DAVID:

    I love massages. If I could, I would get a massage every single day. I am amazed when I talk to people, like my husband, who say professional massages are "okay" but not more than that. 

    For Valentine's Day this year, Sven got me a voucher for a couple's massage and I couldn't wait to use it. There were two male masseurs at our gym who were both gay and had happily given me "special" massages in the past, so I was looking forward to experiencing that with my husband.

    Unfortunately, the day of our appointment, several things went wrong. It was a Wednesday and Sven was supposed to have the day off work, but he got a phone call from the office asking if he could show up for a quick morning meeting. 

    "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Plenty of time until our massage this afternoon," Sven kissed me on his way out, leaving me with an ominous feeling that I wouldn't see him until tonight.

    Secondly, our son absolutely refused to go to school. He said he wasn't feeling so well, but I knew that his buddy Niles was home sick with the flu, and I assumed Eric didn't want to go to school without him there.

    "Fine, you can stay. Your dad and I are getting a massage at the gym this afternoon, but you can wait for us at the reception," I'd told Eric.

    Call me psychic, because I was right about Sven. The meeting got extended, and he wouldn't be leaving the office anytime soon. I tried to reschedule our massage, but since it required for both masseurs to be available at the same time, it wouldn't be for another three weeks.

    While I was on the phone doing all of this, my son was sitting next to me at the kitchen table.

    "Dad! Dad! Can I get a massage with you instead of Daddy?" Eric pulled on my sleeve and wouldn't let go.

    "No, honey, you have to be a grown-up," I whispered at him.

    "Why? They'll make an exception for me, I'm there all the time."

    "I thought you weren't feeling well?"

    "Yes, and this will make me feel better. Pleeeease. C'mon, just ask."

    Since he wouldn't stop nagging, I asked the receptionist who I was on the phone with if it'd be okay to get the massage with my son. Just like everyone there, she knew Eric, and she took me by surprise when she said it wouldn't be a problem.

    Out of excuses, I drove to the gym with my son. I asked Eric to wait at the reception while I went to talk to the two masseurs.

    "There's been a change of plans," I said to them, the three of us alone in one of the rooms. They were both gorgeous-looking, fit guys in their 20s. "I'm here with my son, Eric, you know him. Sven couldn't make it, so Eric asked to take his spot."

    The two men looked at me with concern.

    "But no funny business!" I quickly assured them. "Just a standard massage. I packed a pair of shorts for him to wear, so he won't even be naked."

    The guys agreed, though I could tell neither of them wanted to be the one working on Eric rather than me. In the end they tossed a coin, and I headed to the locker room with my son to go get ready.

    By habit, I walked to the locker I normally used and began putting our stuff inside. I always like to take my time in the locker room and check out all the guys in various states of undressing, washing up… and cruising. The spot we were standing in had a full view of everything. It was a normal, busy day here, with what was easily two dozen men walking around. Most were fully nude or just in a towel, and I recognized plenty that I'd enjoyed quick trysts with here in the past. 

    One of them – a middle-aged daddy older than me – saw me and gave me a wink and a smile, starting to reach for his cock before noticing Eric standing on the other side of me. I almost laughed out loud at how his hand froze about an inch from his dick and his face changed from flirty to worried. I smiled back quickly to let him know everything's okay. He looked relieved and tossed me a last look before heading into the steam room to cruise on someone more available. I had no doubt that if I wanted to, I could follow him in and within a few minutes I'd be leaving a load in his mouth or ass, or maybe getting one from him. I felt my cock chub up a bit at the thought as I stripped off all my clothes, even though I know that, alas, this wouldn't be "that" type of gym visit.

    As Eric quickly changed and put on his shorts, I walked over to the rack of clean robes that were available for guests getting a massage. I grabbed one for myself and selected the smallest one I could find for Eric. Luckily he'd just had a growth spurt so the bottom of the robe didn't reach the floor when he put it on, but the long arms had to be somewhat bunched-up at the shoulder so that he could see his hands. It looked a little comical, but it wasn't like he needed to have the robe on for very long.

    While waiting for me, I noticed my son sitting on the bench and looking left to right, trying to take it all in. He had the typical "kid in a candy store" look… or was I imagining things? I remembered being his age and going to the country club with my dad or my Grandpa Nate, and how I would always stare at the men in the locker room and showers, way before I knew I was gay, or indeed, before I even knew what "gay" was. Was Eric just displaying some normal boyish curiosity, or would he one day follow in my footsteps, and be the one following daddies into the steam room and getting off with them there? 

    The two of us headed to the massage room, which was accessible from the far end of the locker room. I was surprised to find it all decked out for a romantic massage, with lit candles and rose petals in the room, in addition to the normally low lighting and soft music. For a moment, I felt bad that my husband wasn't here to share this moment with me, and I made a mental note to book us another couple's massage as soon as possible.

    The two masseurs were also in the room, handing me and Eric two champagne flutes, filled with champagne and sparkling water respectively. My son smiled and let out a loud "Oooh," probably feeling very grown-up and fancy to be treated this way. His reaction made the rest of us laugh, and I was happy to note the atmosphere in the room wasn't as awkward and I'd feared it might be.

