Confessions of an underaged massage therapist - Sex Stories

Confessions of an underaged massage therapist

... over my belly. I kept stroking him until all his sperm had been released from his balls. I played with his spunk and licked some off my fingers. I did not mean to do that, but it was a natural thing for me to do. I swung my leg off him without ever losing my grasp of his shaft. I looked at him and said, “feel better, baby?” “Fuck yea”, he said. I gave him my cell number and told him to call me as soon as he had saved up another load of cum for me.

So far, this is an awesome job for me.

I had some walk-ins who either did not want a happy ending, or were too shy to indicate it, so I gave most of my massages without any hanky panky. And that was no fun. Not only did I not get much of a tip, but it was boring too. But there were no bad customers my first month. Bad, as in they smelled bad, or were hairy, or were rude. Most were quiet and reserved. And most had never been there before. Regardless of how they were, I always acted like they were the highlight of my day, and I wanted them to call me when they felt stressed. I would help out. Some may have gotten that message, and some were too introverted to understand. I had given my phone number out to dozens of customers by this time and was now starting to get calls for appointments. I thought that this was a pretty easy way to make a living. Having repeat customers was my goal, and I had to please them for that to happen. So far, so good.

There was one guy who I remember as a favorite. His name was Rob, and he was ...

... tall, slim and handsome. He was older than most, and a clean, white collar type guy too, which is always a bonus. He was married, but apparently didn’t get much action from his wife. He liked my massage technique and what I did to give him a happy ending. He was from out of town so he would text me when he planned to be in town. Rob would always make an appointment to make sure that I was available. We soon developed a pattern, where he would sit on the table, naked, and wait for me to walk in. He would hold me in his arms and pull me close between his spread-out thighs. His erect prick was poking up between his belly and my chest. We would kiss, and he would tell me how much he looked forward to this. He would grab my ass and play with me a few moments, then lay on his chest for his massage.

I learned quickly that he liked his ass played with, so when I got to his thighs, I would work my fingers in the crack of his ass with some oil and delicately massage the opening to his butt. He would raise his ass up for more, but I did not penetrate him. I would stroke his cock while he was in this position, and he’d moan and wiggle around. When I asked him to turn over, he was always eager to. I would begin to stroke his shaft and he’d grab my ass with the hand that was on my side of the table. He’d increase the grip on my ass as he got closer to climax, and then he’d blow his wad. Since he was older, it didn’t shoot out of his dick, it just boiled out all over my hand. I liked that, ...