Hello, Kitty
I go to the gym at least three times a week, but not for the cardio — my masseur gives me hourlong rubdowns that throw me into ecstasy that I definitely shouldn't be experiencing in public. I am one of those guys who asks his date for a massage under the guise of "my aching back," but it's always about a little hands-on foreplay. Now that I'm paying this gorgeous hunk of a man to do me good (and do me right), I'm even more in the love with the idea of massage. But I'm still fiending for the follow-through. I get so horny when he starts rubbing me down, and I kinda think he flirts with me too. I don't want to be wrong and embarrass myself by actually making a move. I'm not sure if he's gay, but nevertheless I'm craving his brand of happy ending. Can I? Will he?
Tuchmi Thayer
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