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It was on my fifth day of work Ally informed me someone would be coming in at 2pm for a hot-oil massage. Not only that, but he wanted the ‘Deluxe’ package too.
“What’s the ‘Deluxe’ package?” I asked while wiping my sperm and semen off the floor of Ally’s office. I’d only heard of package numbers ‘one’ and ‘two.’
He came out of the uniform room and handed me a jockstrap. As I slid the tight-fitting jock up my legs Ally explained, “It’s really a ‘number two’ but you’ll also go into the shower with the client and wash the oil off him yourself, and if need be, you’ll provide the same finish as you did with the actual massage.”
I reached for the yellow gym shorts but Ally said, “Wait a minute, I haven’t inspected you yet!”
“Sure you did – right before you, uh…” I stopped short of saying ‘right before you tongue-fucked my asshole and jerked me off’…I saw the look in his eyes and decided it was better just to go along with him.
I locked my hands behind my head, and spread my legs wider. His hands wandered all over my body checking for any unwanted hair. Finally, he cupped the bulge of my jock in his hand and gently squeezed. He held my equipment longer than usual. I had just climaxed, otherwise his hands would have given me another hard-on.
When he smiled and backed away, I noticed his excitement ‘tenting-out’ the crotch of his slacks. It was the first time I wondered how he ‘relieved’ himself…does he masturbate when I leave the room, or does he summon one of the other Towel Boys to finish him with either their hands or their mouths?
“This man is an athlete – a high-profile client – discretion is of the up-most importance!” he said. “Your donation has been included in the massage – and I assure you, it is quite generous.”
It would be only my second hot-oil massage, but I was looking forward to it. Oh my goodness, a hunky athlete? I can’t wait to run my hands over his body!
I had given one oil massage, and nine standard massages, seven of them to hunky construction-type guys, and three to flabby older men, and I have to admit, I really enjoyed running my hands over their bodies, kneading and squeezing their naked flesh.
Naturally, with my luck, it had been the older men who’d ‘donated’ enough to finish in my mouth. I would have loved to have taken the younger guys between my lips and ‘rocked-their-world’ but rules are rules.
“One final word,” said Ally after I pulled the tiny tee shirt over my head. “The man will say some crude things to you – he is somewhat of a racist…for instance, he never even looks at the photographs of the Towel Boys…he simply says ‘Give me the smallest white boy you have’…he won’t hurt you – simply go along with him – you know, ‘Yes, sir’ – ‘No, sir’, and everything will be fine!”
“Yes, sir!” I said sharply, and saluted Ally.
“Very funny,” he deadpanned. “Remember: like with all the clients – no talking to anyone about what goes on in the massage room…I know you ‘gals’ like to gossip about your men, but don’t – at least don’t mention names!”
As I left the room, I smiled about his comment ‘…I know you gals like to gossip about your men.’
That is so true. I’ve heard most of the Towel Boys gossip about their work days, and they mostly complain about the kind of men they ‘had’ that day. According to them, men are fat and hairy pigs with no manners.
“This guy was sooo fat it took me twenty-minutes just to find his dick!” – “Well, my guy’s dick was twice as thick as it was long and when he came he squealed in such a high-pitched voice he sounded just like my mother!” – “Oh that’s nothing – I had a guy once actually scream M-O-M-M-Y when he came – it creeped me out – I wondered ‘what in hell happened in his house when he was growing up?’ YUCK!”
I laugh listening to their obvious embellishments – they’re all such drama queens!
So at 1:40 I went about the task of heating the oil to the proper temperature, and waited in the room wearing only my jockstrap (standard procedure, hot-oil massages can get rather messy and the oil will permanently stain the yellow gym shorts).
My photographs had been posted on the fitness centers website just this morning so I checked them out on my iphone while I waited.
The pictures made me both laugh, and cringe. I was nude in three of them, and the others didn’t leave much to the imagination either.
Two regular shots of me standing with hands on hips wearing the yellow gym shorts (front and rear); two more wearing just the jockstrap (I was pleased with how my ‘package’ and bare-butt looked in the photos); one nude was taken as I climbed out of the pool soaking wet (kind of sexy); the other two showed me with an erection – one a side angle, the other directly from the front – I had cradled my balls in one hand and presented them to the camera while a finger on the other hand pointed at my hard-on with a sly smile, and come-hither look on my face.
