Massage parlor

Avery left the bookstore with the soft sway still in his step and the lingering heat of those testing hands on his mind. The afternoon sun was warm against his bare thighs as he started the walk home. He had only gone two blocks when he saw it.

The massage parlor sat between a quiet café and a flower shop. No flashy sign, just a simple wooden board with elegant lettering and a soft purple curtain covering the glass door. Avery had walked past it before. Everyone in the neighborhood knew what it was—women and futas only, even if nothing official said so. The staff were all futas, the clientele the same. Boys simply never went inside.

He stopped on the sidewalk.

The thought came uninvited and immediately made his cock twitch under the short skirt. What would happen if he walked in? If he acted like he didn’t know the unspoken rule? If he played the soft, clueless boy who just wanted a simple massage after a long shift?

His heart beat a little faster. He could still feel Martha and Blair’s cum inside him from the morning, a pleasant reminder with every step. The idea of more hands on him—strangers’ hands—made his mouth go dry.

He adjusted the sweater tied around his waist, smoothed his skirt, and pushed the door open before he could change his mind.

A soft chime sounded. The interior was warm and dimly lit, smelling of oils and clean linen. A low counter stood near the entrance. Behind it sat a tall futa with short black hair and calm, assessing eyes. She looked up from a tablet, then looked again when she registered what he was.

For a second the polite smile on her face faltered.

“Good afternoon,” she said carefully. “Can I help you?”

Avery gave her the softest, most uncertain smile he could manage, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be there.

“Um… hi. I was walking home and my shoulders are really sore from work. I saw the sign and… do you take walk-ins? I’ve never had a massage before.”

The receptionist’s eyes flicked down his body—short skirt, bare thighs, the way he held himself—and then back to his face. She was clearly calculating.

“We… usually book ahead,” she said slowly. “And most of our clients are…”

“Oh.” Avery’s cheeks colored. He looked down at the floor, voice going even softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I can just go—”

“No,” she said quickly, almost too quickly. “It’s fine. We have an opening. One of our girls just finished a session.” She tapped something on the tablet, then glanced at him again. “Full body? Or just back and shoulders?”

Avery hesitated, playing the part. “Full body… if that’s okay? I’ve been on my feet all morning and everything feels tight.”

The receptionist’s throat moved as she swallowed. “Full body is fine. Right this way.”

She stepped out from behind the counter. She was taller than him by a good margin, and the soft pants she wore did nothing to hide the heavy shape of her cock. Avery kept his eyes politely lowered as she led him down a short hallway lined with closed doors. Soft music played from hidden speakers. The air felt warmer the deeper they went.

She opened the last door on the left.

The room was small and quiet. A wide massage table covered in fresh white sheets stood in the center. Soft lighting, a shelf of oils, a single chair in the corner. No windows.

“You can undress and lie face-down under the sheet,” the receptionist said. Her voice had gone a little lower. “The masseuse will be with you in a few minutes. Her name is Lena.”

Avery nodded, still looking shy. “Thank you.”

She lingered a second longer than necessary, eyes drifting once more over the curve of his ass under the short skirt, then stepped out and closed the door.

Avery let out a slow breath.

He stripped carefully—sweater, skirt, stockings, panties—folding everything neatly on the chair. The air against his bare skin made him shiver. He was already half-hard from the walk and the way the receptionist had looked at him. He climbed onto the table, pulled the sheet up to his waist, and rested his cheek on his folded arms, facing the door.

He waited.

The door opened a few minutes later.

Lena was taller than the receptionist, early thirties, with long dark hair tied back and a calm, professional face that didn’t quite hide the flash of surprise when she saw him. She wore the same soft black uniform pants and a fitted top that stretched across her chest. The outline of her cock was clear against the fabric.

She paused in the doorway.

“…You’re the walk-in.”

Avery lifted his head just enough to look at her, eyes wide and soft. “Yes. Is that okay? I’ve never done this before. If I’m not supposed to be here I can leave—”

“No.” Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Her voice was steady, but something in it had tightened. “It’s fine. Just… unexpected.”

She moved to the shelf and selected a bottle of oil, warming it between her hands. Avery watched her from the corner of his eye, keeping his expression open and a little nervous.

“Lie still,” she said. “Tell me if the pressure is too much.”

Her hands settled on his shoulders first—warm, strong, professional. She worked the oil into his skin with firm, practiced strokes, moving down the line of his spine. Avery let out a soft, genuine sound of relief. The ache from the morning’s double penetration and the long shift at the bookstore melted under her fingers.

Lena’s hands traveled lower, over his lower back, then to the tops of his hips. The sheet shifted. She hesitated for half a second when her thumbs brushed the upper curve of his ass, then continued as if nothing had happened. Avery didn’t tense. He didn’t pull away. He only breathed softly into his folded arms.

That was enough.

Her hands slid fully under the sheet. Warm, oiled palms settled on both of his ass cheeks and began to knead—slow, thorough, testing the soft give of the flesh. She worked the muscles with firm circular motions, thumbs pressing deep, fingers spreading slightly with each pass. Avery’s breath hitched, but he stayed still, legs slightly parted, completely pliant under her hands.

Lena’s breathing had changed. She massaged him like that for a long time, growing bolder with every quiet, accepting sound he made. Finally she reached up and pulled the sheet away entirely, letting it fall to the floor. Cool air touched his bare skin. She stood between his legs, looking down at the full, round shape of his ass, the way it jiggled faintly under her continuing hands.

She spread his cheeks with both thumbs.

The sight of his cute, slightly puffy hole made her cock jump hard against her pants. For a moment she just stared. Then she leaned down and dragged her tongue over it in one long, slow lick.

Avery’s soft moan filled the quiet room.

Lena licked him again, slower, circling the rim, pushing the tip of her tongue against the entrance. She spent long minutes there—licking, sucking gently, spreading him open with her thumbs so she could taste deeper. Avery pushed back against her face in tiny, instinctive movements, never once telling her to stop.

When she finally lifted her head, a thin string of spit connected her lips to his hole. She reached for the oil bottle, tilted it, and poured a thin stream directly down the crack of his ass. The warm liquid ran over his hole and between his cheeks. Lena used both hands to spread it, massaging the oil into every soft curve, thumbs brushing over his entrance again and again.

One finger settled against the slick ring of muscle and began to rub in slow, deliberate circles.

Avery’s toes curled.

Lena pressed. The finger sank in easily to the first knuckle, then deeper. She worked it in and out with careful, thorough strokes, feeling how soft and open he already was. A second finger joined the first. She scissored them gently, stretching him, pouring a little more oil directly onto her fingers so everything stayed slick and easy.

Avery’s voice came out small and shaky against the table.

“That feels… really nice…”

Lena’s cock was fully hard now, straining against her pants. She added a third finger, twisting them slowly, watching his hole open around the intrusion. The wet sound of oil and the soft, broken noises Avery made were the only things filling the room.

She kept finger-fucking him like that—deep, unhurried, thoroughly—while her free hand stroked the soft underside of his ass and the backs of his thighs. Every time she curled her fingers against his prostate, Avery’s hips twitched and a sweeter sound slipped out of him.

Lena leaned over his back, still working three fingers in and out of his hole, and spoke close to his ear, voice low and rough.

“You’re very open for a first-time client.”

Avery only pushed back onto her hand and whispered, soft and honest,

“Please don’t stop…”