TY

 

Why am I Googling `auras'?

It's because of a guy that I met last weekend on my first excursion to a nudist beach.

No, I couldn't see his aura but, after he orchestrated a way to speak with me privately, he told me that he could see mine.

Getting to talk to me was a pretty clever plan, really, but it required some skill on his part. With his frisbee.

He was one of the two frisbee throwers on the beach. Naked of course!

I thought that throwing and catching a frisbee was just an excuse for the pair of them to parade their stuff in front of dozens of naked others.

At one time, one of the frisbee catchers, collided with me. Well, Almost. But he would have, if I hadn't held up my hands to arrest the momentum of his body. I think he enjoyed that! He was the cute one. The blond one. Great muscle tone! Well-hung too, for a teenager.

A while later, when I was just chest-deep in the surf, chatting with a friend, the blond teenager kept looking in my direction. Why? Well, I did figure that he wasn't on life-guard duty to prevent me from drowning! Obviously, it was for another reason!

As I left the water, I saw the frisbee coming directly at me. I caught it and threw it back at him, straight to his hand. My accuracy even drew his applause.

Then, later still, while I was walking along the beach and talking, the same frisbee simply landed at my feet, except it now had a name on it, `Ty', and a phone number. It had to be his!

Despite looking around, I couldn't see him.

So, after a refreshing shower at home, and a cup of coffee, I rang the number, to arrange the return of his yellow frisbee. Well, maybe that wasn't the only reason. I was intrigued why someone so young and so good looking would go out of his way to deliver his name and phone number to me by `frisbee mail'.

Anyway, mission accomplished, from his perspective! We had ended up talking, privately, away from his friend and away from my friend (actually, it was one of my massage clients who had persuaded me to join him at the beach in the first place).

Our phone conversation established a few things: firstly, that he thought I had a good body; secondly, that he was attracted by my `bright aura'; and thirdly, that I could meet him at the beach the following Saturday, which is today, to return his frisbee. Oh, and fourthly, so that he could explain `auras' to me, generally, and mine specifically.

Intriguing!

However, I want to go into that conversation with at least a basic knowledge of auras, so that I can understand what he might say, and not appear stupid. Well, not ignorant.

What is Google telling me about auras?

Auras: the waves of energy that you radiate; the vibes that you give off; many people can feel them, a few claim that they can `see' them. Auras can have different `layers' of colour, and different intensities.

It's all very interesting, but I get lost somewhere in the explanation of the various colours and how they are related to different parts of the body. However, to put it simply, a bright aura relates to strong energy and a dull aura to weak energy. I get that bit! Maybe.

 

Armed with a towel, a backpack in which to stash all of my clothing, plus my new basic knowledge of auras and Ty's yellow frisbee, I head off to the beach.

The track down through the bush is not as intimidating as it was a week ago. Neither is the expanse of sand and the numerous naked men and a few women, even though there are definite voyeurs who appear to have positioned themselves to ogle every new `body' that appears on the sand, and strips off his clothing.

To take my mind off taking my clothes off, at the same time I also scan the beach for a blond, well-hung teenager. I'm surprised to observe so many today, but not the right one.

So, with backpack over my shoulder and yellow frisbee in my hand, I walk towards the spot where Dave and I spread our towels last Saturday.

And there he is! Reclining. Watching. Waiting.

"Hi, Rob," he says, rising to greet me. "I saw you coming."

"Hello Ty," I reply, extending my fist for him to bump. "How could you tell that it was me coming towards you amongst all of these bodies? And, how did you know that I'd come to this spot?"

"Let's just say," he tells me, "that I thought you might be a creature of habit! Besides, your aura was a dead give-away from the time you emerged from the track. And, carrying my yellow frisbee sealed the deal!"

"About the aura thing..." I start.

"Hey, take the weight off your feet first," he says. "Spread your towel and we can talk."

I drop my backpack and spread my towel next to Ty's.

He lowers himself onto his towel and reclines, face-up. However, when I assume a similar pose to his, exposing my manhood to the world, and looking at his, and his youthful body, it's impossible to prevent mine from chunking up.

He notices.

"Don't worry about it," he tells me. "I've seen more stiffs here in a day than I would in a tour of the city morgue. If you'd be more comfortable, we can lie on our fronts, and still talk."

