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Nick 💙: Charlieeeee
You: Yes, dear heart?
Nick 💙: The kids were murder today and my back is sore…
You: My poor baby 🙁 Are you home already?
Nick 💙: Yep, just having a lie down…but…
You: Are you trying to tell me you need something Nicholas?
Nick 💙: Maybe…
You: Can I help or do you want the masseur?
Nick 💙: Masseur please. If you’re sure you’re okay with it?
You: On it - I’ll let you know…
Nick 💙: 🥰
You: Done. Masseur there in 30.
Nick 💙: 😘
There’s a knock at the door, and Nick shouts to them that it’s open. Once he hears the person come inside, he calls out so they can hear where he is. He’s got himself ready; stripped down to his briefs, he lays face down on the bed with a towel over his arse to preserve the little modesty anyone has in this situation. It’s a little chilly in the bedroom, but he feels content stretched out on the soft bedding, knowing that relief is coming for his various pains and aches.
There’s a brief knock on the door and someone enters the room. The masseur must have taken off his shoes in the hallway because Nick can just hear the quiet shuffle of socks on carpet. They make small talk. Well, Nick does; he tells the man about the mundanity of his day and what a handful his class was as the masseur sets out the necessary bits and pieces. Scented oils, a couple of rollers, a clean scrub top, towels.
There’s a smell that Nick can’t quite place. It could be coming from him? Pregnancy has done a number on his pheromones and his scent has been spiking and dipping seemingly at random. Now a wave of something just slightly different washes over him and he’s not sure if it’s him or the masseur.
“Are you ready?” the man asks, approaching the side of the bed.
“Yep.”
“I’m going to sit on the backs of your thighs so I can start work on your upper back. Just let me know if anything is uncomfortable, okay?”
The man pours some oil out into his hands and warms it for a moment, working his hands over each other and filling the room with the scent of lavender. He climbs onto the bed and into position. He isn’t heavy and Nick feels comfortably contained by the weight on his legs. The masseur places his hands on Nick’s back and he just holds them there for a moment so that Nick can get used to the sensation. The hands are cool on his warm skin and his sore back, and the smell of the oils is comforting, masking the disconcerting scent from earlier.
He rubs Nick’s back in large, flat circles, warming his hands and soothing Nick’s aching muscles. Nick starts to feel himself letting go, the tense fibres deep in his body relaxing, sloughing off the tension of the day.
“How’s that?” the masseur asks.
“Yeah, great.” Nick answers, already slightly dazed from the feeling of unwinding so thoroughly.
He moves down to the area where Nick is feeling the most sore, making the same large circles to begin with, before honing in tighter and pressing with the heel of his hand. There’s a release of tension with each movement, and Nick starts to feel the pain ease.
“A bit more pressure there, if you can?” Nick asks, the relief at being worked on clear in his voice. He sounds so much more relaxed than at the start of the session. The hands start to work harder, thumbs firmly working out the knots and tense spots. It’s bliss.
“That’s really good,” Nick can barely keep the moan out of his voice.
The masseur carries on working on his lower back for a while, rubbing and pressing and squeezing the tension out of the flesh, as Nick makes increasingly contented noises in response.
“I’m just going to move the towel a fraction lower so I can work on your glutes, okay? It’s common for lower back pain to refer to the surrounding muscle tissues if care isn’t taken with the whole area.”
Nick breathes a fraction more heavily as the masseur inches the towel down, along with the top of his briefs, exposing his backside to the cool air in the room. It’s quickly tempered by warm hands as the man massages his glutes with the heels of his palms, working on one side and then the other, before using a hand on each.
This carries on for maybe a minute before Nick realises that every now and then, the man allows the kneading motion to pull his cheeks apart ever so slightly. He ignores it to begin with, but the longer it goes on, the more the attention starts to get to Nick. It’s pretty hot, knowing that the guy is looking at him while he works on his arse, and he feels a tinge of desire to be touched right on the edge of his thoughts. And in Nick’s hormonal state, that does it.
As soon as the tiny thought crystallises, he feels himself starting to get hard. That’s not really an issue given he’s pressed into the bed and well out of sight. The problem comes when he feels himself starting to slick. The masseur is definitely going to see, and possibly smell it. Nick muffles a groan with the pillow by his head as his face burns with the embarrassment of it all.