    After a few sips, I set down my champagne and began to untie my robe. I sensed my masseur behind me and then felt his hands at the collar as he helped me slide it off. Eric glanced over at me top to bottom, before taking off his robe as well and letting the much-taller man behind him take it from him and hang it up on the hook. 

    "Lie on your stomach, with your face in the hole right over there," Eric's masseur instructed him. My son did as he was told, and I made the same move to lie on my own massage table, adjusting my cock and balls and making myself comfortable.

    While I figured they wouldn't bother draping Eric with a towel since he was dressed, I was surprised when I didn't feel any fabric get placed on my lower body either. Then again, both of these masseurs had worked on me many times before and they both knew I preferred to stay naked. I let out a loud sigh, and started to melt in relaxation as soon as I felt the therapist's fingers touch my body. He was very talented. There had been some tightness in my lower back recently and without me even mentioning that, he slowly managed to work out the knots. As his hands moved to my shoulders, I felt him tackle some other tension that I hadn't even known was there.

    Meanwhile, Eric's masseur was a little more verbal. He knew this was Eric's first professional massage, so he was making a point to narrate what he was doing and answer my son's questions ("Is it gonna hurt?", "What does that oil smell like?") The masseur's deep voice was extremely soothing, and I remembered how sexy he'd sounded as we thanked one another the last time I was here, right after he'd swallowed my cum at the end of the session.

    Soon enough, I was able to tune out the talking in the room and really lose myself in the pleasure I was feeling. My masseur's strong hands were now fully engaged on my glutes, which I was enjoying immensely. This guy had complimented my ass on multiple occasions in the past, and I was sure he was enjoying himself right now, even if he wasn't being vocal about it. He was letting his fingertips drift more and more into the area between my cheeks as he worked, and I moved my legs apart just slightly more, hoping that would give him the signal to proceed as he saw fit. The message seemed to get across, since I felt his fingers grazing the edge of my hole a few seconds later as he began to work my inner thighs. He was also touching my smooth nut sack quite liberally while he worked, which was helping my cock swell and grow along my hipbone. The pressure it was under in between the table and my body only sped up the process, until I was almost rock hard within a few minutes.

    I heard the bottle of massage oil open again and then felt the masseur's newly lubricated hands resume their work along my ass and the back of my legs. When the fingers returned to the space between my cheeks, I was pleased to feel one of his fingers gently probe at my hole. I immediately relaxed and let him slide inside me, letting out a soft moan. A moment later I was surprised again when he slid in a second finger alongside the first, and I caught a louder moan in my chest before it had a chance to escape. Although moaning out in pleasure wasn't unusual during a massage, I didn't want to go overboard, not with Eric in the room. 

    I did my best to remain silent as I got my hole worked over, and finally had to let out another groan when the hot masseur found my prostate. That also finished the job of getting me fully hard, which might have been his intent all along. After finger-fucking me for a few more moments, the masseur slowly removed his digits from my ass and I heard him speak softly.

    "Time to turn over, David."

    I lay on my stomach and my hard boner, analyzing what I'd just heard.

    "Should I turn over as well?" my son asked next to me.

    "No, Eric, you stay on your stomach a little while longer," his masseur said, and I raised my head just in time to see him move his hands to my son's shoulders and gently but firmly push him down.

    I looked at the two therapists' faces, both with a shit-stirring grin on them. "Oh, so you wanna play, huh?" I thought, and I turned over, displaying my boner in all its rigid glory, standing upright like a flagpole. Eric's masseur looked at it with an especially lusty look, and I could tell he was still kicking himself for losing the coin toss. If he had his way, he'd be swallowing my load again just like the last time I was here.

    Meanwhile, my masseur placed both his fists on my cock and started to pump up and down very slowly. "Mmm," I moaned again, unable to control myself, leaking precum while still making eye contact with the young man massaging my son. With one hand on Eric's shoulder, the masseur used his other hand to grab his own bulge and show me that he was just as hard as I was under the white pants he was wearing.

    As good as this felt, we all knew we needed to finish up sooner rather than later, since we were playing with fire here. After a few minutes, my masseur started to pump my cock harder with his right hand, while sliding his left hand between my asscheeks again, and slipping a finger back inside my hole.

    "Mm. Umpf!" I found myself squirming and trying to hold back from shouting in pleasure, as a huge spurt of cum started to shoot out of my cock, landing all over my body and even hitting my masseur in the face. His hand only jerked my cock faster after that, his finger going deeper inside my ass, milking my prostate until I'd shot out every last drop of jizz. 

    The three of us took a short break to admire the pearly-white load I'd shot all over myself, before my masseur reached for a clean towel to clean me up. After he wiped the cum off my body, he scooped up the jizz that was on his face and brought it to his mouth, and then he picked a fresh towel and placed it over my softening cock. Meanwhile, Eric's masseur untucked his own shirt to cover up his bulge.

    "You can turn around now, Eric," he said to my son, who turned around and made eye contact with me and smiled, before checking out my body real quick. I was grateful that my masseur had placed a towel on my crotch, since I still wasn't fully soft yet. Undoubtedly, Eric would one day be introduced to the concept of a "happy ending," and he might even think back on today with amusement, if he ever learned what really happened. This wasn't the romantic massage with my husband I had planned, but it turned out to be quite memorable in its own way, that's for damn sure.​