Unwinding Tensions

KC stepped into the quirky massage parlor tucked away in a strip mall next to a pawn shop that sold nothing but vintage radios. The place was called "Knot Knot," a pun that had made him chuckle when he first saw it online. He'd been nursing a knot in his shoulder from too many hours hunched over spreadsheets, but really, he was here for something more. Andrea's profile picture had caught his eye—sharp features, dark hair pulled into a neat bun, and a smile that promised relief of all kinds. KC had booked the full-hour session on a whim, his mind wandering to fantasies he'd never admit aloud. He wanted therapeutic, sure, but deep down, he hoped she'd pick up on his hints and turn it into something steamier.

The waiting area smelled like eucalyptus and fresh linen, with a fish tank bubbling in the corner where a single goldfish stared blankly at the world. KC signed in, his heart picking up pace as the receptionist waved him toward a door marked "Studio B." He stripped down in the small changing room, folding his clothes neatly on a shelf, then wrapped the thin robe around his waist. Naked underneath, he felt exposed already, his cock twitching at the thought of what might happen. He lay face-down on the table, the paper crinkling under him, and waited.

Andrea knocked softly before entering, her voice smooth and professional. "Hi, KC. I'm Andrea. Ready to get started?" She was taller than he'd imagined, her frame athletic under the loose white tunic and pants, with olive skin and eyes that sparkled under the soft overhead light. KC glanced over his shoulder, taking her in. "Yeah, absolutely. You're... you're so beautiful," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He meant it as a flirt, a way to test the waters, but it came out awkward, hanging in the air.

Andrea chuckled lightly, warming some oil between her hands. "Thanks, that's sweet. Let's focus on that shoulder first." She started with firm, circular presses along his traps, her fingers strong and precise. KC sighed into the table, the pressure melting away tension he didn't know he had. As she worked down his back, he murmured again, "God, your hands are magic. And seriously, you're stunning—do you get that a lot?" Andrea's touch paused for a split second, then resumed, a bit slower, more deliberate. She was getting the hint, alright. KC's mind raced; maybe she'd lean into it, let her hands drift lower, turn this into the erotic escape he craved.

The massage stayed therapeutic for the first twenty minutes—long strokes along his spine, kneading his glutes through the robe at first, then asking him to loosen it. KC obliged, letting the fabric fall away, exposing his ass to the cool air. Andrea's hands glided over his bare skin now, professional but with an edge, her thumbs pressing into the dimples above his cheeks. "You're tense here too," she said, her voice a touch lower. KC pushed it further: "It's because I've been thinking about this all week. You're making it hard to relax in the best way." He winced inwardly—corny, but fuck it, he was committed.

Andrea's hands wandered then, just a fraction. Instead of pulling back, she let her fingers trail along the inside of his thighs, brushing close to his balls without quite touching. KC's cock hardened against the table, trapped and aching. He shifted slightly, hoping she'd notice. "Feels good, right?" she asked, her breath warm near his ear as she leaned in to work a stubborn knot in his lower back. "More than good," KC replied, his voice husky. "You're incredible." The compliments were flowing now, each one a subtle nudge toward more.

She flipped him over halfway through, the robe discarded entirely. KC lay naked on his back, his erection tenting the air unapologetically. Andrea's eyes flicked down, a small smile playing on her lips. She started on his chest, oil-slick hands circling his nipples, which pebbled under her touch. "Beautiful yourself," she murmured, her fingers grazing his abs, inching toward his hips. KC's pulse thundered; this was it, the shift he wanted. Her hands finally cupped his inner thighs, thumbs pressing upward, brushing his balls. He gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. "Fuck, Andrea, yes..."

Emboldened, KC reached out, his hand grazing her arm. "I want more. Please." Andrea's expression shifted, confident, almost predatory. She locked the door with a soft click and dimmed the lights—not dramatically, just enough to soften the edges. "You sure about that, KC? Once we start, I take charge." Her voice had an undercurrent, something he couldn't place, but he nodded eagerly, his cock throbbing. She shed her tunic, revealing small, firm breasts under a sports bra, then her pants, sliding them down toned legs. KC's eyes widened as she stepped closer, her body lean and powerful.

But then he saw it. Between her legs, not the smooth pussy he'd imagined, but a thick cock, semi-hard and hanging heavy, balls tucked neatly beneath. Andrea was trans, packing a dick that was already swelling under his gaze. KC froze, shock slamming into him like ice water. "What the—Andrea, you... you have a..." He trailed off, face burning with embarrassment, confusion twisting his gut. He'd never even thought about this, straight as an arrow his whole life, chasing women in his fantasies. Now here he was, naked and hard on a table, staring at a cock that was starting to rival his own in size. "I... I didn't know. This isn't... fuck, I'm sorry."

Andrea didn't flinch. She stepped right up to the table, her dick inches from his face, fully erect now at a solid eight inches, veined and curving slightly upward. "You wanted more, KC. And you kept saying how beautiful I am. This is me. All of me." Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking once, making it twitch. KC's mouth went dry, his own erection wilting slightly from the shock, but a weird heat built in his chest—curiosity? Panic? He sat up halfway, torn between bolting and... something else. "I don't... I've never..."