The man shifts his weight slightly and repeats the motion, lifting and just barely separating his cheeks. Nick thinks he hears a reaction, but it could be the sound of his own breath catching in his throat as he feels a warm pulse of slick trickle out of him.
“Are you okay? Feels like it might be a good idea for me to address some of the tension down here. What do you think?”
Nick shudders involuntarily as he feels the man’s hand slide down towards his entrance and then start to rub back and forth through the pool of slick that’s formed. Nick gasps as he feels the gentle pressure of a finger around his rim. It feels so good.
“You shouldn’t…” Nick starts breathlessly, “My husband…”
A couple more delicious circles and then the fingers are gone, leaving Nick positively reeling from the loss.
“Ah okay, that’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
The man reaches over for one of the towels and wipes his hand off before going back to working on Nick’s glutes. It’s torture for Nick; he’s so worked up now, his hard length pressing uncomfortably into the mattress and his hole aching from being touched but not filled. He rears up slightly into the pressure of the masseur’s hands and lets out a small moan at the tiny bit of friction on his straining erection.
“I’ll just pretend that didn’t happen shall I?” says the man with a neutral tone as he resumes the massage, working in deep to Nick’s glutes with his thumbs. The contact is agonising for Nick and he pushes down into the bed.
“Oh that’s interesting, isn’t it?” the man says gently, but with a smirk simmering in his tone. “He told me all about you, you know.”
Nick rocks up a little again and feels a hand trace slowly down, fingers reaching back into the slick and sliding back and forth over his entrance. Nick moans, and this time he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make any effort to get the man to stop.
“He told me you’d say we shouldn’t, but that your body would tell me something else.”
Nick groans at the renewed pressure on his hole as deft fingers gently circle his entrance. He craves the slight sneer in the masseur’s breathy voice. He’s shifted his weight forward slightly and is closer to Nick’s ear than he had been before. Nick pants gently and quivers as another pulse of slick oozes out of him.
“What do you think your body is telling me now, hmm?” he asks rhetorically, spreading the fresh slick around with his hand, teasing with a hint of more pressure. “Now that you’re all wet for me. Now that you can’t keep still, aching for my fingers.”
Nick’s moaning now, desperate for the feeling of more pressure. The man’s voice is closer now and it drops to a whisper. Every consonant crackles through Nick’s skin, fizzing in his brain.
“Yeah, he said exactly how it was going to go. How you’d say no, but then you’d start to slick and you’d reek of desperation.”
Nick shudders as a sting of shame boils inside him, fuelling his intense arousal. He pushes himself into the mattress for a modicum of relief, trying to generate some friction against his throbbing length.
The voice is right next to his ear now and he can feel the hot breath on the shell of his ear. “And he told me you’d beg for it.”
A rush of heat floods Nick’s body as he lies motionless against the cool sheets, a potent mix of humiliation, lust, and just a little defiance swirling through his consciousness, coalescing into a single response.
“I am not begging,” he strains out, his breathing heavy.
“Maybe not yet,” comes the playfully cruel response, “but I think you will, won’t you…”
The masseur stays exactly where he is. He keeps his weight on Nick’s legs and the pressure on his hole, relentlessly teasing in a circular motion, pushing a little, but not enough to breach it and slide in the finger Nick so badly needs to feel inside him. He gasps softly in Nick’s ear as Nick squirms, trying to push himself back onto the slick fingers. But the man has anchored his hand on the flesh just above so that it moves with Nick and there’s no way of him getting any purchase. He writhes, and grunts. He truly is desperate. But he’s not going to beg.
Nick senses the man’s weight shift again, and then the hands are gone and his skin is cold as the masseur climbs off his legs. Nick can move freely again, but he doesn’t. He lies there, achingly hard, waiting to see what will happen next. In his peripheral vision, he sees the man’s socked feet, and then dark blue scrub trousers pooling in a heap around them, followed by underwear. Nick shivers as he feels a hand drag through his slick again, and then he can hear the small noises the man is making as he stands next to the bed; the unmistakable sound of quickening breath and skin moving over skin as he touches himself.
It feels close, and exciting. Like maybe the man isn’t going to be able to help himself and Nick will win this battle of wills.
