Nude Shipmate's Massage

 In Junior college, I learned about diversity, in the Navy I met various ethnic friends.

We called one red headed sailor of Irish descent, "Judge" and "Roy-boy."

The first because his name was Roy Dean, the second because the ship TVs always played The Waltons reruns...everybody on the ship was called Bob-boy, Mark Boy...but, everyone agreed, Roy Boy had a nice ring to it...well, except the moniker Judge Roy Dean, that a Texan hung on him earlier.

There are distinct times and places, where casual nudity is the norm, and expressing any form of modesty is looked upon as non-masculine. Other times, you just don't look nor show, even if everyone in the room has already seen it.

Let's face it, everybody knew the Judge had the biggest pecker on our ship.

Having often run into red heads in swimming pool bathhouses, gyms, the military, and as a rodeo masseur, they either have small engines, or a schlong of wonder and awe...nothing in-between. 

Well, Judge Roy Dean had that schlong. He didn't go around showing it off, mind you. However, when he schucked the shorts, conversations stopped, as if a Bishop had entered the room. 

Not only length, and girth...but, being born in rural Montana, he had all the working parts still on it. (Making us tiny-dicked, circ'd guys even more jealous. At least he shared viewership. Hell,  he'd mutually jack-off, during down time, showing us what I later learned to be, foreskin-worship. Even straight guys would grab a handful, if private enough.)

Roy hangs with the best of them

Seeing Roy-Boy hard, hung, and hooded was a bonus treat. The half-inch of pink, tip pucker, was stretched thin around that big ole bulbous head of his.

My route to rodeo masseur started as a young teen. My old man was a mechanic and had a transmission fall on his back.

I rubbed it with liniment all Summer. Got pretty good.

I then took classes at a Junior College, while still in the Navy.

One of those times, we were asked to bring a buddy/patient/friend. I hadn't realized it was time for the class to start to get comfortable with nudity during massage therapy.

So, I invited Judge.

So we sat for 5 minutes of lecture, a 10 minute slideshow of men and women getting nude massages.

Then the instruction.

We could, work with who we brought, swap subjects, or use waiting volunteers in another room.

I asked Roy if he, wanted to get nekkid in a coed environment. If so, who did he want a massage from? Me or a female student.

[There were 5 or 6, of the friends that left, but, About as many stayed.]

Some students swapped, some got the volunteer replacements.

Roy went to undress behind his screen. I set up the massage table.

He returned holding a modesty towel. Others did too, while still others didn't, they stood there naked. Even others grabbed a full sized towel, wrapped around breasts.

The teacher started us out (with Roy) face down.  I worked his feet and legs, arms and back. I only moved the towel to rub his glutes.

"I'm not going into the crack." I assured him.

"My arms are limp, couldn't fight ya off if ya did."

For about the 14th time, he replied, "uunnnn."

Then, I worked his side, hips.

He rolled onto the micro tea towel, and his orange-sized balls' pouch, with his lengthy-limp kielbasa, was fully visible to the classroom. Even totally limp, this was an amazing view.

A naked, big-tittied, girl almost immediately wandered over.

She spoke to me. "Why firm pressure, little circles; ...what about Swedish?"

"My old man was real hairy, and I didn't want to twist up, and pull those hairs...it became a habit."

At her question, Judge cracked his eyes open. Upon beholding her ample rack, and, [in-his-face,] twat...that anaconda came to life.

I (and the half-room staring at his stiffy,) saw his nuts move on their own, then, the zig zagged pipe of limp meat started to swell, straighten, and eventually cantilever. 

The mushroom, half-covered head, pointing straight at her trimmed, pretty-pot. To say she was impressed, would be an understatement.

"Can you ask him to lay on his back?"

"Uunn." He rolled onto his back. Periscope up proud.

She put her hands on his hip and mimicking my moves, stated, "so we only move the skin as it naturally  is loose?"

"That's the limit of my circles."

Roy-Boy's straight up beanpole wobbling in mid-air precariously.

"It's okay sir, you're not the first, erections often happen." (I don't recall ever getting a massage from a nekkid broad with big tits...)

The instructor wandered over, "Paul, Betty,... do you mind, sir? ...this is a teaching moment."

A half-absent, "uunnn," later,

"Class! Cases of erections occur quite frequently. You must never invade a client's space. Always ask permission before any contact...and remember..."

"No happy endings." Chanted the class.

"Uunnn" relaxedly moaned Judge Roy Dean.

As we co-worked the top of his thighs, Roy's stiff ole pecker was waving side to side like a metronome!

"Sorry buddy, you want me to get a towel to throw across it?"

"Fuck it, ...let them look. It feels too nice to change a thing." He mumbled mostly coherently, boney tower skyward.

The big tilted gal continued, copying my style, with a light banter between us.

Wait! SHE'S MARRIED TO THE INSTRUCTOR?!? ...as well as, naked in front of everyone?

As we rubbed his feet the tower was collapsing.

Going home in the car, I teased, "Dude, your boner display was the highlight of the class!"

"How'd you like your Blow job to be the highlight of the trip home?" He jovially, countered. 

"Umm, let me pull over..."

If you enjoy my BJ/JO storytelling,  tell your buddies, (if not shoot me an email.)

If you've  had similar experiences, comment below.