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Authors: Ally Adams
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asked. It was a genuine question and totally professional—honest.
“Tight,” he answered.
“Let’s start with you lying on your stomach,” I told him and he lay on my table. “So where are the niggles?”
“Just tired muscles, everywhere,” he said.
“Right.” I studied his gorgeous... well everything. He looked totally relaxed and I guess he was; Lucas was no stranger to physios rubbing him up and down.
I began a quick all over session including his shoulders, back, glutes and thighs. He stiffened and moaned occasionally as I worked each area but I wasn’t worried about hurting him; Andy and some of the other male physios at the club would have a lot more strength in their technique than me. I worked his thigh muscles, my fingers kneading around the top of his legs and stopping just short of his tight and well-formed butt.
“You’re one lucky guy,” I said. “Bet your other minders didn’t give you a qualified sports massage like this,” I said, pushing hard to emphasize each word.
“You’re right about that. I wouldn’t let any of those idiots touch me.”
I finished off his back with some long, soothing strokes. “Done here,” I said. “Roll over.”
He hesitated for a moment and I had a momentary sense of panic that I had done something wrong and he couldn’t move. Then I realized what was going on.
“Um,” I cleared my throat, “this is not a happy ending massage.”
Lucas Ainswright actually looked slightly flushed with embarrassment and then in his usual fashion, he deflected it back on me.
“Could be a happy ending,” he said, “if you offered the full service.”
“Don’t worry about it Lucas,” I said using my professional physiotherapist student voice. “It's perfectly normal for men to get an erection during a non-sexual , therapeutic massage.” I emphasized the non-sexual. “Touching the body can activate the parasympathetic nervous system and cause a partial or full erection.”
“Did they teach you in class to say that?” he asked.
“Yes,” I told him and stood back. “C’mon, turn over, it’s not like I haven’t seen one before.”
Lucas laughed. “I’m not worried about showing you my prized possession. Consider yourself lucky,” he said. “But knowing how prudish you are, I thought you might be freaked out.”
“I’m not prudish,” I declared. I rolled my eyes. “Get on with it.”
He gave a casual shrug and rolled onto his back.
Oh wow, it was pretty hard to ignore that large bulge that was stretching the white fabric very thin, thin to almost translucent. I think I was staring.
“Mia...” Lucas said in a sing-song voice.
“What? Oh yeah, right.” I moved around and stood behind his head where I hoped he would close his eyes as I worked his neck and shoulders—at least until I got rid of my blush and stopped hyperventilating.
From this angle though, his erection was even more superb. Right, focus. I reached under his neck and combed my fingers upward from the back to the base of the skull. I pressed down across the tops of his shoulders, releasing his muscle tension. I got a rhythm going—stroking across the upper chest and collarbone area. He moaned and relaxed into my hands. This was helping him but not me; his bulge was not going down.
For pity’s sake how is anyone supposed to work with that loaded gun pointed at them?
“Mia...” Lucas mumbled.
“Yes,” I said, taking my eyes off his boxers and returning them to his face. He had his eyes open and was looking at me with a serene expression on his face—somewhere between half asleep and totally wiped out.
“You need to work my groin area,” he said.
“What?” I knew that, but I thought it best to avoid it.
“You’ve done enough on my chest. Move to the groin,” Lucas repeated. “Common area for injuries with sports players, especially soccer players.”
Lucas was really enjoying this. Enjoying my discomfort. Well guess what Lucas? I thought. You want
“Tight,” he answered.
“Let’s start with you lying on your stomach,” I told him and he lay on my table. “So where are the niggles?”
“Just tired muscles, everywhere,” he said.
“Right.” I studied his gorgeous... well everything. He looked totally relaxed and I guess he was; Lucas was no stranger to physios rubbing him up and down.
I began a quick all over session including his shoulders, back, glutes and thighs. He stiffened and moaned occasionally as I worked each area but I wasn’t worried about hurting him; Andy and some of the other male physios at the club would have a lot more strength in their technique than me. I worked his thigh muscles, my fingers kneading around the top of his legs and stopping just short of his tight and well-formed butt.
“You’re one lucky guy,” I said. “Bet your other minders didn’t give you a qualified sports massage like this,” I said, pushing hard to emphasize each word.
“You’re right about that. I wouldn’t let any of those idiots touch me.”
I finished off his back with some long, soothing strokes. “Done here,” I said. “Roll over.”
He hesitated for a moment and I had a momentary sense of panic that I had done something wrong and he couldn’t move. Then I realized what was going on.
“Um,” I cleared my throat, “this is not a happy ending massage.”
Lucas Ainswright actually looked slightly flushed with embarrassment and then in his usual fashion, he deflected it back on me.
“Could be a happy ending,” he said, “if you offered the full service.”
“Don’t worry about it Lucas,” I said using my professional physiotherapist student voice. “It's perfectly normal for men to get an erection during a non-sexual , therapeutic massage.” I emphasized the non-sexual. “Touching the body can activate the parasympathetic nervous system and cause a partial or full erection.”
“Did they teach you in class to say that?” he asked.
“Yes,” I told him and stood back. “C’mon, turn over, it’s not like I haven’t seen one before.”
Lucas laughed. “I’m not worried about showing you my prized possession. Consider yourself lucky,” he said. “But knowing how prudish you are, I thought you might be freaked out.”
“I’m not prudish,” I declared. I rolled my eyes. “Get on with it.”
He gave a casual shrug and rolled onto his back.
Oh wow, it was pretty hard to ignore that large bulge that was stretching the white fabric very thin, thin to almost translucent. I think I was staring.
“Mia...” Lucas said in a sing-song voice.
“What? Oh yeah, right.” I moved around and stood behind his head where I hoped he would close his eyes as I worked his neck and shoulders—at least until I got rid of my blush and stopped hyperventilating.
From this angle though, his erection was even more superb. Right, focus. I reached under his neck and combed my fingers upward from the back to the base of the skull. I pressed down across the tops of his shoulders, releasing his muscle tension. I got a rhythm going—stroking across the upper chest and collarbone area. He moaned and relaxed into my hands. This was helping him but not me; his bulge was not going down.
For pity’s sake how is anyone supposed to work with that loaded gun pointed at them?
“Mia...” Lucas mumbled.
“Yes,” I said, taking my eyes off his boxers and returning them to his face. He had his eyes open and was looking at me with a serene expression on his face—somewhere between half asleep and totally wiped out.
“You need to work my groin area,” he said.
“What?” I knew that, but I thought it best to avoid it.
“You’ve done enough on my chest. Move to the groin,” Lucas repeated. “Common area for injuries with sports players, especially soccer players.”
Lucas was really enjoying this. Enjoying my discomfort. Well guess what Lucas? I thought. You want
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