Rodeo Rubdown

 I suppose I oughta mention, I was a standby, or relief, rodeo masseur....usually involved feeling those strong young bucks' back.

When the primary masseur was booked up, I handled his client overflow. Also, I took the walk-ins, if any...
The "available" sign was hanging on the door handle of my trailer. So I had to stop reading when I heard the door get pulled open.
I was surprised to see a man climbing in, wearing rag-tag overalls and still in his clown makeup.

(Okay, I know they prefer Bullfighting gear.)

 "Doc says I got a pulled groin, n' that a whole-body massage might could help. I ain't had a massage in years."
I addressed him with the standard greeting "Well, Howdy. Turn the sign. Lock the door. You can undress behind that screen, ...you'll find a hook for your clothes back there, too.
Sign, and bring the form, with you"

A moment later, an older, slim, massively hung and hairy sasquatch, was standing there, holding the paper form, hanging the clipboard behind his hat, scratching between his shoulder blades.

Slim was naked head to toe...only the rodeo makeup and hat broke the image of the fit, sexy, uncut, senior.
As he began to move toward the table, 

For his modesty, I quickly said, "You can grab a towel on the desk behind the screen."
His massive, yet well proportioned, meat parts were swinging as he walked toward the table... "Awe, no...I couldn't. I'd feel naked without my makeup."
(You are very, very naked! I wanted to tell him,) 

But, by now he'd begun sprawling, his hefty naked dangle, dragging across and down, onto the table's white sheet, face down.
I began my Ranchhand Rubdown, a technique I developed to minimise hair-pulling, and not to use froo-froo scented, specialty oils. ...On the counter I have the liniment, I use only if asked (printed BOLDLY on the form.)

I asked him if he had any other specific injuries, concerns, or requests.
"Welp, ...if I wasn't injured pretty much everywhere, then, I'd probably still be competing...But specific? Ahm guessin' just my right groin."
"Alright then, ...let me know if it gets too hot or cold in here, after all, y'all're  the nekkid one."

While he lay face-down, I rubbed his arms, neck, back, and then, feet and lower legs.
Glacing between those thigh trunks, I could see that furry covered mass of man-meat, his testicles laying atop, all squashed between his thighs, resting on the girth of his wand of wonder, whose moist tip was sneaking out of the meat-hooded confines, clearly displayed. Only what I presumed was the smaller testicle, crested above the midway pinch of his dual tree trunks. I could proceed, but, a large section of my path was blocked, by the sleepy serpent. 

I could also tell he was in THE ZONE...a state where patients lose touch with absolute consciousness...and end up balanced in a near hypnotic zoned-out dreamscape...happens a lot.

I rubbed his hamstring and the easily-available part of the legs, with a minimal incidental grazing of his dangling parts, even kneading the meaty-mound parts of his furry buttocks. 

I then had him roll onto his side, and, while usually, there is a small towel held as they move, his massive warm scrotum sagged and dragged across the cool sheet, outlining his two goose-eggs, the upper one hanging off the edge of his upper thigh, the lower bulged in its limp sporran next to the bent dick upon the sheet below, resembling a Dali painting 

I worked on his arms and shoulders. I was massaging his hip when he suddenly broke the silence, mumbling in a language only a dentist could understand, "Man, this is nice! LIKE my arms are Lead."
"We're gonna finish your legs chest and abs..," I soothed.
I worked on BOTH shins. And on his knees/upper leg/deep groin...
His prodigious meat was leaning all over half of his thigh. I said, "Lessen you hold Godzilla outta the way...we're not gonna get up to that Groin.."

He did a modest strain at lifting an arm... "I can't move my arms, pardner...just shove around anything in the way. It won't bite anymore."

With a green light to fondle the folicle filled fun sac, and meat whistle, I continued up his thigh to his groin tendon, all while trying to hold that "more-than-handful" aside, lifted precariously, with my free hand. I wasn't actively trying to give a "happy ending"...but, YOU try to rub one hand in a circle, while holding a gallon Zipper lock bagful of meatballs in the other! Now throw in a snake the size of a Kielbasa, with a mind of it's own! I felt it definitely firming up.

