Broken By My Masseur!

Excerpt:

"I hope you don't mind," he says, "but I always work shirtless. Keeps oil off my clothes and lets me be a bit more...free with my work. I promise you've never experienced anything like one of my massages, but if it makes you uncomfortable—"

His rack is breathtaking; the honey-hued physique of a man who must live at the gym. I imagine him bench pressing me, using my body to do bicep curls, doing naked pushups as I lie against his back hugging him, also naked. Then I come back to Earth and remember that not only do I have a boyfriend, but that said boyfriend is footing the bill for the entirety of this experience I'm enjoying. Shamed by my unfaithful thoughts, I answer that shirt or no shirt is all right with me. Then I close my eyes and try not to think about what sex with the Adonis about to lay his large, masculine hands on me must feel like.