"Shh." Andrea took charge seamlessly, her free hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down gently but firmly. "You don't have to know everything right now. Just feel." She climbed onto the table, straddling his chest, her weight pinning him. Her cock hovered over his lips, the musky scent hitting him—clean, with a hint of her skin. KC's mind reeled, embarrassed heat flooding his face, but he didn't pull away. Andrea's eyes locked on his, commanding. "Open up. Show me you want this."

Hesitant, confused, KC parted his lips. Andrea guided the head in, thick and warm against his tongue. "Suck it," she ordered, voice low and unyielding. KC did, awkwardly at first, lips stretching around the girth. It was salty, smooth, nothing like he'd expected. He gagged as she pushed deeper, hitting the back of his throat. "Relax," Andrea coached, her hand in his hair, not forcing but directing. "Breathe through your nose." KC tried, bobbing his head, taking more each time. Soon, he was deep-throating her, the shaft sliding past his tonsils, his throat bulging slightly. Tears pricked his eyes from the effort, but fuck, it was turning him on—the submission, the shock of it all. His cock hardened again, leaking pre-cum onto his stomach.

Andrea moaned, hips rocking slowly. "Good boy, KC. Just like that. Deeper." She thrust gently, fucking his mouth, her balls brushing his chin. KC submitted fully now, hands gripping her thighs, sucking with growing enthusiasm. The confusion ebbed into raw need; he was straight, or so he'd thought, but this—her taking control—had him hooked. Andrea pulled out after a few minutes, strings of spit connecting them, her dick glistening. "On your knees," she said, sliding off the table.

KC obeyed, dropping to the floor, the carpet rough on his knees. Andrea stood over him, stroking herself while he watched, mesmerized. "You like it, don't you? My cock in your mouth." He nodded, embarrassed but honest. "Yeah... fuck, yeah." She guided him back to it, and he deep-throated her again, slurping noisily, his own hand reaching for his dick. Andrea swatted it away. "Not yet. This is about you submitting to me."

She hauled him up, bending him over the table, ass in the air. KC's heart hammered—ass play? He'd never gone there, not even with ex-girlfriends. But Andrea's hands were on his cheeks, spreading them, a finger circling his hole. "Relax, KC. I'll make it good." She drizzled oil there, working one finger in slow, then two, scissoring gently. He groaned, pushing back despite the burn, his cock dripping. "Please... Andrea..."

"Beg for it." Her voice was steel.

"Fuck me. Please, fuck my ass." The words felt dirty, liberating.

Andrea positioned herself, the head of her cock pressing against his tight ring. No condom—she didn't mention one, and in the heat, KC didn't either. She pushed in, inch by inch, the stretch intense, bordering on pain. "Breathe," she murmured, one hand on his hip, the other reaching around to grip his cock in a firm handjob. The dual sensation—her dick filling him, her fist pumping him—made him see stars. "Oh shit, Andrea... it's so big."

She bottomed out, balls against his, then started thrusting, slow at first, building to a rhythm. Doggy style on the table, KC braced himself, moaning with each slap of skin. Andrea's reach-around was relentless, twisting over his head, thumbing the slit. "You love my cock in your straight ass, don't you?" she growled, picking up speed.

"Yes... fuck, yes!" KC was lost, submitting completely, the fullness overwhelming. She pounded him harder, the table creaking, her hand jerking him in time.

"Flip over," she commanded after a while, pulling out. KC scrambled onto his back, legs up. Andrea hooked them over her shoulders, folding him nearly in half, and slid back in. The angle was deeper, hitting his prostate dead-on. She fucked him like that, legs over shoulders, her body pressing down, breasts brushing his chest. KC's hands roamed her back, pulling her closer, the confusion gone—replaced by pure, animal need. "Harder," he gasped, and she obliged, hips snapping, her cock dragging inside him.

Andrea's hand returned to his dick, stroking fast now, the reach-around making him throb. "Gonna cum," he warned, but she didn't stop, fucking his ass raw, no barrier between them. Her own breaths grew ragged. "Me too. Take it all."

She slammed in one last time, burying deep, and unloaded—a massive cum shot, hot spurts flooding his ass, creaming him inside. The sensation pushed KC over, his cock erupting in her fist, ropes of cum splattering his chest and her hand. They rode it out together, Andrea grinding slow, milking every drop.

Finally, she pulled out, cum leaking from his stretched hole. KC lay there, spent, legs trembling as she lowered them. Andrea cleaned them both with warm towels, her touch gentle now, then helped him sit up. "You okay?" she asked, searching his face.

KC nodded, a shy grin breaking through. "More than okay. That was... intense. I didn't expect any of it, but fuck, Andrea, you're amazing." No shock left, just satisfaction, a new curiosity unlocked.

She smiled, dressing slowly. "Told you I take charge. Come back anytime—next one's on me." KC laughed, pulling on his clothes, already plotting his return. As he left the parlor, the goldfish still bubbling away, he felt lighter than ever, shoulder knot gone, and a secret thrill buzzing under his skin. Who knew a massage could rewrite the rules?

(Word count: 2487)