Birthday Present For Ted

Ted has been my regular massage therapist for quite some time now. I met him in a local Internet chat room. Despite the risks associated with meeting this way, we hit it off.

It's funny, because Ted isn't someone I would have picked out in a crowd as a guy with whom I'd have a continuing, and warm friendship. I'm single and in my early thirties, so I really don't have many friends his age. Ted is fifty-nine years old. He's about my height, which is to say average, and has curly gray hair, cropped close to his head, and twinkly blue eyes. With his gently craggy face and friendly smile he has the look of a kind grandfather, which in fact he is.

Ted's body isn't like those of most grandfathers, though. His stomach is a bit soft, but otherwise he keeps himself in fine shape. He works out with weights regularly and is justifiably proud of his appearance. He came out late in life, after being married for a long time and having a family, and is fond of saying that he's trying to make up for lost time. It says a lot about the kind of guy he is that he stays on good terms with his ex-wife and grown children. He retired early after a successful corporate career, went to massage school and got his license. He really doesn't need the money, but views bodywork more as an agreeable hobby.

"You meet lots of interesting people," he says, his eyes twinkling.

I've found out all of this about Ted during many regular therapy sessions. From the beginning he's been delightful and charming, and really easy to talk to. I've told him lots of things I only share with people I trust. He likes me too. He's told me more than once that he enjoys working on me, not only because of my body, which he says is better than I think it is, but because he regards me as a friend as well as a client. That makes me feel good.

Ted makes me feel physically good too, of course, and, to be honest, it's more than just because he's an expert at massage. He is a licensed therapist and has done all the study required, but he also has some special techniques that work like a charm if you want to feel totally relaxed. I went to him the first time not knowing for sure what to expect, but since I had met him in an M4M chat room, I thought he might be willing to do more than just rub me down. Most male therapists who work only on men will do a bit more, at least for clients they like and trust.

I'm not one of those creeps who grill potential therapists about their appearance and cock size, or ask them to send a picture over the Net, though. It's insulting to treat someone like that. Ted was very honest about his age and what he looked like when we chatted, disarmingly so. I decided to give him a try.

When I got to his modest house and knocked Ted immediately answered the door, smiling, saying, "Welcome, Brian. Come on in." He was dressed in a polo shirt and khaki shorts. From the beginning I liked his relaxed manner. He showed me to his work room and said, "You know the routine." He left me to get ready, and I did so quickly, stripping off my clothes and lying on my stomach on the table.

Although Ted had left me a draping towel, he didn't say anything when he saw that I wasn't using it. He opened his jar of cream and went right to work.

Ted's strokes were thorough, slow and soothing. I noticed that he paid an awful lot of attention to my butt, and that his fingers frequently brushed the area between my cheeks. I began to suspect this wasn't accidental, but it felt good and I didn't mind. By the time Ted was finished with my back side, I was pleasantly horny as well as relaxed. He asked me to turn over and I complied. I had quite a boner on by then, but figured he wouldn't be bothered by it.

Sure enough, Ted didn't miss a beat, but kept right on with the massage. His strokes soon became less therapeutic and more sensual. In a few minutes I was breathing deeply, my cock hard and leaking. I wasn't surprised when he gently took my erection into his hand and began to stroke it. This was how many therapists I'd been to ended their sessions. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the pleasurable sensations of a good hand job.

After a few moments of this, I felt Ted's other hand gently pushing on one of my thighs. I responded to his unspoken request and spread my legs, raising my knees a bit. Continuing to masturbate me, Ted began to probe underneath my balls until his hand found my asshole. A moment later my eyes flew open in surprise as he pushed one finger in. The combined sensation of being jacked off and penetrated quickly brought me to the edge of cumming. I tried to hold out as long as I could, but when Ted's finger began to move, pressing on my prostate, I went over the edge, groaning lustily as cum flew from my dick and splashed over my chest and belly.

Slowly my breathing returned to normal and I opened my eyes. Ted was looking down at me, smiling benignly.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Whew. Great," I replied.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He took what was supposed to be my draping towel and gently blotted up the cum with it.