The masseur climbs back onto the bed, returning to his spot on Nick’s legs and settling his weight back on them. The feeling of bare skin on his thighs burns up Nick’s body. And then there’s a gentle rocking motion as the man strokes himself, inches from Nick’s backside. It’s like torture. There is a minuscule amount of relief from the friction of the bed against his erection as they move, but it’s nothing; a drop in the lake of Nick’s agonising need.
The pressure on his legs changes again and he feels something hard push against his left cheek, he thinks he can feel…the heat of the tip of the man’s cock, pressing into his flesh with the rhythm of the movements. Nick can feel the slippery tackiness of pre-cum as it spreads around the point of contact and dries, making his skin tighten. The man starts to moan, just a little, and he makes a couple of sharp grunts here and there as he strokes himself and presses into Nick’s rounded cheek, just an inch or so to the left of where Nick needs it.
And he needs it so badly. The sound of the masseur pleasuring himself while Nick lies untouched is too much. He’s over the tipping point; the tightness sits low in his stomach, and a flush of scintillating heat has swept through his body to every extremity. He can’t stand to be tormented any longer. Nick feels a renewed shudder at the indignity of what’s about to happen, a cold flood of prickles washes through him. He puts it off as long as he can, in the futile hope that the man will be the first to break, that he’ll give into his own desire to touch Nick, but it doesn’t happen. The rocking and teasing and aching carries on until it’s too much and a defeated whimper escapes the prone man’s lips.
“Please.” The single, desperate syllable barely carries over the sound of the man’s breathy moans.
“I’m sorry?” the masseur asks, no let up in his movements, continuing to make it clear that Nick is missing out. “Did you say something?”
“Please.” Nick says a little louder, and the movement stills.
“Oh?” Nick can hear the smile in the man’s response “Please, what?”
“Please…touch me,” Nick whimpers out.
“After all that?” The man tuts and leans low to Nick’s ear again, “Show me how deliciously pathetic you are. Beg me.”
The instruction drips with derision and Nick feels another full body flush of shame and lust, flooding his veins, permeating every fibre, setting his hairs on end and his nerves alive.
“Please. Please fuck me, I need it.” he pleads, “I want it. Please. I want you. Please. I’ll do anything. I just need you to touch me.”
Nick’s almost beside himself with want, waiting for a sign that relief might be coming.
“Hands and knees,” the man commands, sharply.
He takes Nick by the hips and pulls him up and back firmly, and Nick plants his hands either side of the pillow. Then the lithe fingers are back around his entrance and he’s shuddering and moaning as the man resumes the circular massage from before.
“Is this what you want?” The question comes with a gruff tone.
“Yes.” Nick whines, “Fuck, please. I need you inside me.”
There’s a sting of pressure and then Nick feels the finger slide in easily, he’s so wet and so ready, and kind of blissed out from the build up. The masseur adds a second finger and begins to work Nick open, moving his fingers back and forth as he spreads them.
“This is what you need isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Nick gasps.
“Because you’re a needy slut, aren’t you?”
The sting of the words takes root in low in Nick’s stomach and fuels the burn. He loves it, the delicious tension of the words and sensations.
“Yes.”
And then there’s a third finger and Nick is pushing himself back onto the hand and the hormones must be doing something to him because he’s as open as he is in heat and just so turned on.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I’m a needy slut. I want it.” He rocks back against the fingers, “Please, I need it. I want your cock. Please, fuck please.”
And then the fingers are gone, but he finally feels it, the incredible pressure on his rim, the giving hands now digging into his hips, the burn that gives way to the pure satisfaction of being full as he feels the man pushing into him and gradually bottoming out. Nick’s moaning before he’s even being fucked properly. He feels a few tentative strokes, a frustratingly slow build that is nowhere near enough, and waits for it to get going.
“Please, you can fuck me hard, I really want it.” A few more strokes, a bit harder this time. Nick tries to focus on how good it feels to have the pressure on his hips and the feeling of skin moving together, and how full he is; It’s better, but something’s being held back, and it’s not completely working for him.
“Please, more, harder. Please!”
It carries on the same for a few strokes before Nick loses it a bit and growls behind him.
“For fuck’s sake, are you gonna fuck me or not?!”
“I don’t want to hurt your back. Does it feel okay?”