The cheesy photos were kind of embarrassing, but I did feel an odd sense of satisfaction, too. I stared at my istanbul escort brazen, nude pose a long time, and wondered if this was the photo that my hot-oil client saw to make him choose me.
My 2 o’clock didn’t enter the room until 2:15. I had begun to wonder if he’d canceled, but I was sure Ally would have told me, if that were the case.
When the door finally opened, I stared at the biggest black man I’d ever seen. He had to have been 6′ 8″ and at least 280 pounds. The sheer size of him made my hands begin to tremble. The standard issue towel wrapped around his waist looked more like a washcloth.
He looked me up-and-down without a trace of a smile and said, “Lose the jock – I like my white boys naked when they serve me!”
I quickly said, “Yes, sir!” and complied with his command.
He stood close before me, dropped a hand to my crotch and said, “Spread’em, white boy!”
I said, “Yes, sir,” and did as I was told.
His massive paw-of-a-hand claimed hold of my ‘package.’
He said, again without smiling, “I hope you’re a fagboy who likes to bend over for the men – this tiny thing you got here is pitiful – no woman in the world would want something this small between her legs!”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I simply stood there and watched as he went to the table and adjust the legs.
I thought, he has obviously been here before.
He opened the legs of the table wide, ripped the towel off, threw it on the floor, then lay face down and said, “Get to work, white boy, I’m paying alot money so you better be good at this!”
“Y-Yes, sir,” I said now feeling vulnerable and very nervous.
He wanted me to stand between his legs. I preferred this way; it is easier to give a massage than to stand off to one side, and this man was so large, his body spilled over both sides of the table.
I dipped my hands in the oil and began on his powerful shoulders.
“Harder, white boy – you ain’t gonna hurt me!” he barked.
“Yes, sir,” I replied and massaged his firm, black flesh with more force.
His shoulders, his back, his huge biceps – I couldn’t believe the shape this man was in…I guessed he probably had only about eight percent body fat. Billy’s manner of teaching was very thorough – right down to the importance of knowing every muscle, joint and bone in the human body, and how they should be massaged.
I spent a long time on his shoulders, back and muscled arms.
He finally said, “Work on my butt now – my hammy acts up from time to time!”
“Yes, sir!” I replied.
His huge butt and powerful thighs were at my fingertips. I dipped my hands in the oil and vigorously massaged his torso until the flesh was glistening with oil.
“You want to kiss my black ass, don’t you white boy?” he asked.
Oh my goodness, his question made me swoon…I decided to take a totally different approach.
“Yes, Master, I would love to kiss your beautiful black ass, Master!” I gasped.
I heard him laugh for the first time. He was pleased with my answer.
“Ask your Master nicely, white boy!” he said.
“May I please kiss and lick your beautiful black ass, Master?” I asked breathlessly.
“Get to it, boy!”he said.
“Yes, Master,” I replied and lowered my face until I was giving his buttocks open mouthed kisses; I lapped at the oil covering his butt.
He chuckled at my eagerness and said loudly, “Kiss my black ass, white boy!”
“Yes, Master – gladly, Master!” I said.
My hands worked his thighs and legs while my lips and tongue never left the firm flesh of his ass.
He began to turn on the table and said, “All right, white boy – time to work on this side!”
“Yes, Master!” I said eagerly.
As he was turning onto his back I caught the first glimpse of his hard, black penis – OH-MY-GOODNESS – WHAT THE HECK IS THAT THING? THAT CAN’T BE REAL, CAN IT?
I dipped my hands in the oil and proceeded to massage his upper chest, shoulders and arms. I tried to maintain my composure, but I couldn’t look away from his massive erection.
He had locked his hands behind his head and noticed my gaze.
He laughed and said, “Yeah, pretty white fagboys like you love big black cocks, don’t you, boy?”
I almost choked and in a dream-like state replied, “Oh Master – YES – it’s sooo big – how can women fit that thing inside them?”
He chuckled, and said, “It ain’t easy – but they do it and once I fuck’em they always come back for more!”
I had been afraid to really look at his face but when I stared into his eyes, a flicker of recognition passed thru my body.
Oh my goodness – this is Jarvis Anthony – the defensive end on the local NFL team – I’m massaging a star professional football player!
“Yeah, I know you love my cock, boy, but go ahead and massage my balls first…you want to feel my balls, don’t you white boy?” he said playfully.
“Ohhh, yes, Master – please let me feel your balls – pleeeezzzzzzzz…”
“Get to it, boy!” he commanded.
