On the Prowl for a Hot Massage. The Ten Minute Tease, #2
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- FormatePub
- ISBN978-1-4989-1357-7
- EAN9781498913577
- Date de parution28/12/2013
- Protection num.pas de protection
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurAiricka Phoenix
Résumé
You know a great way to break the ice? Practicing massage therapy on another guy. Lately it's been my mode of choice for getting to know the curious guys around campus. Especially this one - a slim, attractive guy I've been eyeing for while now. Only thing is, I don't know if he's into me. Or even if he's into guys. He's given me looks, invited me to his place to help him break in his new massage table.Maybe he doesn't know what I'm thinking, but I couldn't have imagined a better first date to tell him if I'd planned it myself!---EXCERPT"It's not about strength, " I tell him.
"It's about taking the time to put them at ease, relax them.""Is that what you're trying to do to me?" he asks knowingly."If you'll let me, " I joke, slapping him playfully on his ass through the towel. He jumps, a little, but doesn't argue. I take it as a good sign and inch farther down, until my fingers brush across the fabric of the towel and inch just underneath. He flinches, slightly, before I coat the backs of his legs with oil and repeat the process, kneading the long, thin muscles of the backs of his thighs until I again brush up - and under - the towel.
His oily body glistens in the late afternoon sun sifting through the curtains as I work on the backs of his thighs, feeling for the slightest shift in movement. I'm no slouch with massages, and I'm giving him all the delicate attention I had imagined I would. But so far he's given no signs back, and I begin to think, maybe I was wrong when I noticed all those looks he cast my way in class. Maybe he is straight, after all.
Then my finger brushes the soft rise of his left cheek, slightly, tenderly, and the smallest whimper rushes from his lips.
"It's about taking the time to put them at ease, relax them.""Is that what you're trying to do to me?" he asks knowingly."If you'll let me, " I joke, slapping him playfully on his ass through the towel. He jumps, a little, but doesn't argue. I take it as a good sign and inch farther down, until my fingers brush across the fabric of the towel and inch just underneath. He flinches, slightly, before I coat the backs of his legs with oil and repeat the process, kneading the long, thin muscles of the backs of his thighs until I again brush up - and under - the towel.
His oily body glistens in the late afternoon sun sifting through the curtains as I work on the backs of his thighs, feeling for the slightest shift in movement. I'm no slouch with massages, and I'm giving him all the delicate attention I had imagined I would. But so far he's given no signs back, and I begin to think, maybe I was wrong when I noticed all those looks he cast my way in class. Maybe he is straight, after all.
Then my finger brushes the soft rise of his left cheek, slightly, tenderly, and the smallest whimper rushes from his lips.
You know a great way to break the ice? Practicing massage therapy on another guy. Lately it's been my mode of choice for getting to know the curious guys around campus. Especially this one - a slim, attractive guy I've been eyeing for while now. Only thing is, I don't know if he's into me. Or even if he's into guys. He's given me looks, invited me to his place to help him break in his new massage table.Maybe he doesn't know what I'm thinking, but I couldn't have imagined a better first date to tell him if I'd planned it myself!---EXCERPT"It's not about strength, " I tell him.
"It's about taking the time to put them at ease, relax them.""Is that what you're trying to do to me?" he asks knowingly."If you'll let me, " I joke, slapping him playfully on his ass through the towel. He jumps, a little, but doesn't argue. I take it as a good sign and inch farther down, until my fingers brush across the fabric of the towel and inch just underneath. He flinches, slightly, before I coat the backs of his legs with oil and repeat the process, kneading the long, thin muscles of the backs of his thighs until I again brush up - and under - the towel.
His oily body glistens in the late afternoon sun sifting through the curtains as I work on the backs of his thighs, feeling for the slightest shift in movement. I'm no slouch with massages, and I'm giving him all the delicate attention I had imagined I would. But so far he's given no signs back, and I begin to think, maybe I was wrong when I noticed all those looks he cast my way in class. Maybe he is straight, after all.
Then my finger brushes the soft rise of his left cheek, slightly, tenderly, and the smallest whimper rushes from his lips.
"It's about taking the time to put them at ease, relax them.""Is that what you're trying to do to me?" he asks knowingly."If you'll let me, " I joke, slapping him playfully on his ass through the towel. He jumps, a little, but doesn't argue. I take it as a good sign and inch farther down, until my fingers brush across the fabric of the towel and inch just underneath. He flinches, slightly, before I coat the backs of his legs with oil and repeat the process, kneading the long, thin muscles of the backs of his thighs until I again brush up - and under - the towel.
His oily body glistens in the late afternoon sun sifting through the curtains as I work on the backs of his thighs, feeling for the slightest shift in movement. I'm no slouch with massages, and I'm giving him all the delicate attention I had imagined I would. But so far he's given no signs back, and I begin to think, maybe I was wrong when I noticed all those looks he cast my way in class. Maybe he is straight, after all.
Then my finger brushes the soft rise of his left cheek, slightly, tenderly, and the smallest whimper rushes from his lips.
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