"You came a lot."

"God, yes." I said wryly, "Your finger kind of took me by surprise."

"I could tell you enjoyed that. I bet you like to get fucked."

I allowed as how that was true.

"Do they have a prostate unit in massage school?" I teased him.

He chuckled and shook his head.

"Just something I kind of figured out on my own."

I felt drained and content. Ted was an expert at massage, and the little extra he was willing to provide was something special. He hugged me when I left and said he hoped I would come back. I'd already decided that I would.

Our next session didn't take place as soon as I would have liked, due to my busy schedule, but eventually I began to see Ted on a more or less regular basis. His bodywork remained as skilled and thorough as ever. Since we had established that I wasn't going to be shocked or outraged by some sensual play, he was less restrained about it.

It was about our fourth or fifth session when Ted surprised me again. That day, as usual, he worked a long time on my ass, gradually beginning to touch the sensitive spots. Finally, while I was still lying on my stomach, he slipped a finger inside me. For several minutes he gently and thoroughly massaged my prostate, while I moaned softly with pleasure at the exquisite sensation.

Later, when I was on my back and he began to stroke my cock, on an impulse I reached out and began to run a hand over his body. In response, Ted slipped his clothes off piece by piece until he too was naked. That was when I discovered how diligently he kept in shape. I also saw that he had quite a decent-sized cock. Judging by how hard it was, he was enjoying the massage too. He used his hands and fingers again to bring me to an absolutely shattering orgasm--I saw stars.

Slowly coming down from my high, I opened my eyes and saw Ted getting dressed. Despite the fact that we had probably crossed some ethical line he didn't seem at all bothered. He handed me a towel, smiled at me in his usual way and left to let me get myself together.

Sitting in the living room of his house afterward, I asked Ted how he had learned his very particular skills, coming out so late in life. He said that it was just a part of self-discovery and exploring his own body and needs. I then asked him, since he was so expert at making that part of a man's body feel good, whether he enjoyed receiving as much as giving. His answer surprised me. He had only been a bottom once, and didn't enjoy it, he said. Why not? I asked.

His smile tightened a bit, and he told me a disturbing story. He had known a few years into his marriage that he was gay, but had stayed with his wife until his children were grown. Of course they went through some rocky times when he came out, but managed to stay friends.

After their divorce was final, he started trying to meet people in bars. It's not so easy to do that when you're in your mid-forties. Finally one night he hooked up with someone who seemed nice and hot, and went home with him. That turned out to be a major mistake. The guy was drunk and horny, and wanted to fuck Ted. Hoping to talk him out of it, Ted told him he was a virgin, which made his partner even more excited. The upshot of it was that he forced Ted into the act.

Ted had trouble telling that part, and what came next. The guy wouldn't stop, no matter how much Ted begged him. The pain was excruciating, but he bore it somehow until his partner came in his ass and pulled out. When Ted said to him, "you raped me," the guy got ugly and told him to put his clothes on and leave. Ted could barely walk, but somehow made it to a all-night convenience store and called a cab to take him back to the bar, where he had left his car.

Since then, understandably, he'd been scared to try it again. For a long time, when he had sex at all, he limited himself to hand jobs and oral sex. He wouldn't fuck anyone, recoiling at the thought of putting someone through what he'd had to endure. Finally, a few years back, he had met a man he really liked, who begged him to top him. His partner's ecstasy when he entered him had been a revelation. It was possible to enjoy getting fucked, he realized. After that he cautiously tried to open himself up and feel more relaxed by using his own finger, and in this way had discovered the pleasures of ass play. He had succeeded enough at overcoming his fears to let one other man probe him digitally, but still hadn't had the nerve to let himself be penetrated again by a cock.

I couldn't get what Ted had told me out of my mind. Thinking about his traumatic experience made me both sad and angry. It's bad enough to be taunted or bashed by straight homophobes, but Ted had been abused by someone with whom he thought he was safe. Not only that, but the bastard had made him afraid of an act that should be fun and pleasurable.

