Happy Ending

Happy Ending

I had finished cutting some plywood with my new circular saw when I felt the telltale twinge in my back. With ice packs and heating pads I managed not to be completely laid up with a thrown back.

A few days later my back was feeling better - just some stiffness in the lower region. But as a result I had not been able to have sex with my wife for days and she just left town that morning abandoning me to my unrequited urges.

Perusing Doublist I saw the ad for a massage. That was just what I needed to relieve some stress and aching muscles. I scanned it quickly: some guy had a home massage set-up.

I checked out a few less sketchy adverts in the mainstream but the prices were more than double. My mind was made up for me when I called a place and the next appointment wasn't for three days.

So I sent another message to Brad, the home masseur. He would massage me anytime I wanted and he was even closer than the big chain places.

I arrived half an hour later not expecting anything extraordinary - boy was I wrong. You gotta read past the first events in the story to really understand.

He was an older guy and his place was decorated like my granny lived there: doilies on the arm of the couch, a Barbara Streisand book on the coffee table, and classic antique furniture. After my drive I needed to use the restroom in which I found the typical men's products: aftershave, Old Spice, and masculine designer soap. Well, except for a pink canister of depilatory like my wife uses when she waxes her legs.

He was sipping on a glass of Sangria so he offered me a drink and we chatted before the rub. He was a nice guy, and apparently gay, which I would not have guessed right away based on his manly forthright demeanor.

When it was time he suggested we go to his bedroom. Not a typical place for a massage but I'd already invested an hour of my time, so I thought, "In for a penny, in for a pound."

Ok, his bedroom was even more sketch, not a massage table in sight, but he hadn't even asked for money and the hint of a muscular twinge convinced me to follow through.

He had me lay down on his bedspread with my head at the foot of the bed while he went to warm up some oil. With no towel to wrap myself, when he returned I was naked and face down. "Sorry about the pecker tracks on your bed." I offered sheepishly.

He set me at ease, "No problem. It's bound to happen." Then added mysteriously, "And there'll be more."

When the warm oil was drizzled on my bare skin I put aside any nervous thoughts and surrendered doubts. My body melted.

His hands were skilled despite him apologizing for being an amateur. Knots evaporated. Stress left me. And I felt good.

He stood by my side rubbing from my shoulders to my ankles. Then he stood by my head, leaning over me when he slid his hands down my back, stopping at the base of my spine.

Back at my side again this strong gay man squeezed my thighs. When his fingers accidentally grazed my balls my only thought was that I was glad my dick was hidden. I mean, who's dick wouldn't respond embarrassingly?

Back at my head again his fingers pushed the tension out of my neck then ran along my spine to my ass. Did he touch my crack? I just ignored it.

He reached further, rubbing the back of my thighs. The effect was that his stomach pressed my face into the mattress. I'm sure the masseuse at the other place would not do that. But those fingers which next "accidentally" caressed my testicles made up for having my head trapped under his dad-belly. Is it too strange that I liked it?

Brad moved to the side again, "Do you like getting your legs done?"

"Oh yea, I'm surprised though. I thought I only needed my back done."

"You have nice legs Scotty. We'll do whatever needs doing." And saying that his fingers delved further around my thighs than they had before. A fingertip poked at my dick which had returned to its flaccid state and was pointing down toward my ankles. Thank goodness he hadn't done that before when it was hard. Surely, there was no way he knew it would be there. Wouldn't most guys lie with it pointing up?

I replied to his earlier statement, "You're the one giving the backrub. Whatever you say."

Then he was at my head again, reaching far to squeeze my glutes. His package brushed my forearm. When had he lost his pants? No matter, after all it was a little warm there in his bedroom. And he still had his underwear on. Sure it was unprofessional. But he had said he was an amateur. I found it amusing that as a gay masseuse he was apparently enamored by me. This was a first and I felt strangely complimented.

Brad kept working my buns and kept gesticulating his bulging package on my arm, then even on the back of my head. He had no shame but I was feeling no pain. I allowed the perverted assault as long as the backrub continued.

I could feel what was there better when it was on the back of my hand, and there was no mistaking that it was a set of balls and a penis: a naked set of hairy balls and a hard penis!

He thrust it under my hand and I was aware that my hand took hold of a firm tumescent cock. Brad fucked at my hand as I formed a tunnel with my fingers for the shaft which was rapidly becoming slick.