I turn over.

Ty copies me, laying himself as close to me as he can, while still on his own towel. "It was time to get some sun on the other side anyway," he says, turning his head and smiling at me.

I hadn't noticed the sprinkling of freckles across his nose before. Cute! Or the tightness of his closely-cropped blond curls. Or that his eyes are actually deep blue. Or the blond fuzz on his top lip and on his lightly-cleft chin. Maybe I had been focussing elsewhere!

Ty gives me the quick (thankfully) version of auras, reinforcing what I gleaned from Google. However, what he says next, stuns me.

"And yours," he continues, "is rare, in my experience. Its brightness and colours tell me that you not only have an extremely high energy output, but that you are sensitive, considerate and caring, curious and adventurous, very friendly and highly intelligent."

"Wow!" I say. Then, not wanting to appear too egocentric by acknowledging the things that he has listed, I ask, "But what if I'm actually a mean, nasty and hurtful person who simply capitalises on opportunities at the expense of other people."

He laughs. "But you're not! Are you?"

"How can you be sure?" I put to him.

"Because your aura would be totally different!" he says, grinning. "Auras don't lie."

I look at him blankly.

He says, "Do you ever get various feelings about different people when you are with them? Like whether they are either happy or depressed? Or that some people seem to `charge your batteries' while others are a real `drain' on you, and painful to be around?"

"All of the time," I tell him. "In my line of work, I can feel a difference in people as soon as they come into my private clinic room at home. And, some are always bubbly while others are just as often `out of sorts'."

"Spot on!" Ty replies. "So, what is it that you do? For work?"

"I'm a massage therapist," I tell him. "And aim is to ease people's pain and to make them feel healthier and happier."

"And, do you think that you can actually feel people's different energies, even if they change?" he asks.

"I hadn't thought about it," I reply. "But, after what you've told me, you're right. I can."

"So," he says, giving me his summary, "What you can feel, I can also see. It's simple! Positive or negative, as well as a certain intensity."

"No!" I reply, shaking my head with incredulous acceptance.

"Yes!" he informs me. Then he adds, "And, just before you started to get an erection, your aura brightened considerably. What were you feeling at that moment, before embarrassment took over?"

"In a word," I reply, "excited."

"I won't ask you why, because I don't have to," he says, grinning.

"Thanks," I reply.

"And I can also tell when people are telling lies," he continues. "Their words might say one thing, but their aura gives them away. It becomes dull, from lack of sincerity."

"Wow!" I say, and I have to ask in response, "So what is it that do you do, apart from being a human lie detector?"

"Still at high school," he replies. "One more year to go after this one. And then I'd like to go to university and study law and be a lawyer then a barrister then a magistrate or judge. Nobody would get away with telling lies to me!"

Despite his maturity and grown-up body, up close, face to face, I can see his youthfulness!

"Do your parents know that you come here?" I put to him, with some concern for his vulnerability.

"Yeah," he answers. "I got `caught' here one day by one of dad's work mates."

"And he ratted on you to your dad?" I ask.

"Nah. Nothing like that. I slipped up over dinner one Saturday night last year. I let out that I had seen Lionel at the beach. Dad looked at me and said, `But Lionel only goes to the nudist beach. He's told all of us that at work.' And, then, I had a lot of explaining to do!"

"Was that awkward? What happened?" I ask.

"It wasn't as bad as I had feared," he replies. "And dad said that he and mum had wondered about me for a few years, with no girlfriends, lots of sleepovers with mates and no `girlie' magazines under my pillow! They just didn't know how to raise the topic with me."

"So, is this the only beach that you come to?" I ask.

"No, not really," he replies. "I just like the freedom of this one. And the scenery." He grins.

"And do you make lots of new friends here?" I put to him.

"Nah," he insists. "I only come here when I'm with one of my mates. That was one of mum's rules, when I told her where I was going. It's safer."

"What about today?" I ask. "Did you come with a mate?"

"Sure," he replies. "He called by my house to pick me up."

"Where is he now?" I ask, wondering whether or not we are being observed by somebody.

"I got him to drop me off, and told him that I would ring him to come and pick me up." Ty responds. "Then, when he drives me home, he can come in, say hello to my mum and have something to eat. No problem."