An idea began to grow in my brain. Granted, Ted wasn't my usual physical type. I had never thought about making it with someone twice my age. But I certainly enjoyed being with him, and just the thought of a session on his table made me hard. He liked me too, and by now, we knew what turned each other on probably more than some lovers, I thought.

I knew that Ted's sixtieth birthday was coming up. He had mentioned it as a big occasion for himself and his family--he was taking a few days off to go visit his daughter and her family out of state. After making sure I wasn't interfering with any plans he had, I scheduled an appointment with him a few days before the date of his departure.

By now, our massage sessions had evolved to the point where the state board would have revoked Ted's license had it found out about them. For one thing, he now routinely got naked at the beginning. He didn't mind my using my comparatively inexpert hands on him, so I played with his body and cock as well. Ted's techniques were better than mine, though, so I ended up shooting before him each time. I think not cumming was his way of keeping some boundaries, as weird as that may sound. For that reason, too, Ted did all his regular massage strokes as thorougly and carefully as ever until the very end of the session. He insisted that I "had to get my money's worth."

I appreciated Ted's determination to keep some professionalism in our relationship, and respected his limits. In our play we confined ourselves to using our hands. But when I went to his house a few days before his birthday, I had decided to cross a few more lines. I hoped Ted would understand that this was my way of telling him thanks for making me feel good, and for being such a good friend.

Our session went as always, until the end of the hour neared and we began our sensual play. Up until now, I had always remained lying on the table no matter how intense we got, but today I sat up, turned and, perching on the edge of the table, put my arms around him. Ted stood still for a moment, surprised, but then returned the hug.

I kissed and nuzzled at his neck and throat, gradually working my way to his mouth. When I placed my lips on his, Ted momentarily resisted, then yielded. My tongue slipped in and tangled with his in a long, languorous kiss. We finally broke apart and looked into each other's eyes. Ted was smiling but looked a bit taken aback.

"Is this all right?" I asked him.

After a moment, he nodded, then shook his head.

"It's...really nice, Brian. You just took me by surprise."

I ran my hands gently down his back.

"Consider this a birthday present from me to you."

"A birthday kiss. How sweet."

"I want to give you more than a kiss, Ted." As he raised his eyebrows, I added quickly, going for broke, "I want to fuck you."

I heard his quick intake of breath.

"Why?" he asked after a silence.

I stood and began to caress him again, trying to make him understand.

"I thought about what that guy did to you. I want to show you it doesn't have to be like that." My hands gripped his firm buttocks.

He tried to draw away.

"You--don't have to do that. I don't want you to feel sorry for me."

I shook my head.

"I don't want to do this out of charity. I want to do it `cause you're a fucking hot stud." I took his hand and placed it on my erection.

"Does this feel like charity to you?" I grinned.

He sighed, and dropped his forehead onto my shoulder. In a low voice he said, "I've... I've thought about what it might be like with you. You're a nice man--and you have a beautiful cock."

"Then please let me," I said urgently.

"Please, Ted. I want to so bad."

"I don't have any rubbers."

"I brought some along, just in case you said yes."

He smiled.

"How I can say no to a birthday present? Tell me what to do."

I was elated.

"Why don't you get up on the table, on your back. Only I'm not going to give you a massage."

He obeyed.

"Keep your butt close to the edge," I instructed him. I'd thought about this scene over and over in my mind. Now that it was actually happening I knew exactly what I was going to do.

I moved down to the end of the table and positioned myself between his upraised legs. Ted was looking at me with an anxious expression.

"Go slow, okay, Brian?" he said.

I smiled reassuringly at him.

"Not to worry, hot man. We're going to take it real slow, give you lots of time to get loosened up." I bent down and began to kiss the backs of his thighs alternately, working my way down to his still firm buttocks, nipping and licking them. Gradually I aimed toward the cleft between the cheeks, spreading them with my hands. Ted's ass was entirely smooth and there was only a little light-colored hair in his crack. I could clearly see the darker pink of his asshole, and I made my way toward it with my mouth.