Suddenly, he barked, "Turn over."

The change from gentle masseuse to commanding molester shocked my sensibilities, yet I was powerless to resist.

On my back, his moist tool poked at the side of my head leaving more pecker tracks, this time in virgin territory. Brad massaged my nuts firmly and deftly smothering my face with his bare stomach.

When I had the chance I turned my head away from the protruding and leaking appendage only to have him switch sides too.

He jerked my stiff and thick six inch rod even as it betrayed me.

Giving up, I searched with my eyes hoping to see the pole that was spreading its wetness on my forehead. Brad humped frantically at my face all the more, certainly trying to discover my mouth. But like a young passion-filled man in the back seat at lovers' lane his uncoordinated grinding worked against him so he never found ingress.

I tilted my head back for my aggressor but it didn't work. Man, did my hanging sack feel fantastic under his oily-handed and skilled care.

This man I'd only just met leaned forward, awkwardly perched on me while taking the head of my throbbing traitor into his mouth, which, of course, placed his wet tube next to my upturned face.

His body weight pinned me down, and you know what? I didn't care.

Gray pubic hair grazed my nose. Loose balls fell on me as well. His taut dickhead slid up and down the side of my cheek coating it with juice. My penis was so happy in his mouth it never occured to me to turn my face away again.

The old guy jabbed without aiming, seemingly just as glad to massage my face with his glans as to find a reluctant hole.

Then finally he stabbed into my mouth, which to my consternation I admitted, I had been holding open expectantly.

My lips wrapped around a man's wet penis for the first time ever. It slipped through my mouth-pussy easily and caressed my naïve tongue.

When it fell out Brad didn't seem to care, frotting my face wildly. My mouth searched and was rewarded. Our cocks felt good exactly where they were.

Quickly, he scrambled off me, laying on the bed with his legs spread wide and knowing what he wanted.

I climbed over one of his legs, taking his proud staff back into my desirous oral cavity again. Hungry for dick I slurped it up. I tried all the tricks an old girlfriend had used on me before I had gotten married into the purgatory of a life absent of blowjobs. Little did wifey know I'd just found a loophole.

I bobbed my head as the tables were turned and I became the masseuse to HIS testicles. Brad's hand pinched my asscheeks, then his fingers traced roughly along my dark furrow until his thumb pushed its way inside my bum. Would he fuck me today? Would I lose my anal virginity before my wife lost hers? Did he have protection?

He fucked energetically into my mouth still finger fucking my ass with an equal amount of gusto. Was he close? Could I handle a man's cum in my mouth? Would it taste vile? Would there be a lot? Could I pull off if he warned me? I wished he would grab my head and take control again so I would be free from these thoughts and decisions.

Brad was breathing heavily from his exertions and my mouth was getting tired too. His hips jutted up forcefully ramming that spit coated dick halfway into my sloppy mouth.

Faster and faster he drove it. I wanted him to climax. I wanted his cum inside me but also was afraid of it at the same time. Jerking on the base I only hoped I was doing a good job before it was my turn to receive a blowjob.

I tightened my lips, I swirled my tongue. Brad's hand corkscrewed my cock inspiring uncontrollable lust in me.

I focused on the cockhead, suctioning hard and causing my seducer to moan and thrash. He pushed his hips up one last time withdrawing his hand from my nethers, then grabbed a fistfull of the bedspread.

Cum oozed out and invaded my body, inside me, on my tongue. It didn't taste bad. In fact, it didn't taste at all. I couldn't bring myself to swallow so I let it drip down onto his crown and my hand. There was so much! How had I not experienced it utterly filling my mouth?

Brad lay back panting and exclaiming how good it was - past tense.

My neglected dick pulsed a few times but I knew it was over and I'd be at home pulling my pud yet again. So much for my happy ending.

I held my slimed hand up in the air not wanting to wipe the once again disgusting fluid on anything or even to let it drip.

Just then a feminine voice startled me. I certainly didn't expect a woman in the apartment of a single gay man.

"Hey Papi, you brought home another toy." She eyed my erection waving lonely in the air as it was. "And by the looks of it you've not been a good host."

Brad touched my shoulder, "This is my "niece" Clairette. Sometimes we share.

