Massage Boy Comes Through!

After spending an hour and a half in Starbucks in New Hope waiting for Massage boy twice, when he told me he hoped we could get together, I said, "Sure. Give me your address and I'll be there Friday night."

Now, I much prefer to go the Starbucks route. It leaves either party the option of gracefully bowing out if in person it seems that things are not gonna work out. (As Lolita famously put it, "The internet doesn't mean anything. You gotta smell'em.") But enough is enough! I wanted my massage.

Sooooo... I rolled up outside Massage Boy's Village II digs, knocked on the door of his condo, and made it happen. A nice guy, he looked like the pic that he sent me, seemed pleasant enough.

But, I had no time for pleasantries. I wanted my massage!

I stripped and was stretched out on massage boy's bed within three minutes after I arrived.

Massage Boy got to work. He has no formal training, but did a good job. Alas, he neglected my scalp, my face, and my feet. When I give a massage, I always hit the scalp and the scalp, face, and feet. They rock. It feels wonderful to be touched there. Next time, I'd also make the suggestion that Massage Boy get some aromatherapy candles or something. But his Aveda massage oil did the trick.

When I had exhausted Massage Boy (I have no idea how long he was at it, as I was pleasantly drifting in and out of consciousness), Massage Boy revealed his Hidden Agenda: having sex with me! I was up for that. Although, I was still very much in 'getting-a-massage-mode,' so sex was all about touching and stroking and holding. To be more specific, Massage Boy touching, stroking,and holding me.

Yeah, last night I was a selfish lover. Do me, Massage Boy! Make me feel good! It was all about service, as in (for a change), me being serviced.

When I started to feel a little bit tired and decided it was time to head home, I figured out how to get Massage Boy off (biting his nipple and working his dick did it), shot my own load, and hit the road.

I mean, I almost feel like I should have paid for that... There was no give and take with Massage Boy. It was all about him giving and me taking. Like having sex with your slave. Haven't yet called Massage Boy, but I sure will. I want to thank him, and also want to make sure that he enjoyed his night as a service bottom. And... y'know... that he'd be up for it again. Like, maybe three or four times a week. Only with aromatherapy candles.

I am such a pig.

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