Date: Sun, 8 Jan 2017 22:00:59 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Capitol Massage

Capitol Massage

By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you do not like that, DO NOT
read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, and is
not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  I have made no effort
to portray safe sex practices. If you have any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

I am Marco Giovanni. I came to the United States in 1900 and moved to
Philadelphia. I established Capitol Massage in 1907.  It has been a fixture
of local life since then. We have never been the subject of scandal or
disrepute. Since 1907, there have been scores if not hundreds of massage
parlors in the city, few survived. Typically most were thinly disguised
prostitution operations. Most employed busty women with minimal training in
massage.

My employees are well trained and often muscular men. We also provide a
scrupulously clean steam room and showers.  While my clientele are mostly
businessmen and professionals, we also serve men in the building trades and
those who did heavy physical labor. In Italy, the Giovanni's had been stone
masons and I wanted to help men with the physical ailments associated with
those jobs.

I am happily married with five children, four girls and one boy. I am not a
handsome man, but I am all man. I am of medium height, stocky and look like
I am fat. It is not fat; it is all muscle.

I have an aqlmost permanent five o'clock shadow that appears around 10:30
or 11:00.  I have a Mediterranean skin tone and every inch of my body is
covered in hair. My son inherited those physical characteristics.  My
daughters were smart, ambitious and stunning beauties. They have married
well and have had impressive careers.

I have many long-term clients who use our services weekly or monthly. In
the steamy summer days, some men just stop in for a steam and a shower to
clean up after work, before an evening engagement. The Capitol was is less
expensive than the private clubs, but not as public as the YMCA.

My business sits on a quiet side street near the business district. Men
come and go quietly and the neighbors hardly know we are there. As one
might suspect, a good portion of my clients were bachelors, and many lived
in rooming-boarding houses as was typical of bachelor men.

We opened for business at 11:00 in the morning and closed at 10:00.  My
wife and five children need to be fed, clothed and housed. I confess that I
like the quiet of the business compared to the continuous uproar typical of
a large family.

In 1907, men like Oscar Wilde and his effete type were known, but most
people assumed they were all "artistic."  I am not artistic, but I like and
need sex. I think my urges are greater than in many men.  I joked that I
made love to my wife five times and have five children. I am afraid my seed
is more potent than most.  My mother died after her ninth child. I am not
going to kill my wife to meet my needs.

Massage is intimate.  My clients are need to be naked and none were used to
physical contact. Some became aroused. I pretended I didn't notice that,
but I did notice that the men who were easily aroused became more regular
customers. I am no fool. My hand might make a glancing touch to a man's
private places. I suggested the massage might be better with oils and
complete nudity was required to apply the oils.

These men always returned for more sessions.  I am not particularly
attracted to men, but the sexual tension excited me. When I massaged with
oil, I applied it to the genitals. If they weren't erect when they started
the were when I finished. I found that I was as excited as my client.

This excitement was not entirely new to me. When I was in Italy, my Uncle's
valet used to look after me after my mother's death on our housekeeper's
day off.  Arturo seemed old to me and he took me to the Turkish baths
regularly.  This was in the afternoon when the place was almost empty. We
sat in a dark corner and talked. While we talked, he played with his
privates. At first, he just rearranged them but he soon stroked his tool to
life.

My own cock had just grown to be nearly full size. I was no longer a
boy. When Arturo's cock was hard, mine grew on its own, without me touching
it. "You have a beautiful member," he said.  "You have become a man. Have
you had an orgasm yet?" I didn't know what an orgasm was, so I said no.

"Does it ever spurt man seed? It's a white cream," Arturo whispered. I said
that it hadn't. He smiled. "If you had you would know it; it is very
pleasurable."

I asked how it happened. He told me to stroke my tool the way he did. The
very pleasurable aspect of an orgasm sounded good, so I tried it. After a
few minutes I shot off. Arturo quickly leaned over and took my cock into
his mouth and ate my cock cream. He kept it in his mouth after the
orgasm. He then took my entire cock into his mouth and grabbed the shaft
with his lips tightly. He then pulled away. I shot off again.

"Was that what was supposed to happen?" I asked. I knew it felt good, but
it was totally unexpected.

