subway boy

On a crowded afternoon subway, our eyes met. He was incredibly handsome: dark hair, deep eyes and a shy smile that left me breathless. I gathered courage and, when we got off at the same station, I spoke to him:“Hi… I’m a professional masseur and I’m looking for models for photos and sessions. I’d love for you to be one.”He blushed but smiled.“I really need massages… but I’m married. I have a husband and I don’t want him to find out.”We talked for a long while in a nearby café. I explained everything would be discreet, just between us. After many doubts and laughs, he agreed.The next day he arrived at my apartment, clearly nervous. He took off his shirt with trembling hands. I laid him on the massage table and started with a gentle back massage. Little by little I felt his muscles relax, his breathing deepen and small moans of pleasure escape him.When I asked him to turn over, the sheet barely hid his excitement. He was rock hard. I couldn’t resist: I leaned in and kissed him. He kissed back with hunger. I moved down, kissing his neck, his chest, and then gave him a deep, slow rimjob, tasting him while he moaned and gripped the sheets. I sucked his cock eagerly, enjoying every inch.Finally, I slid my hot, hard cock inside him. He was so turned on he was pushing back against me, begging for more.“Harder… don’t stop,” he pleaded between gasps.We finished sweaty, exhausted and with huge smiles. Before leaving he gave me a long kiss and whispered:“This has to happen again… but it stays our secret.”

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