforting. I guess a few more minutes went by before Sean placed a palm over my left buttock and lightly patted it. "Ok, turn over." Without thinking I did so, and Mr. Happy, in his full glory, swung around with me.

"I see the therapy is having some effect," mused Sean as he assured me that this was a normal reaction and not to be embarrassed. "Besides, I'm a guy also, right? Check out the action here." He pointed to his own crotch, where a long object stretch out the fabric of the compression shorts, twin lumps at one end of the object marking where his balls hid behind the tight lycra of the shorts and the other end straining to reach the waistband. "So don't worry about something like a hard on." He seemed to shrug it off and so I relaxed a bit more, feeling his strong hands go to my arms, working down each one until he reached my hands, where he treated them to the same massage as he had done to my feet. He returned to the foot of the table and lightly massaged my feet again, then worked up my legs to knead the thick muscles at my thighs, moving upwards until he came very close to my crotch. He didn't go there, instead skirted that area and moved up my chest, avoiding Mr. Happy adroitly as he massaged my abs carefully and then worked my pectorals. I had the distinct feeling that he enjoyed this part, for he worked them hard, squeezing and almost mauling them, his thumbs rubbing hard against my nipples until they stuck out from my chest like knobs. "Great pecs," he said, working up to my shoulders and then coming around to the head of the table.

What followed next was one of the best neck and head massages I'd ever had, his strong hands adjusting just the right amount of pressure all over my head and working my neck muscles sufficiently to release any remaining knots. I was so relaxed by this point that I felt like I was floating...at least until he got up on the table with me!

My first thought was that I could feel bare skin and his own hard cock against mine, so he must have pulled off his shoes and shorts somewhere during the massage and I'd not noticed. The second thought was why was he on top of me? My third thought was that cocks do not lie, this boy was gay and was turned on by my body as I was of his and the last thought that finally one was, oh fuck, it feels so very good...

Sean's muscular body fit over me like a warm blanket, his thick thighs pushing mine wider, his torso aligned with mine and his biceps thrust against mine as he clasped my hands with his. He slowly began moving his hips, his cock and balls sliding across mine, his foreskin (something I hadn't noticed until now) making the operation frictionless until our cockheads met briefly, our frenums firing off pleasure signals to our brains each time it happened. He had placed his head beside mine and was whispering in my ear, "Relax, just relax and let things happen..." Mr. Happy was enjoying this whole thing so much that he was liberally coating our bellies with precum, Sean's cock doing the same thing. Interestingly, instead of feeling alien and strange to be having frottage with my therapist, somehow this was all part of the therapy and I was so relaxed and comfortable that, when Sean's hands tightened on mine and his breathing quickened, my own orgasm began and we shot at the very same time, our seed mixing in the scant space between our bodies and lodging in my chest hair (remember that Sean was baby smooth). Sean's orgasm was like mine, we both tensed a bit and then like the heavens opening we just let it be; only attempting to prolong the echo by slowly humping our crotches against each other.

I think we dozed off, for it was very sticky when Sean finally got up from me and helped me off the table. "I think we should clean up and then have something to eat?" I agreed and we headed into the bathroom and showered together, something I had done with lovers and it just seemed natural to do so with Sean. Some of that post-orgasmic glow came as we soaped and rinsed each other off and then dried each other carefully before wrapping towels around our waists and going to the kitchen to prepare dinner. I was almost shocked to see that it was nearly ten, but was so sated and relaxed I just shrugged and worked with Sean to chop veggies and cook up a good meal. We had a glass of red wine apiece and then, when dinner was done and we'd cleaned up afterwards, Sean smiled at me and asked how I felt.

"Mr. Danvers, do you feel more relaxed?"

I nodded and then grinned back at him. "Sean, I think you should call me Mike, considering how close we've been during this session."

He laughed and said, "I'm glad you were so receptive, Mike. Some guys get very nervous and I can't complete their therapy because they are not ready for it." He shrugged and continued, "It's a bit of a loss for both of us, really, for I truly like helping guys get rid of their stress and tension."

"Do you do the same with your female clients?"

He laughed, slapped his hard belly and replied, "I don't have any female clients, Mike. I only like helping men and the only way I can do what I like is to do it privately." He grinned at me and said, "I also only take on a few male clients at a time, usually because I spend a lot of time with them."

Time. I thought about that and, Sean must have seen it on my face. "Mike, I'm not a call boy or hustler, so I don't charge for anything beyond a standard massage of one hour." I nodded and then, looking at his handsome face, his thick pecs and chiseled abs, said, "Are you up to helping me release more tension?"

Sean laughed and nodded. "Is there a particular area that is too tight?"

I nodded and we walked back to the 'everything' room, which now was christened my massage room. I removed my towel, got face down on the table and pointed to my asshole. "I'm thinking that you missed this really tight area right here, Sean. Would you have a therapy for that?"

I heard him laugh and then felt the warming oil being applied between my buttocks, an oiled finger slowly moving around my rosebud as strong thumbs began stroking my perineum. Soon I felt his weight as he spread my legs on the table, heard the application of a rubber and lubrication packet, and felt him enter as my massage therapist began his therapy of my 'too tight' asshole...