"Does he know why you wanted to be here, alone, without him?" I ask.

"Yeah!" Ty replies. "He was here with me last week. He was the one who helped me to `run into you' by throwing the frisbee near you the first time."

I'm about to ask the obvious question about his friend being trusted to `keep quiet' about not staying with him, when Ty continues, "And he won't say anything. Because, if he did, he knows that a few things about him might accidentally leak out."

"Blackmail!" I say.

"Insurance!" he responds.

"Do you feel like a quick dip in the surf?" I ask, feeling confident that my cock has settled down, and so walking across the sand wouldn't be as embarrassing as a stiff in a morgue. LOL.

 

We spend a bit of time in the water. Swimming. Actually, body surfing, and he's good at it.

We pause for a breather, standing waist-deep, and Ty asks, "So, a massage therapist, eh?"

"Yes," I reply. "So, I'm accustomed to seeing semi-naked bodies."

"And do they all have the same effect on you, as seeing my naked body did earlier?" he asks.

I answer, "No sense in lying to you, is there? You'd `detect' it straight away!"

He grins at me.

"Well, the truth is `No'. They don't all have the same effect on me." Then I add, "But some do."

"And I assume that you have no clients this afternoon, right?" he says. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"That's true!" I tell him. "I intentionally took no bookings for this afternoon to come here."

"Would you like to massage me, then?" he asks. "In your private clinic room at home?"

He has remembered my words, and repeated them back to me.

"Do you mind me asking how old you are?" I put to him.

"I'm sixteen," he replies. "I don't have a driver's licence yet, but I'm old enough to know what I want. Is that OK?"

"Yes, it is," I tell him. "I just wanted to make sure that you knew what you were doing and that I wouldn't be breaking the law."

He adds, "And, my mates all know that I don't fuck, but that everything else is OK."

I'm stunned by his forwardness.

"So, let me get this straight," I put to him. "You'd like to come back to my house, have me give you a massage and maybe a happy ending?"

"Either a hand job or a blow job would be fine," he replies. "I trust you. I knew that I could, because of your aura, but I hadn't figured on you being a massage therapist. That's a bonus!"

"So, your plan, even from last week, was to get me alone and do stuff with me?" I ask.

"I was hopeful of either doing something, or planning to meet you sometime," he says. Then he adds, "You have a great body too, you know!" Then he smirks, "Hey, do you like blow jobs?"

I reply, "I think that we'd better get out now, before it becomes too embarrassing to walk across the sand in full view of all those people!"

Ty tells me that if I can drop him at the nearest Macdonald's when we've finished, he will tell his mate that he got a lift, and ask to be picked up there. I won't have to drop him back at the beach, and his mate won't know where my place is or what we did.

The ride back to my place is interesting. He has his nylon shorts on, and, riding up, they highlight the now-concealed bulk of his cock and balls. Very sensual!

He tells me of his early attraction to other boys which resulted in `grabbing games' and then mutual holding and fondling and, when he hit puberty, in mutual masturbation. And, that he has a close bunch of mates who regularly `enjoy each other's company'. But no fucking!

"But, why hit on me, a total stranger?" I ask.

"None of my mates has an aura as bright as yours," he replies. "So, I knew that you'd be a lot of fun. Safe fun."

He reaches across, laying his hand on my lap. "Now, how did I know that you'd be hard?" he chuckles. Then he takes it back and says, "I'll leave you to concentrate on driving!"

I can feel his energy, even though I can't see it! And I also feel my cock twitch in anticipation of an exciting afternoon.

 

We take the side entrance at my place.

"Mind if I use your toilet?" Ty asks as we pass the ensuite to my `private clinic room'.

I continue, to ensure that the massage table is ready, and put on some `mood' music.

I hear the toilet flush, the wash basin water run, and Ty appears.

With what I already know of him, I expected him to come out naked. I look at his lower body, and my face probably asks the question, without me having to use words.

"My mates like to feel me up before they take my shorts or undies off," he says, matter-of-factly. "What about you?"

I can't lie to him. He'd know!

"Thanks," I reply, then I throw his question back at him, "What about you?"

"Yeah," he tells me. "I saw you put on some Speedos at the beach You can leave them on for now. But the rest can come off."