She didn't look a day over 18 and I didn't care as the tall pretty-enough lass in the Catholic schoolgirl skirt with a matching choker around her neck dropped to her knees beside the bed.

Brad read my mind, "She likes her costumes. And she's been living here since her twenty-second birthday when she left her parent's place to find herself."

Clairette inhaled my dick in one fell swoop. It was buried to the root and boy was she good. Brad cradled my head in his lap watching this slutty thing suck the chrome off my bumper. I didn't even care about the residual spooge leaking from his spent dick making a mess of my hair.

She choked herself thoroughly before coming up for air, "Do you treat a lady right too?"

I was confused. She must mean a good fuck because normally that phrase would mean dinner and drinks. I lifted one questioning eyebrow.

Brad brought his face close to mine, "She wants you to return the favor. To suck her clee-tOR-is."

I looked back at Brad, "Her clit?"

"Clit, clitty, clitette, whatever you want to call it." I nodded, causing Brad to smile widely while Clairette shucked her white shirt and tie.

"Well of course I eat pussy." I thought. Admiring this girl's bare shoulders and shapely waist. I was more than ready after too many years without. She would taste sweet as cherry pie being so young and all.

Rising, her perfect sculpted form approached. No artist nor gifted surgeon could create a more perfect being. Or did I have that wrong? Nature didn't turn out flawless ladies like this. In fact, only an artist's hand could be responsible.

She'd kept her bra on but just below her sternum I spied a gothic cross tattooed there on her sun-deprived porcelain skin and a hint of a back tattoo peeking out on both sides. Feathers. I guessed she had wings on her back. The artwork could only add to her well-crafted beauty.

Clairette straddled my legs creeping forward. Her girly legs were smooth and stubble free against my hairy ones.

Coming closer I smelled her powdery perfume and felt bewitched by her black lipstick. So sexy! I yearned to reach out. To take her in my arms. But Brad's thick white slime still coated my hand which I held uncertainly up in the air and out of the way.

I felt the heat from her groin as she sat on her pedestal which was my chest.

Taking my slime free hand in hers she brought it to her lips, kissing my fingers then guiding my hand under her skirt to one lily-white warm thigh.

Next she took my gooey hand in hers. Ever so lightly she kissed one spermy finger. Brad's cum looked delightfully tasty on her, renewed by her kiss as it was. Then the wicked vixen guided my polluted hand to my own lips.

One glazed finger was poised above my lips, then she did nothing. I looked into her pretty and darkly shadowy eyes. Wondering why she hadn't plunged the jizz into my mouth. If she wanted to put it in my mouth I would let her. After all, it had already been in there before I spit it out.

Smiling wryly, she gave a quick nod of her head indicating that she wanted me to make the decision.

I stuck the tiniest tip of my tongue out, making contact with the fluid that had so recently been in Brad's nuts. It was cold. Tasteless. Wet. But not so bad if this was what my dark angel desired.

This WAS all she wanted. And now that I'd taken the first step she pushed each of my fingers and the cum coated palm of my hand in between my lips with a fervent energy. She was giggling childishly while Brad held my head firm. They coordinated their efforts as if they'd done this little routine many times before. To me the proof was Brad's re-hardening cock on the back of my neck.

She held my hand firmly, commanding me sternly to lick it all up. Brad held my head firm too, as if I would attempt an escape. I had no such plan for soon enough pliable young pussy lips would replace those fingers. I dreamed of nibbling on delicate pink labia, sucking a diminutive clit and the triumph of actually finding it, then lastly plunging my tongue into the tight chasm of raw pussy to relish the tart nectar. My favorite part was always licking the broken remnants of a torn and healed hymen as if I was offering comfort for a past harm.

Clairette knee walked closer to my face. Did I perceive the beautiful scent of a woman? I sniffed loudly, displaying my pleasure. Meanwhile Brad repositioned himself, wrapping his legs around my torso.

I craned my neck upward hoping to press my nose against the damp cotton panties which were just now visible beneath the plaid skirt. Unfortunately, Brad held my head down in his lap. I would have to be patient.

Clairette lifted herself up on her knees inches from my face. Brad spoke like the proverbial devil on my shoulder tempting me, "Beautiful, isn't she? You want her."

I licked my lips, "I gotta taste her. I gotta have it now."