“Yes, Master beşiktaş escort – thank you, Master!” I said to his smiling face.
I hadn’t looked at his scrotum, it had been hanging below the table, but when my hands found his balls I gasped out loud. His balls felt the size of large oranges…it definitely took both my hands to massage his heavy and huge balls.
They seemed to swell even larger under my touch. My own prick began to respond. The pressure in my balls increased as I lovingly caressed and fondled his gigantic eggs and scrotum.
Since he was pleased with my calling him ‘Master’ and hearing me beg to touch him, I decided to be more pro-active.
“Master, may I please kiss and lick your big black balls?” I said with a sigh, “…pleeezzzzz…”
“Yes, white boy, kiss my black balls!” he said in a throaty voice.
I could tell he was getting caught up in the excitement, too.
“Thank you, Master!” I blurted out.
I momentarily wondered how I was going to accomplish the task. I needed both hands to hold up his scrotum. I lowered my face and kissed and licked at the salty flesh of his scrotum. I licked his balls, reveling in their size and shape.
I opened my mouth as wide as possible and tried to take one between my lips…not a chance – they were way too big…I contented myself by profusely kissing and licking each ball until he tired of it.
“Massage my big, black cock, white boy – get your tiny hands on my cock NOW!” the urgency in his voice startled me.
I knew I had him excited; it seemed he was ready for me to finish him off in my mouth. The nagging question was ‘How am I going to do that – I’ll never be able to fit his gigantic cockhead inside my mouth.’
I oiled my hands and firmly gripped his shaft and worked my hands up and down. I could not close my hands around his thickness. His cock reminded me of a log of firewood we used to burn in the fireplace of the house I grew up in.
More oil on his cock…his hips began moving imperceptibly.
I took the initiative and said, “Master, please let me kiss and lick your beautiful black cock – I love your cock, Master – please let me kiss it!”
This time his voice sounded strained. I knew he was loving everything I did and said.
“Do it, white boy – lick my big black cock!”
“Thank you, Master!”
My tongue began at the base of his shaft and worked its way upward. I traced the prominent veins – I licked the sensitive underside of his prick and drew a groan of delight from his slightly parted lips.
My tongue was thickly coated with the coconut-flavored massage oil. I breathed heavily thru my nose while my tongue never left his big cock. His hips began grinding on the table – thrusting upwards. His balls were ready to explode.
I frantically stroked him with both hands as I planted my lips around his cock-slit. I teased the slit with my tongue. My hands frigged him faster and harder. I would have loved to feel his balls expanding in my hand but I needed both of them to hold onto his massive cock.
His body suddenly stiffened then all heck broke loose and he screamed out, “HERE IT COMES WHITE BOY – SUCK THAT BLACK COCK – SUCK IT – SUCK IT…”
I was able to take the first couple loads directly in my mouth – my tongue lapping at his slit as I gulped down the thick deluge.
He thrashed about so much his cockhead spurted a couple loads on my face before I was able to get my tongue on the slit again.
I lost track of the number of times his body convulsed and squirted cum in my mouth, but it was far more than Billy ever had.
By the time he came to rest, I dare say all I had to do was merely touch my prick and I would have climaxed too, but refrained from pleasuring myself.
While he labored at his breathing, my lips and tongue were busy lapping up the sperm and semen that had escaped my mouth. Because of the coconut oil, I couldn’t really say whether I liked the taste of his cum or not.
I was still holding his deflated penis when he said, “That was damn good, boy – maybe the best ever!”
“Thank you, Master!” I said sincerely.
He smiled and said, “Looks like you liked it too, white boy!”
His eyes were fixed on my erection. My breath caught in my throat when I said, “Master, I LOVED making you cum!”
“Go ahead, boy – finish it off – make yourself cum!” he commanded.
He interrupted me, “I said do it, boy, but here’s what I want to see – you’re going to oil-up your middle finger and stick it in your ass – I want to watch you finger-fuck yourself while you jerk-off – got it, white boy?”
I stammered, “I, uh, n-never have d-done that–-“
“I said do it, boy – DO IT NOW!” he shouted.
I dipped my finger in the bowl and made sure it was thoroughly coated with oil. I didn’t want to anger him – I had no idea what he was capable of doing to me.
My finger beylikdüzü escort found my anus and gently rubbed oil on it. I coated my finger again and placed it at my entrance.
“Quit wasting time, boy – finger-fuck yourself and jerk-off for me – DO IT NOW, BOY OR ELSE!!”
