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P A R T O N E
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If you have ever lived out in the country, away from city life and neighbors, you know the perks of having abundant privacy in a peaceful, natural setting. You probably also know how tough it can be to get friends to visit you, or to help you with other things like homework because you live so far away.
Such was the case when it came time for me to complete homework assignments for my Massage Therapy course. The course itself had been a graduation gift from Dad. It was a great surprise to discover he had paid for the entire course, and all I had to do was show up and pass. This was easier said than done, though. I had no problem with my classroom assignments, but I fell short when it came time to partner up outside the classroom and get hands-on massage experience. Our small house twenty miles out of the city made it nearly impossible to have guests, much less homework buddies.
One early Saturday as I struggled with my homework, Dad noticed I was upset and asked me if I was okay.
“It’s these stupid muscle groups!” I complained. “How am I supposed to learn muscles from sheets of paper? I just wish I had someone who could come over to help me practice these applications!” Dad looked puzzled, but still put his hand on my shoulder.
"Relax, champ,” he said as he messed with my hair. “If all you need is a body to grope, I'll be your very own massage client.”
“It's not groping!” I shouted. Dad quickly realized I was seriously frustrated and changed his tone as he tried to console me.
“I know, I know. I just don’t like to see you all worked up, Junior,” he turned me around to face him. “Now just relax, and tell me what you need me to do.”
Dad was really cool with the whole situation, and I was relieved to see he seriously wanted to help me out. He brightened the mood a bit as he joked around and told me all about the “private” massages he’d gotten from girls back during his days as a professional wrestler. I saw his face turn a bright red when he caught himself after he told me how the massages always ended up with the girl riding his cock and draining his balls. I couldn’t help but laugh.
Then I explained to him how my massage would be different because I was going to use a real massage table, massage oils, warm towels and ambient music. I told him it was all part of the actual massage, but no matter how much he paid me, I wasn’t going to ride his cock and drain his balls.
Dad got playfully mad and caught me off guard when he threw his musky shirt right at my face. We horsed around for a bit more as we sometimes did, and I finally cried “Uncle!”
“So, if it’s cool, Dad,” I told him. “It would be really awesome if you weren’t wearing clothes during the massage so I can really learn these muscle groups without having to guess.”
Dad got serious for a bit and his smile slowly faded.
“You mean get naked?” he asked quietly.
I was barely able to speak the words. “Yes sir.”
He thought for a brief moment, let out a deep sigh, and then said “Okay.” He took off his pants and walked over to drape them on a nearby chair. I studied the way his beefy ass moved in the snug white cotton boxers he wore. He could really fill a pair of boxers, and the head of his cock would occasionally poke out as he walked back to the massage table. A sudden twitch at the base of my own cock snapped me back to reality, and I immediately went around the room to set up everything I was going to use.
Dad finally took off his boxers and sat naked on the massage table.
“Now, I haven’t had a good massage in over ten years, boy,” he said. “Much less a real massage where I’m butt naked. So you can't blame an old man if you get an unexpected rise out of him, if you know what I mean.” I could hear the nervous smile in his deep voice.
“You DO know what I mean, right, Junior?” Dad asked me.
I knew exactly what he meant. Dad was worried he’d get a boner during the massage.
“Dad, you don’t have to worry about getting an erection in front of me,” I started. “Geez- don’t call it that! Makes it sound all doctor-like and surgical! Just call it a boner, boy.”
We laughed at the awkwardness of the situation, and then I explained to him how it would be okay if he got an erec- er, a boner during the massage. I told him it would even be a good thing.
“A good thing?!”
“Yeah. Mr. B., our instructor, warned some of us in class about this very same situation.” He gazed at me with a look of both shock and confusion. The instructor told us that although it was commonplace for clients to get aroused during a massage, it was difficult for most new masseurs to keep their composure and professionalism. So, as awkward as it would be for us, he encouraged us to experience this scenario as much as we could so we may learn to stay cool under pressure. That way, when the time came for us to experience this very same thing with an actual client, we’d be ready.
Dad sighed deeply again.
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CONTINUED WITH PART 2
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