I've never had someone who is virtually a complete stranger, a 16-year old what's more, behave in such a forward manner. I should be shocked, but I find it exciting, and remove everything except my chunking swimmers.

He has a quick feel of my bulk. "Nice!" he comments, then stands, pelvis forward, inviting me to reciprocate.

I accept his offer, but I don't rush it and I allow myself the time to enjoy feeling his ample cock swell from a bit plumped to rigid.

"Nice touch!" he says. "You want to take these off me now?"

"Not so fast!" I tell him. "Lay yourself, face-down on the massage table. Face in the hole at this end, feet over the bolster at that end. And we will go at my speed!"

"Can I at least take your Speedos off, first?" he asks, and appears surprised when I tell him `No'.

He grins. I sense that he appreciates me taking back control of the situation. And, I'll bet that this will be a different experience for him to when he plays with his mates. With someone else calling the shots!

I remove the bolster. His legs are long enough for his feet to hang over the edge of the table. However, I do lay a folded towel under his shins and ankles.

I run my fingertips the length of his body. Down and up. Both sides and down the middle. Multiple times.

"Nice foreplay!" I hear emanate from below the table.

I gently slap his firm backside. "Shhh!" I tell him. "Be quiet. Relax. You'll enjoy it more."

I repeat the de-sensitising of his body, this time with the flats of my fingers and the palms of my hands.

He takes a breath as though he is about to speak.

I slap his backside again. "Don't say anything!" I tell him, then in response to a happy humming sound from him, I add, "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

An affirmative hum ensues.

I take a small hand towel, tuck it into the waistband of his shorts to protect them from massage oil, and lower them to below his backside.

Another positive non-verbal!

I enjoy massaging his tanned, flawless skin and spend additional time on his round, firm glutes, while not forgetting his legs and the soles of his feet.

His audible breathing reminds me of a cat purring.

"You like this?" I ask him.

"Hmmm, Yeah," he answers.

"Better than a quick wank with a mate?" I add.

"Yeah!" I hear as he exhales.

"Then you'll enjoy the next bit," I tell him, removing the towel but leaving his glutes exposed, and wiping off any excess oil that his body hasn't absorbed. "Turn over."

Ty fixes his eyes on mine, grins, and slowly rolls over, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time.

It only takes a glance from me to the front of his shorts to confirm that he has enjoyed having my hands on his body.

He doesn't look down, but keeps watching me for my reaction.

"Nice," I tell him, looking deliberately at his shorts and back to his face.

He grins, raising his head and looking at the front of my Speedos. "Also nice," he says, and reaches for them.

"Not yet!" I say. "Let me do a bit more for you, first."

He pulls a contrived pout, then grins and relaxes his head back onto the table.

Again, I run my fingertips the length of his body, between his legs on the way up, and continue to his nipples. Multiple times.

Then, instead of tucking the towel into the waistband of his shorts, I take hold of them and pull them slowly towards his feet. His sandy pubic hair emerges. Then the engorged base of his cock. I continue lowering the waistband, over his enviable teenage erection and, as it springs free, his broad, hairless balls are exposed. And the shorts come all the way off.

He raises his head, looks at my Speedos and then at my face.

I shake my head, again intercepting his seeking hand, and return it alongside his body.

I resume rubbing his now fully-naked body, without avoiding anything.

And then I add oil.

And my hands gradually focus on his erection.

I add more oil and go slowly.

The firmness of my grip is matched by his steely stiffness under silky skin.

When his pleasure becomes very vocal, I stop, and tell him, "Now."

He lifts his head, to see what I'm talking about.

With me holding the strings to my Speedos, he needs no further hints.

He almost springs off the massage table, and stands behind me. He reaches around and puts one hand on my stomach and, with the other, plays with my cock and balls through the thin material. Then he pauses to pull them down, and resumes playing, with no material now separating his hand and my skin.

While continuing to stand behind me, he rests (no, presses) his body against mine, with his cock standing along the crack between my glutes.

He begins two actions, proving that 16-year old guys can multi-task: sliding his oiled cock up and down my crack, while giving me a good wank.

"Are you enjoying this?" I ask him.

"Hell, yeah!" he answers, then pauses and asks, "Why? Aren't you?"

"I'd prefer it if you went slower," I say. "Is that how you and your mates do it?"