“Yeah, honestly, it’s fine - just do it.” Nick sounds pretty snappy at this point.
“And it’s definitely not going to hurt the baby?”
“Oh my god.” Nick hangs his head in exasperation, “No, Charlie, it’s not going to hurt the baby. Do you want to stop?”
“No, not unless you do? Sorry babe.” Charlie strokes his back soothingly.
“No sorries, do you need help?” Nick offers, his tone a bit gentler. Charlie still feels hard inside him but maybe he’s going to need something to help him get back in the right headspace.
“No, I’m good. You’re really wet. It’s really hot…I…I loved making you beg.” He runs his hands over Nick’s back, and down onto his hips, caressing the firm flesh.
“Yeah? I thought maybe I was going to win, but then when you started touching yourself…fuck I’m so desperate for you, Charlie. I couldn’t hold back. Please, I need you to fuck me, Charlie.” Nick’s whining again and he can feel Charlie shifting inside him. “Oh, Charlie.”
“You’re a slut just for me, aren’t you? I barely had to open you up, you’re aching for me.” Charlie reaches around to graze Nick’s erection where it hangs between his legs and starts to stroke it back and forth while Nick’s breath catches and he moans into the attention, clenching a little around Charlie’s length inside him. “Tell me this is all for me.”
Nick whimpers at his husband’s words.
“Only for you Charlie, I’m your little slut.” Nick moans, “Fuck I got so hot when you were massaging me and spreading me apart. Picturing you looking at me like that. Need you so badly, Char.”
“What do you need? God you’re so desperate aren’t you? So needy.”
“Need your cum. Need to feel you filling me up.”
“Touch yourself, I need to…mmmm,” Charlie massages Nick’s arse some more, digging his fingers in as he starts to move again, pulling out and then thrusting, slow and deep; focusing on the feeling of being wholly connected.
“So wet for me, Nick, you’re so ready to take me, aren’t you?” Nick groans with the thrill of another deep thrust, “Gonna fuck you like this.”
“God yeah…” Nick grunts out between Charlie’s hard thrusts, “Take me, Charlie. Use me. I want to be all yours.”
Nick starts moaning in earnest and Charlie can tell it’s good for him by the way he stops pushing back and lets Charlie lead, trusting him to give him what he needs. Charlie grips a little tighter and fucks Nick as hard as he can, losing himself in the tight heat and gentle scent of his husband.
“Gonna fuck you just like this, gonna give you everything, you’re amazing, Nick.”
Nick basks in the praise and leans his weight on one arm so he can touch himself with the other hand while Charlie drives into him, faster now, over and over. The room is filled with the smell of lavender and their mixed scents; the sound of skin on skin, both men moaning and panting, and gasping each other’s names as they build towards their orgasms.
“Fuck, you’re so hot like this. I wanna breed you all over again.”
“Fuck, Charlie…Charlie…Charlie…” Nick cries out as his orgasm crests, spilling over his hand and onto the bedding. He can feel that Charlie isn’t far behind and braces himself back on two hands just before Charlie comes hard with a groan, riding out his euphoria until he finishes and carefully arches over Nick’s back to hold him for a few moments while they pant together.
Charlie pulls out carefully, and grabs a cloth from the massage supplies for a quick cleanup.
“You’re incredible, darling, I love you so much.” Charlie whispers a litany of praise as he tends to Nick, and lays him down on a fresh towel before heading to the ensuite to sort himself out and fetch what he needs for a more thorough cleanup for Nick.
Afterwards, Charlie holds Nick, sliding a hand onto his stomach where there is a small, but now definitely noticeable, bump. Nick places his hand on top of Charlie’s, weaving their fingers together with a contented sigh. A soft cheek glides gently along Nick’s shoulder, and lips come to rest on the claiming mark, now long since healed. Charlie presses loving kisses there.
“How are you feeling?” he hums into his husband’s shoulder. Nick pulls Charlie’s arms a little tighter around him in response.
“Pretty fucking great. Thank you darling.” Charlie can hear the sleepiness making Nick’s voice heavy and they both heave another sigh. Charlie closes his eyes too.
“We need to make the most of this while you can still lie on your front,” Charlie murmurs.
“Mmmm,” Nick mumbles as he drifts off to sleep.