"That is exactly what was supposed to happen. All your equipment is in fine
working order and your man seed is thick and creamy. All is well," he
explained. He did tell me to not tell anyone about it. This was man-to-man
stuff, not son-to-father stuff. I knew even then that wasn't true, but I
had no intention to tell anyone about it. When I went to the Turkish bath
with Arturo, it was good every time.

He told me about sex and how to get women pregnant. He was clear about why
my mother died too. He was repeating what he heard from My Uncle, my
mother's brother. He blamed my father for her death. They were English and
he felt my father was too crude and sexually demanding for my delicate
mother. At home we children spoke English and Italian, that is why I speak
English with a English accent.

There were no women in the bath and Arturo disliked whores and brothels. He
wanted me to know about sex. He found a friend at the bath, Massimo, who
let me use his ass in place of a woman's parts. Afterwards, Arturo told me
I was a good fucker and the man liked it. I was soon used to fucking
Massimo and the bath's attendant, Luigi. I became quite skilled.
Eventually, my uncle moved to Rome and took Arturo with him. That was about
the time when I met my future wife and was soon courting her.  I did
remember what he had taught me.

I know that massage is a treatment for tight muscles and stress induced
aches and pains. I know some masseurs believe there are mystic and fantasy
aspects of massage. I have worked with men who talked of auras and inner
peace. That seems silly to me.  A massage and an orgasm is a good way to
relax and calm down after a difficult day.

Massaging is hard, physical work. I am skilled at it and soon had a good
sized clientele. In the United States men are unused to taking their
clothes off, and seemed to fear nudity. Europeans are more tolerant of
nudity. It took me a while the get used to American customs and
prudery. Many were uneasy at being nude or near nude, but they also were
titillated and excited.

As I mentioned, I have my own needs, but I was most careful about acting on
them. My first success was with Jack Wittington, one of my most regular
clients. He was a middle aged, bachelor brick layer. I charged 5 cents for
a shower and 20 cents for a massage. At that time, $1.00 a day was
considered good pay, so that was real money. He normally came in Saturday
morning, first thing. He showered and came in for a massage. At first, he
hadn't wanted to get naked, but I told him it was just like skinny dipping
in a bedroom instead of a pond. He thought that was funny. When I massaged
him while naked, he tended to get excited quickly and stay excited.

He needed the massage. Usually he was stiff as a board. After four
conventional massages, as we neared the end of the massage, I concentrated
in his private parts. He had a good-sized cock and huge balls. I had
touched them before. He didn't object the first time when I touched his
privates. Other times I touched them he moaned and shivered.

When I touched his cock and balls, I told him his cock was leaking. He said
he was sorry about that. I told him he was leaking because his balls were
over filled and that I could take care of that if he wanted. He didn't
object.

He was big and pale, but when is cockhead emerged from his foreskin, it was
a lovely shade of lavender, hard and shiny. I had one hand stroking his
cock and the other hand massaging his balls. That hand slipped and rubbed
his tender asshole. I felt him tense up and shiver. I leaned over and
wrapped my lips around his cock head. A second or two later the entire
contents of his balls were in my mouth.

I hadn't tasted man seed since Arturo twenty years earlier. It was better
than I remembered it. Jack's sperm brought back many good old memories. As
his cock spurted, I felt close to Jack the way I had felt with Arturo. I
tried Arturo's old trick of taking the entire cock into my mouth and then
pulling away. I was surprised that Jack reacted the same way I had years
earlier. He had another ejaculation.

Jack was not an emotional man, but he was effusive in his praise for my
services. He felt good, relaxed and limber. I licked the cock drool before
he tried to get up. Again, he shivered in pleasure.

"I've never felt anything so good in my life," he said in a whisper. "Was
it good for you?"

"It was good, a real treat," I said. "To tell you the truth, I am
embarrassed to tell you how much I enjoyed it."  Jack smiled, got dressed
and left.

Being a masseur is a rather boring and repetitive job. I was doing well at
it, but it was tiring and often I need a massage at the end of the day. My
little adventure with Jack seemed to revitalize me. I felt a little of the
excitement of the hunt.