I closed my eyes and rammed the finger all the way inside me. My other fingers were flat on my asscheeks. I took hold of my hard prick and began stroking it.
My timing was a bit off. Having never done this before it took me about twenty-seconds before I was able to synchronize the hand stroking my prick with the finger I was pushing in-and-out of my virgin asshole.
“Look me in the eyes, boy!” he commanded.
“Yes, Master,” I said and stared into his dark, brown eyes.
A thin smile formed on his thick, full lips.
“Who’s your black Master, boy?” he asked softly.
My eyes were locked into his. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
I shivered then said, “You are my black Master – I am your white slave boy!”
A full grin broke out on his handsome, charcoal-colored face.
“Don’t you ever forget it, boy – faster – go faster – squirt your load on my belly, boy – show your black Master how much jizz is in your puny white balls!”
“Yes, Master…oh God…almost there, Master…”
My hand became a blur on my throbbing prick. I rammed the finger in-and-out of my asshole with no regard for comfort, or pride.
“I want to hear you shout it out loud, boy!” he raised his voice.
“Yes, Master…ohhhh, Master…oh God – oh God – oh God – oh God…OHHHHHHHHH-GODDDD – I’M CUMMING, MASTER – I’M CUMMING, MASTER-OH-GOD-OH-GOD-IMCUMMINGMASTERIMCUMMINGMASTERIMCUMMINGMASTERIMCUMMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG…”
Stars were dancing before my eyes. I gulped air as quickly as I could.
“Not bad for a little white boy,” he said, pointing to the pools of sperm and semen on his belly. “Lick it all up now, boy, then we’ll hit the shower!”
“Yes, Master,” I said and obeyed his command.
On the way to the shower, I was so dizzy I almost fell but he caught me with those powerful arms. I noticed his huge cock was almost hard again.
It took great effort to soap his entire body and wash the oil from his flesh. My head was spinning in a daze of lust and confusion. I had never permitted any man that much power and control over me, and even though I was just playing a role, I had somehow allowed him inside my mind.
I loved running the bar soap and washcloth over his massive frame. I couldn’t begin to imagine how offensive linemen he played against could remotely stand a fighting chance against this behemoth of a giant man. I imagined he inflicted great pain on his opponents.
When I held his hard cock and applied soap to it, he said, “Get on your knees, white boy!”
Without thinking I blurted out, “Yes, my black Master!”
He had me soap his thighs and legs then he lifted his scrotum, and I lovingly kissed his balls then cleaned him.
“You can wait washing my cock until you suck me off again, my little white slave boy!” he said looking down at me.
“Yes, my black Master!” I replied, and immediately obeyed his order.
In this position, I was able to massage his over-size scrotum as my hand masturbated his shaft, and my lips and tongue titillated his cockhead.
This time when he cried out, I was ready for his load. He gave me five more mouthfuls to swallow. This time I could taste it – I was surprised by its sweetness – I had thought a man his size wouldn’t taste very good…I was wrong.
It took me close to an hour to clean the shower and massage room. Being a Towel Boy isn’t all fun and glamorous, ha-ha-ha…
I slipped back into my uniform and was walking to join the other Towel Boys to resume work when Ally approached me and gave me a note that simply read ‘200.’
“What’s this for?” I asked.
“Your 2 o’clock was so impressed he wanted to add to his donation. This will be on your next check – consider it a bonus for a job well done…you must be pretty good – he’s never done this before!”
I smiled and said, “Oh, I do what I can.”
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but one of my responsibilities is to ensure you boys have the talent and training to provide our guests with first rate service…I want you to come to my office so I can personally attest to your knowledge and skill,” he said.
I smiled and said, “You want me on my knees, right?”
He smiled back and said, “Precisely – and naked, too!”
“Considering what you do for me every day, I think it’s the least I can do for you!” I said.
Ally’s cum tasted like I thought it would – not awful, but rather tart.
Two-days later I received quite a jolt when I brought towels into the guests locker room only to run squarely into my old boss, Earl. The snarky grin on his face as he looked me up and down sort of creeped me out.
“My, my – look at you!” he said almost drooling as he stared hard at my tiny shorts and exposed belly below the too-short tee shirt. “I heard one of the guys at work say you had taken a job at a fitness center…I just didn’t know which one.”
I simply replied, “Yes, sir.”
He continued, “This is my lucky day – imagine finding you working here in one of the ‘queer’ fitness centers!”
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