"Not always," he answers. "But you've got me so stirred up that I'm not sure how long I can last."

"Then why don't you swap to massaging me, like I was doing to you?" I tell him.

He looks stunned.

I lay myself, face-up, on the table. "The oil's there," I say, pointing.

He ignores the oil, choosing instead to simply use his hands to trace the contours of my body; my pecs, my defined abs and my cock. He cups my balls and plays with them. Then, without warning, he grasps my erection and directs his mouth onto it.

He runs his hot lips up and down a few times and then pulls back. "You did tell me that you'd enjoy a blow job, didn't you?" he asks.

"I don't remember saying that," I tell him. "But I'm not going to object!"

He resumes what he was doing, using his tongue, his lips, sucking, pushing, humming, varying his angle.

He's good! And gets me very excited. Tingling.

"Done this once or twice before, have you?" I ask.

His only response is to take my entire length right in.

Gasping with pleasure, I say, "I'll take that as a `yes'."

He pulls back, looks at my face, and grins, "That got you glowing, didn't it?"

I reply, "You won't want to do that too much, or I'll cum before you do!"

"Do you have a place where we can 69?" he asks. "This massage table is too narrow for the both of us."

"Are you suggesting that you want me to take you to my bedroom?" I put to him.

"Perfect! Hey! Great idea!" he says, and stands back from the table.

I still can't believe that this is happening! But I'm not resisting!

I grab a towel for the bed and a hand towel, for `after'.

We begin side by side, playing with each other's stiffness and balls. This brings back so many memories, and I am transported back to my teenage years and my special friend, Gino.

I decide to take the lead.

I turn towards him, lick his nipples, then run my tongue down the middle of his abs. I avoid his cock and, instead focus on his balls, licking them and taking one at a time into my mouth, caressing them gently.

I lick up his erection, take it into my mouth, suck a few times and then turn myself 180 degrees to him.

I reckon that he's the one glowing now. I can feel it. He doesn't need any encouragement to resume his previous actions on me.

Having his hand on my backside, holding me in place while giving me a very memorable blow job, prompts me to do the same to him. My fingers find their way between his glutes.

"Remember," he says, pulling his mouth off me, "no fucking."

"I know that," I tell him. "You can trust me."

"I know that!" he replies. "Which is why I'm here with you in the first place."

We resume enjoying each other's body, giving and receiving pleasure.

"I'm really close," he tells me, gasping.

"Me too," I answer.

"Do you want to swallow?" he asks. "I will if you will."

"I have a better idea," I tell him.

I turn myself back around, lie on my back and urge his body onto mine, face to face.

"I reckon that I can come, just by us frotting together," I say. "We're slippery enough."

I let him take the lead again. He rests his full weight onto me and begins to slide his erection against me. His action becomes frenzied and he gasps, "Cumming!"

Feeling the spasms of his hot body, the wetness of his ejaculations between us and the guttural sounds that he is making, my body succumbs. Multiple spurts.

When our bodies relax, he says, "Holy shit! That was good! Thank you, Rob. Way better than a quick wank with my mates!"

He laughs. "You're glowing! I think that you might be radioactive!"

"I can feel it," I say. "You too."

We cuddle for a while and I'm shocked when he asks, "Rob, do you know how to fuck a guy?"

"Why?" I ask, somewhat apprehensive at the question from this very desirable, precocious and highly energetic teenager.

He replies, softly in my ear, as if that would prevent somebody else from hearing, "One day, when I'm ready, I'd like you to be my first. Would you?"

Youthful, but definitely not naïve!

I pause. "What's my aura telling you?" I answer him. And I kiss him.

He's good at that doing that too!

 

 

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If you like these stories, please take a couple of minutes to email me at
rob.zz@hotmail.com

I do try to reply to everyone. Please be patient.

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It is my intention to write a `massaging' story for each letter of the alphabet.
Nifty has already posted `Adam', `Brock', `Callum', `Dylan', `Evan', `Flynn', `Gino' `Hayden', `Isaac', `Josh', `Karl', `Liam', `Marco', `Nate', `Oliver', `Paulo', `Quade', `Ronnie' and `Simon'.
(I think that `Gino' is one of my better works; however, it's in a different location:) http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/massaging-gino/

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