"Brian," Ted said worriedly, "You don't have to do that."

I ceased my labors for a moment and looked up at him.

"Believe me, Ted, I want to. Just relax and trust me, okay?"

I bent down again and began to lick circles around the hole with my tongue, making them smaller and smaller until I felt my mouth reach the velvety smoothness of his anus. I began to tease the hole, flicking my tongue at it lightly at first, then pushing a little harder, stretching it as I began to work my way inside. I heard a soft sound which after a moment I realized was Ted moaning. I thought to myself, this is going to be okay.

I reached up with one hand and took hold of Ted's hard cock while I continued to rim him. I gave him a few strokes and his hand gripped mine.

"Don't," he said, "I'll come right now if you keep on doing that."

"Okay," I said in a muffled voice as I let go, my mouth still pressed against his hole. That must have tickled because he giggled. I worked on his hole for a while longer, then straightened up and looked down at him. Ted was smiling, a bit bashfully.

"That was wonderful," he said.

"You didn't have to do that."

My mouth and cheeks were covered with spit. In response, I took the back of my hand and wiped my mouth with an exaggerated gesture, then wiggled my tongue playfully at him.

"You taste great."

Ted laughed.

"You're terrible," he said, shaking his head.

I stepped away from the table.

"Relax a moment while I get ready for Step Two." I went to the pile of clothes I had left on a chair in the corner of the massage room, and rummaged in my pants pocket until I found the condom and small tube of water-soluble lube I had brought. I brought them back to the table where Ted lay, his legs dangling over the edge of the table for the moment. I put the wrapped rubber down next to him, then squeezed out some of the jelly onto my hand. I smiled at Ted again.

"Okay, big guy."

He raised his legs again and I found his asshole, spreading the lubricant on it and drawing a whistle of surprise.

"That's cold," Ted said, raising his head to look.

I nodded.

"We'll warm you up in a minute." I took my index finger and slowly, gently pushed it in an inch or so. Ted's head dropped back to the table, his mouth opened and his eyes closed.

"Okay?" I asked. He nodded silently. I slid my finger back and forth, very gently, feeling the hole gradually loosen a bit. When I thought he was ready, I withdrew it and, again moving very slowly, pushed two fingers in. Ted's breathing deepened. I crooked my fingers upward in his rectum and found the firm knob of his prostate. As I began to press on the gland I saw Ted's cock, which had softened slightly, harden again and spring up from his belly.

"Oh my," he gasped.

I smiled.

"Doing okay?"

"Wonderful," he breathed.

"I never thought it could feel like this."

"Now you know how I feel when you do this to me." I finger-fucked him for a while longer, then pulled out and took the condom.

"Stay relaxed, guy."

I was planning on entering him in this position. Sometimes a first-timer likes to be on top, but if they misjudge the entry they pull up at the pain and don't want to try again. As much as I liked Ted, having gotten this far, I wasn't going to let him get away that easily, even if it hurt some at first, which I knew it probably would. Besides, with him on his back I could watch my own cock slide in and out of his greasy hole. That's always been one of my favorite sights during sex.

I tore open the pre-lubed rubber and carefully unrolled it onto my cock, which had stayed hard easily all this time, then spread more lube over the latex. To reassure Ted I applied more to his hole. When that was done I dropped the tube on the table, leaned down and kissed him.

"You're doing great," I told him.

"I am so looking forward to this."

He nodded, anxiety battling with eagerness in his face. I straightened up and placed his legs on my shoulders, then aimed my cock between his cheeks, searching with one finger until I found his hole again. I put the head of my dick on it, then looked him in the eye.

"I'm going in. Take deep breaths, just relax, buddy."

Looking downward, I began to push forward, very slowly. I felt his flesh resisting.

"Try and relax," I repeated.

