The Maseur - Sex Stories

The Maseur

I do not claim to be a grammar expert and as such you will find some grammatical errors in this story. The errors can be the switching of tense, spelling errors, or typos. I ask if you find an error please send me an email so I can correct and make the story enjoyable for others. WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are u******e Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! CindyUSA Cindyusa58@yahoo.com The Masseur I started a new job at Coco Beach Florida. My wife and I moved into a two-bedroom apartment not too far from my new office. I must have lifted a heavy box incorrectly resulting in a pulled back muscle. . On my first day of work I was visibly in pain. One of my co-workers suggested I meet a friend of hers was a masseur. I laughed it off, but each day the pain worsened. The pain got so bad, I finally asked for the contact information of the masseur. His name was Carl. I called for an appointment and set it up for the same day. He explained he had his massage table set up in his spare bedroom and I would visit his house. His house was found in an upscale subdivision which was part of the Country Club. All the houses looked the same with the only way to find his house was by the number on the mailbox. I parked in his double-wide driveway. He met me at the door, inviting me into his home. He said. "I am working on my masseur license. I cannot charge for the massage, but donations are always ...

... welcome." He was dressed in shorts and a golf shirt which allowed me to notice his nice tan. He mentioned he worked at the tennis pro shop at the County Club. He performed massages on the side. We sat on the couch drinking a soft drink talking about Coco Beach, my recent move to the area, and of course sports. Carl asked me about my back – where the pain was, when it started, and if I had had back trouble before. I told him, "This is not only my first back injury, but also my first time to visit a masseur.” He asked me to walk back to one of his bedrooms. A massage table was set up with oils and other things he used to ply his trade. On the table were candles, burning incenses, and different oils. He asked me to take off my clothes, which I did down to my boxes. He tossed me a towel and told me to drop the boxers and put the towel on. I wrapped it around me and pulled off the boxers. I was not uncomfortable, but I was aware I was almost naked in a room with a man I just met. He directed me to lie face down on the table. He turned on some new age music, something soft to help me relax. He lit candles and burned incense. There was a flat-screen TV on the wall in front of the table. He turned the TV to a yoga class with a woman in body stockings doing incredible bending movements. My sense of sound, smell and sight were all being massaged. I already felt relaxed, when he began to speak in a low monotone voice, asking simple questions I could answer with the nod of my head or with ...