Read Online 9781618857569GettingitAllStorm by Troy Storm - Free Book Online
Authors: Troy Storm
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tense buttocks and
began a deep tissue massage. He chuckled. “Want me to start with your ass, huh?
Most of the guys won't even let me touch their butts.” He sighed. “I'm afraid I
totally misjudged what I thought I had to offer the guys in this town.”
The kid's sigh bespoke of untold
numbers of young entrepreneurs now in debt up to their eyebrows. Dreams fading quickly. Reality bashing its
way in.
“Well, it's working for me.” Matt
was already beginning to feel his vulnerability fade, his perturbability ...whatever.
He didn't like feeling unsettled. Clay's magic hands on his ass and up his back
seemed to calm that. “And I don't think I'm all that different from my fellow CoveHavenites .” Clay had worked his way up to Matt's
shoulders. “Oh, God. Yes. Deep, please. Near pain.” Clay pressed hard. Matt
felt...good. The tension was being pressed out. Like
stomped grapes underfoot. To make a good wine. A good local northeastern vintage.
“You're different, Mr....Matt.
You want a massage. A lot of guys take a look back here, but not too many give
it a try. I thought after a hard day's work at a corporate desk or something,
most of the guys would really enjoy something that would get the tension out.
It must be tough trying to make a living in the city with all that commuting
and being away from their families. I don't know if I could handle that.”
Matt turned over on his back.
“Clay, you're gay, right?”
The young man looked at his client
carefully. “Yeah. Well, mostly.”
“Mostly?” Matt
searched the wary deep blue eyes.
“I've had girlfriends.” Clay
began to stroke Matt's legs.
His
hands created pure pleasure, pure release. Matt relaxed and poured out his
history. Alice. Her death. His
denial. Buddy, his friend's attempts. Then...
“Your massage really turned me
on,” he concluded.
“Yeah?” Clay had
rubbed down everything except...
“It showed me I wasn't totally a
dead pile of flesh.”
“Oh? Yeah?” The young man was still wary. Pleased, but not sure where the
conversation was going. “You wanna turn over? I didn't do the back of
your legs.”
“Sure,
Clay.” But he didn’t turn over. “I don't know if it's just the
massage.” Matt was coming down the home stretch. “Or the way you massage. Or if
it was just the right time. But you probably saved my life. At least my sexual life. I'm dating again.” It was a
statement of fact. A proclamation. A
revelation. A salvation.
“That's...good. That's kind of
what I...wanted to...” He fell silent, his hands at Matt's pubes.
“Clay, I would love for you to
jack me off, but that's not why I'm here. I can do that really well myself. I
can't believe I'm the only guy in town who needs to have his physical life
regenerated. I think you've got something special to offer.” He sidetracked.
“But the yellow has got to go.”
“What?”
“It's a great color. Very subtle. Daffodil, right? But
nobody comes to CoveHaven to get the same experience
they can get in midtown Manhattan. You know, bright,
clean spa type stuff. At least not the guys who come here. They want something different. They want what Leo has out front. A history. You know, just like you and your buddy were
impressed by the barber pole. Times gone by. When things were better. Or so they'd like to believe.”
“And?” Clay gripped
Matt's dick...hard. Defensively. Matt winced. Clay did
not apologize.
“I think you should go back to
the brown. Dark, cozy. Varnished
wood. Maybe a couple of spotlights on the massage table so you can see
what you’re doing, but none of this scented candle stuff? Maybe leave a couple
of bottles of aftershave open to connect it with the authentic old-fashioned
barbershop outside. Oh, God! That's fantastic what you're doing to my dick!”
The apprehensive young man was
transformed, his mind quickly attached to Matt's suggestions, his hands both
firmly massaging Matt's thick penis and sturdy balls. “It's Tantric. I think.
Penile
began a deep tissue massage. He chuckled. “Want me to start with your ass, huh?
Most of the guys won't even let me touch their butts.” He sighed. “I'm afraid I
totally misjudged what I thought I had to offer the guys in this town.”
The kid's sigh bespoke of untold
numbers of young entrepreneurs now in debt up to their eyebrows. Dreams fading quickly. Reality bashing its
way in.
“Well, it's working for me.” Matt
was already beginning to feel his vulnerability fade, his perturbability ...whatever.
He didn't like feeling unsettled. Clay's magic hands on his ass and up his back
seemed to calm that. “And I don't think I'm all that different from my fellow CoveHavenites .” Clay had worked his way up to Matt's
shoulders. “Oh, God. Yes. Deep, please. Near pain.” Clay pressed hard. Matt
felt...good. The tension was being pressed out. Like
stomped grapes underfoot. To make a good wine. A good local northeastern vintage.
“You're different, Mr....Matt.
You want a massage. A lot of guys take a look back here, but not too many give
it a try. I thought after a hard day's work at a corporate desk or something,
most of the guys would really enjoy something that would get the tension out.
It must be tough trying to make a living in the city with all that commuting
and being away from their families. I don't know if I could handle that.”
Matt turned over on his back.
“Clay, you're gay, right?”
The young man looked at his client
carefully. “Yeah. Well, mostly.”
“Mostly?” Matt
searched the wary deep blue eyes.
“I've had girlfriends.” Clay
began to stroke Matt's legs.
His
hands created pure pleasure, pure release. Matt relaxed and poured out his
history. Alice. Her death. His
denial. Buddy, his friend's attempts. Then...
“Your massage really turned me
on,” he concluded.
“Yeah?” Clay had
rubbed down everything except...
“It showed me I wasn't totally a
dead pile of flesh.”
“Oh? Yeah?” The young man was still wary. Pleased, but not sure where the
conversation was going. “You wanna turn over? I didn't do the back of
your legs.”
“Sure,
Clay.” But he didn’t turn over. “I don't know if it's just the
massage.” Matt was coming down the home stretch. “Or the way you massage. Or if
it was just the right time. But you probably saved my life. At least my sexual life. I'm dating again.” It was a
statement of fact. A proclamation. A
revelation. A salvation.
“That's...good. That's kind of
what I...wanted to...” He fell silent, his hands at Matt's pubes.
“Clay, I would love for you to
jack me off, but that's not why I'm here. I can do that really well myself. I
can't believe I'm the only guy in town who needs to have his physical life
regenerated. I think you've got something special to offer.” He sidetracked.
“But the yellow has got to go.”
“What?”
“It's a great color. Very subtle. Daffodil, right? But
nobody comes to CoveHaven to get the same experience
they can get in midtown Manhattan. You know, bright,
clean spa type stuff. At least not the guys who come here. They want something different. They want what Leo has out front. A history. You know, just like you and your buddy were
impressed by the barber pole. Times gone by. When things were better. Or so they'd like to believe.”
“And?” Clay gripped
Matt's dick...hard. Defensively. Matt winced. Clay did
not apologize.
“I think you should go back to
the brown. Dark, cozy. Varnished
wood. Maybe a couple of spotlights on the massage table so you can see
what you’re doing, but none of this scented candle stuff? Maybe leave a couple
of bottles of aftershave open to connect it with the authentic old-fashioned
barbershop outside. Oh, God! That's fantastic what you're doing to my dick!”
The apprehensive young man was
transformed, his mind quickly attached to Matt's suggestions, his hands both
firmly massaging Matt's thick penis and sturdy balls. “It's Tantric. I think.
Penile
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