Halt! Who Goes There?! (pt. 2)

When we restarted after lunch, naked once again save for our socks, Michael explained how this next exercise would focus on the massage techniques he was going to demonstrate for us. The techniques were a combination of ideas from places as disparate as China, India, the whorehouses of Amsterdam, and Jackin’ World. This would be straight genital massage and we were to focus on nothing more. Forget trying to be impartial, forget focusing on muscle groups, we’d get to those later. This was for the boys’ boys. We were asked to raise our hands for who wanted to go first or second. It was a partnering exercise, each of us with one other person, and the person being massaged would be blindfolded. We wouldn’t get to choose whom. I volunteered to massage first since the idea of some stranger getting intimate…

Let me stop and explain something here. There are guys you play with and guys you get to know and still other guys you just have sex with. Previous to this, I had only three sexual liaisons with guys I had known to some degree and trusted. All others had been quick fuck buddies and I wasn’t too keen on letting some stranger play with my parts out in the open. I’d be happy to fuck him but sportfucking isn’t an intimate pursuit like this would be. By going first I’d get to delay the moment of truth.

So I was paired with Scotty. Scotty is a big, tall, grinning Texan of a guy with fair features that had gone red with exertion, little body hair, and a very winning smile. I had to sit back to back with another guy while I hauled Scotty’s groin into my lap and practice what I had just learned. I can do that.

As Scotty was adjusting himself I felt a bit silly about having another guy’s crotch this close without actually immediately doing anything so I watched Michael as he explained what we would be doing and how we would be doing it. He walked around checking everyone’s position and admonished me to pull Scotty up even closer into my lap with his legs around my waist. He was, it seems, right over my cock. His delightfully furry ass crack was tickling my dick. This wasn’t good and immediately I tried to keep from getting hard. See, part of my façade of comfort is to not get hard. A guy can look at me and see that I’m small flaccid, but it leaves him guessing that maybe my dick inflates to average or better size when I’m hard. This little exercise would ruin that little fantasy. Still, I dug into it. Michael put on some music, passed around the warmed coconut oil, and to town I went. Scotty got hard even before I touched him but that was OK. He had a good sized cock so there was a lot to work with and it wasn’t much effort. At the front of the room Michael guided us through various techniques, advised us to watch for signs of what our partners really liked, and to keep our touches varied and active. He emphasized the importance of going slowly and paying attention to what we were doing. The goal was not to orgasm, though if someone did we were to raise our hands and someone would come around with tissues, but to focus on the technique of genitals massage. Orgasm was not the point of anything we did and, if someone got close, they were asked to warn their partner until the feeling subsided. We were to continue even if it did happen because, hey, guys can’t always control everything and it’s just a fact of life. There was no good or bad about it, no pressure to perform what we were doing to result in the effect of orgasm. I have to admit, it was fun. Here in the bright light of day, with no pressure to get Scotty to shoot a load, with my dick constantly rising and falling as it rode his ass crack, I could concentrate on what I was doing and enjoy it. Scotty certainly did. Everything that Michael was saying was to us, the guys doing the massage. The men on the floor had nothing to do but sit back, enjoy the ride, and possibly warn us if they were reaching orgasm. During all this Michael explained how we were building energy within the root charka and then dispersing it to other points of the body. Not sure about that, I took him at his word and focused on Scotty’s big goofy grin underneath his blindfold. The more he grinned, the more, I reasoned, he liked it.

The entire exercise lasted 50 minutes but it didn’t feel like it at all. It went very quickly. By the end of this session Scotty was just like putty, grinning very happily and I found myself deeply pleased with…. drumroll please…. Myself! It turns out I hadn’t botched this at all, hadn’t been even mediocre. He had truly liked what I had… given?...him. Me giving somebody pleasure without my dick or mouth is a novel concept to me. That I had made this guy look at me like I was the fountain of all good things struck me very hard and suddenly. There was no artifice to his look or actions, he just genuinely thanked me and kept saying how wonderful it felt. All I had done before was give a few quick handjobs, nothing like this, yet here he made me feel like I was masterful at something. Whether directly or indirectly, there was no getting around it. This was intimate.

I went out into the stairway to smoke a cigarette in my towel after that. Chatted with some nice girls who lived upstairs and weren’t the least bit shocked to see a naked man standing in their stairwell. As I had assured myself, they had seen it all before. Sometimes you just have to love New York.

My brief break was over and it was time to go back in. It was my turn to be massaged by Scotty. This turn around scenario had me filled with dread. There was no way I wasn’t going to get hard for everyone to see, but something else filled me with dread. This was too intimate, this was too revealing. Of what? Of my dick? Is that all I was worried about? Anyway I didn’t have time to think about it. Michael went through his spiel again as Scotty hauled me right up against his abs in one smooth movement. No wiggle room here, my groin and crotch were wide open and….. vulnerable. He would see everything, every imperfection, every hair, every blemish, everything. This wasn’t a quick fuck or blowjob in a poorly lit room. I grabbed the blindfold and put it on, hiding like Wile E. Coyote behind the window shade as the train approached. I might not be able to hide my nads, but I could hide my eyes and pretend what was happening wasn’t. I lay back as Scotty started oiling me up. The warm coconut oil felt amazing. There is nothing like it. It was so smooth, soft, and warm that I got a raging hard-on instantly. Scotty was gentle, moved slowly, he was listening to Michael.

And then something really strange happened that had never happened to me before.

I let go.

My back and neck melted into the towel, my breathing slowed, and from my shoulders down, I felt the tension in my body just flow away into the floor. I didn’t hear Michael, wasn’t particularly aware of Scotty, I just floated in a suspension of ether feeling the most remarkable things coming from my genitals. I have a really supersensitive spot right at and just behind the bottom of my scrotum and Scotty gently stroked it with feather-light fingertips. Immediately a sensation, a sheer line of heat ran from my balls, up my back, and into my head. My cock was not neglected either as he worked on it. Sometimes firm, sometimes soft, I felt so many intense sensations that there were times my whole body jerked in response. All these feelings I never knew, never suspected I had, came rushing through the rest of my body. The genitals were the focus, yes, but it seemed they were no more important to the act then just being a conveyor of the sensations which had overwhelmed me. I never came close to ejaculation and, indeed, it’s rare that men do despite the fact that in any other sort of environment this sort of thing would result in a Krakatoa of semen. All this I discovered, occurred within only the first few minutes. I went away somewhere during that time and didn’t come back until Scotty nudged me saying it our time was up. Pulling off the blindfold I realized it was still afternoon, still the same room, still the same people, and there was Scotty grinning just as widely as before. I hadn’t fallen asleep but what had happened…… I wasn’t sure.

The day’s closing circle and following events were just a blur. I only remember Michael saying that we should try to take a bath, go swimming, get in a hot tub, even a shower. Get under water because that helps with the processing of what’s taking place. I got dressed, drove the two and a half hours home, and straight away took a long hot bath with the lights off. I didn’t eat a thing. I was in shock and didn’t know why.