Before moving to the other leg, I moved up to his chest and stomach area...by the time I got to just above his belly button area, his hard pecker was swaying in a stiff arc, side to side, like an inverted Grandfather Clock pendulum, the tip wetly brushing the edge of my hand...
I said, "Looks like your Godzilla just tried to bite me..."
Eyes still closed, he mumbled, "No man, I take blood thinner now, It won't get hard anymore..."
"Well, I'm gonna finish your last hip and thigh...maybe it'll calm down again."
I worked on his final thigh, his perked-up pecker bouncing side-to-side, like a flagpole on a windy day, with every roll of his thigh muscle mush. 

This went on five whole minutes, other than him uttering an occasional 'uhn'... there was no change in his rigid North Pole seeking uncut wand, waving like a seismograph needle...
He almost snored, as I once again, held those heavy, hairy balls to access admission to his upper thigh and the indicated pulled-groin tendon.
Then, when I was done, and lifted off the nustsack into a comfortable appearing array. I told him it is time to come back to earth...  and stepped aside. 

As I began to wrap up paperwork, I heard, a gasp.
I glanced up to see his hands were still at his side, and his rock-hard Wonder wand spurt a blob onto his belly-pelt, the second pulse, was much slower, and the viscous  treat was rappelling  the length of the hands-free under-shaft. Followed by a faint, "uhn."

His nuts, having tightened for the flush, were relaxing into the saggy sac'ed Valley of his thigh-fur.

I said, "Mr. Slim...I guess you"re gonna want that towel now?" 

He was awake, but aloof...

"Wha...?"

"Dang, Dude, I was way over here when your erect penis just ejaculated." (Deciding it was best at this time to use clinical terms...)

"You didn't hear me." He groggily tried to argue. "I take blood thinner. It ain't been hard in years."

I grabbed a towel, "Roll onto your side. Let me see your hand...feel that? It's your hardon, buddy. And, this..." I moved his hand up to his wet chest, "Is your sperm..."

He sniffed his fingers, "I wish my wife was still alive to see this...I'm so excited, I don't know who I'd tell first!"

"Well, I saw Godzilla wake up and spit, Buddy. I guess I'm the first to know, already! Now, you don't hafta tell nobody, ...at least, that it don't work like it's supposed to anymore."

I wrestled him upright, being sure to lift his balls out, so as not to be pinched under his legs.

I'll get your clothes...

"How much would it cost me to get the next session, too?" He tentatively asked.

"What? You still need more?"

"I know this costed $75...and I wanna pay $100, with tip and all...but, I hate to suddenly be putting on any clothes after, um, I have...well, you know...

"I'd pay for the next session, just to sit here and have a cup of coffee with ya." 

So he did. He sat there, his furry hips on the edge of the massage bed. I got him a bowl of warm water, and a towel to clean the thick jism from his chest hair and foreskin.

I sat transfixed at his massive scrotum supporting his wide and long, naturally hooded prong.

That silly Rodeo Makeup obscuring his identity. He remained naked for the next half hour, sipping his cup.

I drank my coffee with his manly display right in front of me...the proportions were so balanced, they hardly seemed as massive as they were... But, rather, proper, a thing of beauty. I almost accepted the garish Rodeo Makeup as natural...

During our coffee, he told me, since the All-School Swim Meet in High School back in Waco, he knew he had the

biggest overall Cock and balls...not JUST at his own school and teams, but in whole area. He's seen longer dicks with tiny balls, he's seen bigger balls with way shorter cocks..

He paid for both one hour sessions, and tipped well...even tho' the 2nd session only consisted of a 45 minute, all too nekkid, cup of coffee, and chat.

He started dressing...his buff old body skulking into an oversize shirt, pair of cutoffs, and suspenders.

He left me with this last morsel: It was his rodeo coach that told him...because he'd been given the gift. "ALWAYS wear your bulge with pride, and ALWAYS be the dude that gets nekkid first... and dressed last." 

(Hell, them's words ta live by, whether you have a big dick or not.)

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

If you've had similar experiences, comment below.

Check out my photo blog here:

https://homegrownnudemen.blogspot.com/2022/04/trace-james-35mm-bw-session.html

Those  that made it this far, I'll show the sexy dude I dressed as the rodeo clown, as closely as possible to the real guy.

You're Welcome.

Please consider following.

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

If you've had similar experiences, comment below.

Check out my photo blog here:https://homegrownnudemen.blogspot.com/2022/04/trace-james-35mm-bw-session.html