Therapy by MountainDewMan,MountainDewMan

Therapy

My name is Mel, Melvin but I have always hated that name. If you looked at me from the outside you would say star football player. I mean six foot two and two hundred pounds; lean, muscled. Nope, sorry that isn’t me. Or maybe ladies man; chiseled jaw, dark wavy hair…nope that wasn’t me either.

Life has a way of playing cruel jokes at times; and that was me. I loved sports, a lot; I worked out in a gym almost every day. But when it came down to running the left field slot for ten yards, turn to your right, catch the ball and run; it never worked. I have mild ADD and a bit of autism if the truth is told. The screaming crowds, people running everywhere, the focus just never worked.

In school I got mediocre grades, and those were a struggle. Trying to focus and learn was always work for me. By the time I graduated from high school, let’s be real college was not a big option. The gym I had attended asked me if I wanted a job, so I took it until I decided what I wanted, and honestly could, do.

Interestingly enough my love of sports and working out paid off. I went from cleaning to personal trainer. The gym paid for my school and I studied sports physical therapy. I worked with a lot of the local athletes, and actually started doing decent for myself for the first time in my life. Decent enough I could get my own apartment and finally have a life of my own.

My folks were sad but proud the day I moved out; I honestly don’t think they ever thought it was going to really happen. I worked full time at the gym doing training and therapy.

One day I strained my own knee, and decided to try the massage therapy to see if that helped. It worked wonders on my knee and started my interest in expanding into massage therapy. It was the massage therapy that involves this story.

I had been just doing the massages now and then if the gym needed me, no real set schedule. When they asked me to do it a Thursday afternoon along with my regular day shift, I didn’t have a social life so figured what the hell, it was extra money.

Sports therapy tends to work with those dedicated people, like athletes. Most of them range around twenty to thirty. I quickly discovered most of the afternoon massage clients were totally different. Most of them didn’t break under 35 or 40, and ninety percent were female.

It was my third massage where things went offline. Her name was Jill, she was forty-two, the mother of two, and had to sport at least 36D’s or better. Having worked on young athletes, I was used to the trim, fit, yeah skinny girls with all but flat chests. This was something different. These were real women. Full bodied, full breasted and nothing to hide. It took only to the second massage and I was sporting a chub in my gym shorts. Since she hadn’t mentioned it I had figured I was safe. I was wrong.

“You have nice hands” Jill told me. “Among other things” I heard her murmur.

When I looked down I saw her head was turned to me, and her eyes locked onto the bulge only inches from her face. At first I was embarrassed, then I thought wait; she hadn’t told me to stop, and she was the one staring. What the fuck, I decided, and kept going.

“Don’t forget my thighs” Jill said softly.

I switched around and oiled my hands. I began to slide my hands along the backs of her thighs and when she parted her legs, I slid my fingers in to dig at her soft inner thighs.

“Mmmmmmmmm” I heard a soft murmur of approval.

I massaged up her inner thighs and then started back down.

“Higher” Jill told me.

I switched directions and slowly massage up her inner thigh, until my fingers were only inches from her crotch. I changed directions again and started to head back down.

“Higher” her voice was now husky.

“Are you sure?” I asked back.

“Oh I’m very sure” Jill whispered.

I felt her slender fingers wrap around the stalk of my cock through my shorts. All I could do was groan as she slid her hand up and down my length. My God this woman knew what she was doing. Even through the cloth her strokes were long and deliberate, the pressure on my cock perfect. Blood surged as I thickened in her grip.

My brain short circuited, my attention span went to zero, and my fingers slid up her slick thigh and then right through her moist fur covered lips.

“Yessssssssssss” Jill moaned as my finger found her hard nub of a clit.

I swirled my fingers in her swamp and toyed with that button. I felt the bow on my shorts pulled open, and the cloth tugged down.

“Fuck” I grunted as her hand wrapped around my rigid pole.

I looked down in wonder and watched as manicured nails pumped up and down my cock in a smooth motion. God this was about the hottest hand job I had ever gotten.

“I need you to…ohhhh fuckkkkkkk” Jill groaned.

I didn’t wait for her to finish, I just slid one fat finger up her hot channel. The most obscene wet sucking noise filled the small room as I began to pump my finger in and out.

“That’s it…yessss…finger it you nasty boy” Jill groaned.

I just jammed my hand in harder, watching her ass bounce on the table. I knew it was getting to her as her hand lost its rhythm. I hadn’t said a single word since we started, and then Jill spoke again.

“Perverted…young…oh fuck” she grunted as she drove her ass back against my hand. “Is that what you want, to make my nasty old pussy cum?” she grated at me.

It was evident she now wanted me to talk, to participate. This was all new to me, so I just leaned down and said the first thing that came to my mind.

“I’m going to make that nasty…old…married…pussy cum” I husked in her ear.

As my hand slid back, I added a second finger and shoved back in hard, the sound of my palm slapping against her ass as I stretched her.

“Oh my Godddddddddddddddddd” Jill groaned into the towel under her.

I stood there and watched as her entire body heaved, her thighs quivered and a hot gush of fluids soaked my hand. I could hear her ragged breathing as her orgasm tore through her.

I pulled her hand free and stood at the edge of the table. I started stroking my throbbing cock as I watched the wet stain grow on the towel under her. The smell of her sex filled the room and set my balls on fire.

“Fuck yeah” I grunted as the first blast of thick cum exploded from the tip of my cock.

It arched through the air and splattered across one quivering ass cheek; soon followed by a second and then third wad. I literally emptied my balls standing there and we never even had real sex.

As my orgasm ebbed down, I reached down and tugged my shorts back into place. Figuring the massage was over I turned and quietly slipped out the door as Jill lay there shaking in the after-glow.

I gave her about ten minutes then slipped back in the room. Sure enough she was dressed and gone. There was a small envelope on the folded towel where her head had been. Inside was a crisp one hundred dollar bill and a small post-it note.

“Best massage ever” was written in a swirling woman’s handwriting.

That was the one event that evening, the other two massages I had were your standard fare. I went home wondering if this was normal for the afternoons. I only knew if another late shift opened I would be happy to try it.

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