Fortunately, I am a both a good judge of character and a most cautious
man. I knew this sort of adventure had to be rare. If any word got out, it
could be disastrous. I knew there would be no problem with Jack.

A month later, Phineas Montague came in for a massage.  He was a dandy from
a good, old family. His family had once been wealthy, but his wife was an
heiress of considerable means. As soon as I had him on his belly massaging
his back I knew he was excited. He was nude with a towel across his ass.

He had a back problem and I did what I could. After a while I told him that
if he needed real relief I would need to massage his buttocks. I asked if
it would be too indelicate if I removed the towel. He told me to go
ahead. He shivered a little when I first touched his buttocks. Later when
he turned over, he was fully erect. He apologized.

"We don't have much control over some of our extremities, do we. It happens
all the time," I said.  "There is no need to apologize,". I finished the
massage with minimal genital contact. I told him if his back wasn't better
to come back.

"Do you give guarantees?" he asked. I told him no, but I did like satisfied
clients. When I said satisfied, I saw a look in his eyes. I think he was
thinking about a different sort of satisfaction. Five days later he was
back. He went to the steam room first. When he came in for the massage, he
was partially erect. This time there was no towel. It was a hot day and I
took off my shirt. He saw me and clearly liked what he saw. He asked me if
I was familiar with Mr. Darwin's books. I said yes. Phineas was pale,
slender and hairless other than for his pubic bush. Apparently, he thought
I might be the missing link. In his mind that was a good thing.

He told me that his father had been a real man and had been disappointed in
his son. Marrying an heiress was his greatest achievement. He had saved the
family from ruin. I massaged his back, concentrating on his backbone and
the associated muscles.

When I was massaging his buttocks, my hand strayed and touched his asshole,
he moaned. I completed the massage without any more contact with his
private parts. He was back in three days with the same back problem. I work
with enough men to know how they react with a real back problem. They are
on pins and needles; afraid I will move them the wrong way.  Phineas did
not have a back problem.

I concentrated on his back and spine. I massaged his buttocks. This time I
included his ass crack and hole. Arturo had let me finger his ass so I
could feel his magic nut. I used my cock to massage Massimo's little nut to
great effect. That organ I now know is the prostate.

I told Phineas, his sphincter was too tight and that might be part of his
problem. I told him to relax his ass. My finger found the little nut and
applied pressure to it. Like most men, he didn't know the gland existed and
had no idea what it could do. The pleasure was so intense he almost passed
out. It is not every day a man finds a new sex organ. I finished the
massage and let him go home. I did not want to go too far too fast.

I was sure he would return, but didn't know how long it would be. The next
day I had a new client, Biff Johnson. Biff was an athlete and football
player at a local college. He was their star player and while the college
was small this was important to them. Biff was a twenty-one-year-old
country boy. He did not seem well educated or sophisticated, but he told me
he took three courses a semester. They wanted him to stay in college for an
extra year to play football.

Biff was a mass of aches, pains and injuries. He loved the steam room,
which was lacking at his college. He had no problem being naked. He was
proud of his body and did not mind showing it off.

He did not have a curious or inquiring mind. His family were members of a
small church that regarded knowledge as sin. He did whatever I told him to
do without question. The steam room had made him limber and flexible. He
seemed to think this was nearly magic and that I was a magician.

I am not a conniving man. I knew I could play Arturo's role with Biff,
introducing him to man sex unknowingly. That would have been unfair. I
complimented him on his superb musculature.  Biff glowed with pleasure.

He liked the massage and did not mind my limited contact with his
privates. I told him I massaged the entire body and he accepted that.  He
returned to college moving well with almost no pain. I was surprised when
he wanted another massage two days later before a big game.

I was filled up that day, but he asked if I could see him after hours.  I
said yes. He came in at 9:00 on Friday night and went to the steam room. I
finished with my last client at 9:15. It took me no more than two or three
minutes to know that his problem was tenseness about the game, not a muscle
problem.  He needed to relax. While I massaged him my hand strayed closer
and closer to his genitals. They were in full working order and his cock
began to get firm.

