Forbidden Fitting Room Massage

The cramped fitting room of the boutique already smelled of expensive wine and male sweat. I was standing with my back to the mirror when his palm landed on my lower back, just a little lower than it should have. "Relax your shoulders, Dima..." the masseur named Roman said in a low voice, and his tone alone made my stomach tighten.

We'd met half an hour ago. I'd come in to buy a suit, he turned out to be a sales consultant who also offered to "work out the tension after a long day." A glass of red, then another, then a third—and now here we were, the two of us in a fitting room with the curtain drawn. The light was dim, just a small lamp above the mirror.

"You always look at clients like that?" I asked hoarsely, feeling his fingers slowly slide up my back beneath my shirt.

"Only the ones who look back," Roman smirked. His breath burned against my neck. He was about ten years older than me, solid, with dark stubble and eyes that were devouring me right now.

I turned around. Our gazes collided. The wine had gone to my head—or maybe it was just him. My palms landed on his chest. The fabric of his black t-shirt was warm.

"I'm not gay..." I breathed out, even though I already knew it was a lie.

"And I'm not asking," Roman replied, pressing me back against the wall. His lips crashed onto mine, hard and demanding. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue invaded.

Roman's hands quickly undid my shirt. Buttons scattered across the carpet. He ran his palms over my chest, pinched my nipple, and I arched into him. "Fuck..." escaped my lips.

"Quiet," he whispered against my mouth. "Thin walls in here."

But his hand was already moving lower, gripping my hard cock through my trousers. I jerked, thrusting my hips into his palm. Roman smirked, unzipped me, and pulled my erection out. Hot, heavy, already slick at the tip.

"Beautiful cock," he murmured, dropping to his knees right on the fitting room floor. I watched him wet his lips, then take me into his mouth. Deep. Straight down his throat.

"Oh, fuck..." I gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair. His mouth was hot, wet, his tongue working the veins, and then he started sucking hard, rhythmically, staring straight into my eyes. Saliva ran down the shaft, dripping onto the floor. I fucked his mouth, no longer holding back, thrusting my hips until the head hit the back of his throat.

Roman pulled off, breathing hard. Spit glistened on his lips.

"I want to fuck you," he said flat-out. "Turn around."

I spun to face the mirror. My hands pressed against the cold glass. Roman quickly slicked me up with some cream from his pocket—apparently he always carried it. Two fingers slid into me easily, stretching me. I bit my lip to keep from moaning too loud.

"Come on... faster..." I managed.

He stood behind me. I heard his pants drop. His thick cock pressed between my ass cheeks. Hot, wet, huge. Roman gripped my hip with one hand, guiding the head to my hole with the other.

"Breathe," he whispered, and pushed inside.

I gasped. Pain and pleasure all at once. He entered slowly but deep, until his balls pressed against mine. Then he started to move. Gently at first, then harder. The mirror rattled with every thrust. In the reflection, I could see his face contorting with pleasure, see him biting his lip as he watched his thick cock disappear into my ass.

"Fuck me harder..." I breathed. "I want to feel all of you."

Roman growled, grabbed my hair, and slammed into me. Skin slapping against skin filled the fitting room. His balls smacked against mine, his cock hammering my prostate until I saw stars. I stroked myself with one hand, the other braced against the mirror.

"I'm gonna cum..." I groaned.

"Cum," he exhaled against the back of my neck. "I want to watch you spray the mirror."

I couldn't hold back. Hot cum shot onto the glass in thick ropes. At the same moment, Roman drove in especially deep and stilled. I felt him pulsing inside me, flooding my ass with hot cum. His moans were low, animalistic. He came for a long time, thrusting shallowly, pushing every last drop into me.

We froze, breathing hard. His cock was still inside me. Cum began to slowly leak down my thighs.

Roman kissed my neck, gently, almost tenderly.

"That was the best massage of my life," he said quietly.

I smiled, still trembling.

"Book me for the next session... just skip the suit."

"Deal," he replied, and slowly pulled out of me. I felt the emptiness and immediately wanted him back.

We stood there for a long time, pressed together in the dim fitting room, until voices of other shoppers drifted in from beyond the curtain. But we didn't give a damn anymore.