"Just wait, Scotty." The slim waif removed her bra, revealing pert tiny titties and piercings.

"Wait for it." She shook her head, fluffing long raven hair.

"I need her puss now. I can't wait any longer!"

"Wait for it, Scotty."

Long purple fingernails traced a line under the hem of her incongruously innocent and plain white panties. She teased me, threatening to remove the secretive undergarment, then letting the elastic snap back into place. I could stand it no more and if she weren't kneeling on my arms I would've ripped those blasted panties right off of her too-perfect young body.

The evil nymph kissed my forehead then sat upright again. She removed the black satin ribbon from around her neck, draping the shiny choker on my rock hard cock as if this were a most meaningful event.

Dramatically caressing her body with flowing gestures she pinched her little boobies with a shake of her torso before bringing her fingers back down for the moment of truth.

She reached beneath the side of her underwear and with no further delay pulled the deceptive material back quicker than one rips off a bandaid.

And there before my eyes, contrasting against her pale soft skin stood a ruddy long schlong. I gasped in shock, muttering something along the lines of "What the fuck!"

Brad tightened his legs around me and his grip on my head. Clairette pushed the half hard sausage down, jamming it into my mouth before I even knew it.

I had sucked Brad's cock not that long ago, and while I had wanted to at the time, this was different. The build up to that previous cocksucking event had prepared me. Nothing had prepared me for this.

The shock was overwhelming. Everything I'd known about her was untrue. I didn't welcome the intrusion. I didn't suddenly love sucking shecock. I was merely dazed.

She wasn't a perky titted niece. She was a liar.

Clairette plowed my mouth while Brad snickered, practically singing, "Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side."

The offending appendage was long, twice as long as Brad's, yet spongy and bendy. It easily crawled into my throat as she rocked her thin hips, never letting go of the meaty log she was feeding me.

Her eyes burned into mine, "Choke faggot. There's nothing better than choking on a cock!"

She was right. I was choking. My airway was completely blocked. I searched her eyes: was she going to let me die? I imagined my wife returning from her trip and asking how I'd died.

I imagined the shocked and hurt look on her face when she learned I choked to death on a beautiful girl's cock. And the thought satisfied some part of me.

Just then Clairette pulled the log away from me. She brought her face to mine while I gasped. The scary angel licked my neck sensually touching my cock with her toes as if to confirm I was still thrilled by her.

She laughed playfully, "I meant what I said. There's nothing better than choking on a big cock and yours really makes me want to choke. Do you wanna choke on mine first?"

Brad was whispering, "Hers is better than honey. Do it! You know you wanna choke on it."

I crossed my eyes to focus on it before impulsively announcing, "Choke me Clairette. Choke me with your big femmy clit!"

She tapped it on my lips a few times, "We're gonna 69 so we can choke together. I call top."

In a flash we were in the sixty-nine position and I was looking up at her cock. Guttural sounds reverberated from her mouth when she rammed her throat against the blunt end of my cock. She pulled off briefly, "Mmm, I'm really looking forward to this. And teaching you. Just trust me. I won't hurt you or anything...not too much."

She fed her cock into my mouth and throat slowly and carefully while the noise from the other end made it seem like she was dying.

I gagged but not too much. She plugged my windpipe briefly at first, but then for longer times.

Her lips travelled from tip to base roughly and rapidly. Brad adjusted the angle of my neck slightly so Clairette could rightly fuck my face. She was gentle despite my sputtering.

When her balls hit my lips I felt proud. I could barely believe I took it all.

Brad fingered her anus (giving me tips on how to suck cock all the while), and it was a darn pretty anus.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all he kissed her puckered brown hole, "Scotty, I'm not lying when I say she's got the best jism. Do you want her to shoot it deep, or deposit it...right...on...your...tongue?"

I moaned an incoherent answer. "What's the matter Scotty? Cat got your tongue? Oh, right, you're choking on a cock. Not so straight now, are you pretty boy? Well, I promise you want it on your tongue."

He spoke to Clairette next, "Put it on his tongue, honey."

She pulled off, "Oh Bradley, of course I will. As soon as I feel the first orgasmic jerks in his cock I'll let loose."

She choked herself and me for an eternity and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

With her teeth bouncing gently into the part of me just next to my dick I shook and spasmed and knew exactly what was gonna happen next.