His face was tense. I could tell he wanted me to stop, but I continued to push. I saw myself begin to penetrate his flesh, and using every ounce of self-control, slowed my pace down even more, letting the head of my cock gradually, easily open him up. Another fraction of an inch and all of the head was inside him. Finally I eased in a bit more and felt the ring of his sphincter muscle grip my shaft. I had managed to get inside.

At that moment Ted cried out in panic.

"Stop!"

"Shh, take it easy, man. I'm not going any further."

His face was twisted in pain.

"Oh god, it hurts, Brian. Maybe we shouldn't do this--"

I knew this was probably going to happen, and I took charge.

"You're just cramping, Ted, you're not used to something coming in instead of going out. It'll get better in just a minute."

He looked unconvinced, but I didn't give in.

"I'm not forcing you, guy. Keep breathing. Just trust me. Trust me," I repeated, and I could see him trying to relax, trying to follow my instructions. I continued talking softly, encouraging him.

"You're doing fine. If it doesn't stop hurting, I'll pull out, I promise. Relax... relax," I said softly, stroking his arm. Silence fell, except for the sound of our breathing.

After a moment I felt something give inside Ted's body. His face changed, his eyes widening in surprise.

"It's not so bad now."

I still didn't move, waiting for him to loosen completely. I heard his quick intakes of breath, then a long sigh.

"Oh, my goodness." I knew then that his pain had passed, and the pleasure of being penetrated was welling up inside him.

"How do you feel now?" I asked him, thinking I probably knew the answer.

"It's incredible," Ted gasped. Slowly I slid my cock in further, feeling his chute open in response. Finally my pubes were pressed against his cheeks.

"I'm all the way in, baby," I said softly.

Ted made a sound that was half gasp, half laughter. He tossed his head from side to side on the table.

"I can't believe it, I have a man's cock inside me. Shit, it's great. Fuck me, Brian."

"With pleasure," I answered as I began to move my hips back and forth. I watched the play of emotions on Ted's face as the experience he had fantasized about for so long became reality.

"Fuck me," he repeated in a whisper as I increased the speed of my thrusts. His hands reached down and gripped my butt, urging me further into him.

"Damn, you're hot," I muttered.

"So fucking tight. Sweet ass." I straightened and looked down the front of my body at my slick pole, sheathed in latex, as it slid in and out of his hole relentlessly, like a machine. Minutes passed, as I varied the pace of my motions, now and then slowing down to give us a breather, then speeding up again.

Finally we couldn't hold back any longer. Ted gripped his own stiff cock and began to stroke it. I leaned down and put my mouth to his. We kissed passionately as both of us abandoned ourselves and rushed toward orgasm. Ted made incoherent noises against my lips, rising in pitch until they became a prolonged, muffled wail of ecstasy. I released his mouth and he shouted, "Fuck I'm going to cum!" A second later I felt a warm, sticky wetness between our sweaty, frantically moving bodies and I knew he was shooting his load. A half dozen huge thrusts, and I was shouting too as I delivered my own sperm into the rubber deep inside him.

His arms went around me as our frenzied motions slowed and we gradually began to catch our breaths. After a while I raised my head and smiled into his eyes.

"Happy Birthday, Ted," I said.

He didn't smile back. Instead, his face tightened and his eyes became suspiciously bright. He gripped my neck in a hard embrace.

"Oh, Brian," he said against my shoulder, his voice trembling. He repeated my name, still holding me tightly. Finally he laid his head back down on the table, sighing deeply.

"Thank you. That was the best birthday present I ever had."

I looked at his body, still firm and masculine, and his handsome face, now grave and peaceful. I had told Ted I wasn't doing him out of charity, and at that moment I knew how true that was. This man was a hot fuck and a great guy. Now that it was over, I wanted him again. And I wanted him inside me. How all this was going to change what we had, I didn't know. I pushed aside the questions in my mind. That part could wait.

I pulled out of him gently so he could relax his legs, took a nearby towel, and wiped him off as he had so often done for me. When I was done, I laid a hand on his stomach.

"How about we take a shower, get dressed and go have some dinner?" I asked.

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written by ivrys88