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DISCLAIMER: Don't read if you're under eighteen, or if the laws in your very repressive jurisdiction would suggest that you not read smutty stories such as this one.

I had called the massage place earlier in the day to make an appointment....the woman who answered (Bonnie) set me up for a one-hour session with Doris, at 2:30.
I arrived around 2:20, early for once. No one was sitting at the front desk; apparently, they were a bit understaffed today. A well-dressed man came out from the back, looking to pay and leave. He asked if I was there to see Doris; when I said yes, he told me "She's back there, in room 7 - why don't you just go back?"
I declined, making some lame excuse about waiting for a phone call, just as Doris came out from the back hallway. She was in her 50s, dumpy and pudgy, like you might expect from the name "Doris." She quickly rang up her previous customer - he paid with a credit card - and then took me back to room 7.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, which of course is massage parlor speak for "get butt naked and get on that table, towel over your ass." She left, closing the door behind her.
While removing my clothes, I glanced at the doorknob to see if it had a lock. Some of the rooms at this particular establishment do, some don't. I was dismayed to see that this was one of the rooms without a locking doorknob.
You see, massage is a somewhat sensual experience, and I'm always fairly turned on by the end of the hour. So, I normally "take matters into my own hands" and masturbate to orgasm after the therapist leaves the room.
The last time I had been at this place, my therapist (Cathy) came back in without warning and caught me - or came close enough, anyway. I'm still not sure quite what she saw before she backed out of the room, apologizing. I threw the small towel over my cock, which was gripped tightly in my right hand. In any case, she either explicitly saw what I was doing or figured it out easily.
So, I hadn't been back for about three months, and was pleased that Cathy was nowhere in sight. I doubted she would have told anyone else. Probably I'm not the only guy who does that after a massage, I reasoned.
Anyway, back to the present. After removing my clothes and stacking them neatly on the chair, I climbed on the table, face down, and arranged the small towel so it was covering my ass. After waiting a few minutes, I heard a tap-tap on the door.
"Come in," I called, expecting to see Doris. Instead, it was a different woman. Now, if this were a fantasy, instead of reality, she would have been 21, with long blonde hair and 36D tits.
However, this is a true story. This woman looked to be in her mid-40s, not exactly a looker but much easier on the eyes than Doris, that's for sure. Wavy frosted blonde hair, a little pudgy all over but not too bad.
She rested one hand on the small of my back. "Hi, honey. Are you just looking for general relaxation massage today?"
I said yes, and in particular I was having some lower back pain from moving a bunch of computers this week. "Okay, general relaxation with focus on lower back. Gotcha."
She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I wondered what that was all about - normally, therapists don't relay information to each other - the usual practice is for the therapist who'll be working on you to ask those questions herself.
Two minutes later, the door opened, and the same woman returned. She closed the door behind her, and asked me, "Do you prefer to be draped or undraped during a massage?"
The question startled me, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I had read on the Internet about "open-minded" therapists who would massage a client that was completely in the nude. However, I had never had the courage to ask a therapist to do so, for fear she would freak out and think I was a pervert.
All of my sexual activities at this massage parlor had been conducted by myself; I had never even seriously considered asking a therapist for a "helping hand." (The signs all over the place saying that "sessions will be terminated immediately if a client acts inappropriately" scared me, I suppose.)
Anyway, after the second time she asked the question, I answered "Um, undraped is fine, I suppose." After all, massage therapists usually uncover each ass cheek in turn anyway, so what was the big deal?
"Are you sure?" she asked. "If you're shy or something, that's OK."
"Nah," I responded, more confidently. "I've had enough massages that I'm fine with it."
She pulled the towel - my only covering - off my backside, and suddenly there I was, completely naked on the table. Oiling her hands, she began to rub in hard strokes over the small of my back.
"Do you just want a massage on your lower back, or everywhere?"
"Everywhere," I responded. "Okay," she said. "I just like to make sure, as sometimes people are uncomfortable when I touch their butt."
She started rubbing the oil into my buttocks, and it felt darn good. "I'm going to tell Doris that I'll take you, and she can take Paul," she said. Tossing the towel over my butt once more, she left the room.
She returned shortly, and removed the towel once again. "Oh - I should tell you sweetie, the credit card machine is broken."
"That's OK," I said. "I have cash today, though I wouldn't always." I wondered how the credit card machine had broken since the last customer used it, but put the thought quickly out of my head.
The therapist moved on to my legs, massaging in long strokes from my feet all the way up to my ass. She then started using her fingernails, dragging them lightly along my skin and drawing goosebumps over the entire lower half of my body.