"You have some impressive balls. Do they order a special jock strap for
you?" I asked.

Biff chuckled. "I do wear the large size," he replied. I know that jock
sizes are based on a man's waist not his genitals size, but Biff was
happy. I felt them.

"They are heavy. Are they overflowing with your man seed?" I asked.

"Is that what they are for?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Did you fall asleep in Biology class?"

"My folks didn't hold with science and stuff like that," he
said. "Everything that needed to be known is in the Bible."

"Well, I hope they don't weigh you down in the game," I commented.  It was
intended to be a joke, but Biff didn't take it that way.

"Would that make a difference?" he asked.

"I doubt it, but every little bit helps," I said.

"Can you help me?" he asked.

"I can, but it is sort of a special service," I said.

"Secret?" he asked. I nodded.

"It's not for just anyone, it is a masseurs' special secret," I said.  He
wanted to know what he had to do, I told him to relax and let it flow. I
would do everything. I bent over and took his semi-erect organ into my
mouth. He had some extra skin, so his cock head was partially covered. I
licked it carefully and used my tongue to push it back and expose his
entire cock head. It was incredibly sensitive. He moaned and shivered. His
cock was bigger than I expected, and his slit was wide.

"It feels odd. Is it what it is supposed to feel like?" he asked.

"Does it feel good" I asked.

"Oh yes, it feels great!" he replied.

"Remember to relax and let things flow," I said.  By then his sex juices
had begun to flow. The flood of man seed came two or three minutes
later. It was rich, plentiful and creamy. I had to swallow twice.  I had
been joking about over filled balls, but as I swallowed the second time, I
thought I might have been right. When Biff left, he was relaxed, mellow and
the happiest man in the world.  He made the winning touchdown the next day.

Phineas had a session the next week. This time I made no effort to avoid
his private parts. He didn't complain about that, but more importantly his
cock responded. Complaining is a personal choice; erections are an
involuntary expression of sexual excitement.

"I have a sense that you are enjoying this.  Is that right?" I asked.

"It is enjoyable, I assure you," he replied. "Intensely so!"

"There are ways I can increase the pleasure," I said. "Some men would
object since these methods because they are personal and almost
intimate. Are you an open-minded man?"

"I am a man of limited experience," he replied. "I do not take
risks. Lately I have been thinking that may have resulted in forgoing many
pleasures. I would be willing to try some new experiences."

"If I were to tell you this method involves massaging your insides, would
you still be interested?" I asked. "It requires a thicker and longer tool
than my finger. It might be too thick."

He looked at my crotch and he could see the outline of my cock through my
light weight shorts. "If it feels as good as your finger, I am game," he
replied.

"I cannot guarantee that, but it will be intense," I said. I massaged and
lubricated his hole carefully. After lubricating my cock, I positioned it
at his hole and pushed gently. He moaned in excitement. "I can make on hard
push, or take my time. Which do you want?" I asked. he told me to do
whatever I felt was best. I split the difference and popped his sphincter
and went as far as his nut. It was quick, so before he could react to the
penetration of his sphincter, I had rammed his prostate.

He gasped; his eyes crossed and he moaned.

"Are you alright?" I asked. He nodded. I began to pump in short motions.

Phineas didn't answer. But he didn't need to answer. He glowed. I had
touched something new in him and it was good. He twitched, moaned and
rotated his ass for five minutes. I think he was trying to find an even
better spot for my cock. As far as I could tell, every spot was good. I
pulled out to let him catch a breath.

"Is it over?" he asked.

"If that is what you want, it is over.  I could do more too. It is up to
you," I said.

"I want more," he replied. I slid my cock back into him.

"I need to tell you that this isn't a massage any more. I am fucking you,"
I said.

"I guessed that. It is fine," he said.

"It is pleasurable for me too. If we do this much longer, I will lose
control and fill you with my man seed," I said.

"Plant it as deep as you can," he replied. A few seconds later I shot off.

"I can feel it, I can feel it squirting!" he cried. He began to shoot off.
Phineas had the good luck to take his first orgasm in his ass and have his
first hands-free orgasm. I felt a warm glow.  I had both given my client's
pleasure as I felt the same pleasure.