"People carry a lot of tension in their butt," she said, dragging her nails across its surface. "I know a lot of people don't liked to be touched in certain places, but it can definitely help get you relaxed."
She repeated the same process on my back, neck, and arms, scratching the surface lightly with her finger nails, then massaging over the same areas with long strokes. I felt my cock throbbing; the feel of her nails across my skin was definitely increasing my circulation!!
"Do you want your inner thighs done?" she asked.
What was I going to do, say no? "Sure," I said, trying - and failing - to sound nonchalant. I was getting pretty turned on, and for the first time I was starting to wonder if this was going to be more than a standard massage.
"Spread your legs a little for me sweetie," she asked, and I complied. She re-oiled her hands and moved her fingers onto the inside of my left thigh, pushing in long strokes from the top down. On the downstrokes, her fingers brushed my balls, and I nearly jumped.
"Again, a lot of people don't like to be touched here," she said, "but it really does relieve a lot of stress."
I murmured my assent, even though my stress level was currently rising, not falling. "I didn't even realize I was sore there," I said, trying to sound coherent.
When she started using her fingernails again, this time on my inner thighs, I did jump, slightly. "Sorry, sweetie," she said, and we both laughed. Just then, the phone rang, and she moved to answer it.
I laid there in silence, trying to relax my breathing, while she made an appointment for a client. After she hung up, I said, "You guys must be shorthanded today."
"We are," she said, "and I apologize for having to answer the phone. I'll make it up to you baby, I promise."
As I pondered the meaning of that last statement, she moved over to my right thigh, again raising goosebumps and causing me to tighten my ass cheeks.
"Are you ready to turn over now?" she asked. "Do you need to be draped?"
Well, I figured, if I asked to be draped now, I probably wouldn't get to see where this was leading, and I had some pressing needs clouding my judgment. "No," I said, turning over, my stiff cock in plain view.
"So, you need lots of relaxation, huh? Are you okay with being touched everywhere?" she asked. My eyes were closed, mostly from embarrassment, but I could tell she was smiling.
"Oh, definitely," I said.
"I always like to ask, make sure that clients are OK with everything," she said.
"I'll be honest, this is the first time I've ever had an undraped massage," I said. "I wasn't ever sure if I could ask for one before - I didn't want to be kicked out."
She began massaging the fronts of my thighs, the palms of her hands deliberately tracing across the shaft of my cock.
"I take good care of my customers," she said, continuing what she was doing. It was more than incidental contact, but only a little more. "I know a lot of people need...relaxation, and I'm happy to do that for them."
"All I ask is for a small tip in return," she said, "because we don't get much from the fees here - only 5%."
Ah, here was the rub - pun intended. I had no way of knowing whether or not what she said was true, and was beyond caring. "Oh sure, everyone has to make a living," I said, agreeing with her.
"But I certainly don't mind taking care of your needs; you just come in and ask for me anytime."
"I will - by the way, what is your name?" I asked.
"Bonnie," she said, and I realized this was the woman who had made my appointment earlier today.
Adding some more oil to her hands, she asked if I was ready for her "special massage."
"Oh yeah, definitely," I said.
"Spread your thighs for me," she said, and suddenly her hands were everywhere....one gripping my shaft, the other stroking my balls and reaching down between my balls and asshole.
"Yesssss" I hissed.
She stroked my shaft, up and down, in quick strokes. "Does that feel good, baby?" she asked.
"Oh yes, just what I need."
She kept stroking, her slick hands moving quickly over my shaft and balls, and her left hand pressing more insistently below my balls. I could feel the orgasm building in my loins, and started thrusting my hips off the table.
"Oh yesssss," I moaned quietly, remembering I was in a public place.
Suddenly, I was at the point of no return, and Bonnie could tell, jacking me even harder as my orgasm built. "Come for me baby," she cooed.
"Uhhhhnnnhhhhhh" was all I said as I came, harder than I had in a long time, my gooey spunk coating her hand and my lower torso.
Bonnie kept milking my shaft through several hard spurts, finally releasing me when I was spent. "Was that just what you needed?"
"Oh yes, definitely - I feel so much better, so much more relaxed," I said, as she cleaned me off with a damp towel.
"Good. I just ask that you keep this between you and me. Take your time getting dressed, and I'll see you up front," she said, covering my now-wilted cock before she left the room.
When I could move again, I got up, cleaned off the spots she missed, and got dressed. Before I left, I paid the fees and gave Bonnie a little something extra for her hard work - after all, I want her to remember me next time!!

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