We always request male masseurs as we find they give a deeper, more satisfying massage. We also ask if we can go naked as we find it more exciting. So...me don’t allow it, but our guys had no objections.With hot oil, my masseur gently kneaded my back, shoulder, and arms. We had struck it lucky, the way he worked I could tell he knew what he was doing; gently warming the muscles before attempting anything deeper. Gliding his hot hands down my legs, he teased them apart, exposing my delicate sex.. No, he had too much here to leave the house, but hopefully removing all the furniture might allow him to go for more than a day without the weeping.The men from the church arrived to pick up the furniture. She had spent so much time selecting each piece. She would only allow solid, quality pieces into her home. The couch she had re-upholstered herself, twice. The first time shortly after the kids got over that stage where they spilled drinks everywhere they told not to take them and the last. But there was no movement from his legs. A panic stricken look came over his face as he exclaimed, "I can't move my legs. I'm numb down there. I can't feel a thing." Then realization hit him, "My back is broken. You broke my back, you son of a bitch, you broke my back." Good, then you won't run off while I arrange to have someone help me get your useless ass to the hospital. He went out into the hall and saw the ambulance driver who had been shot standing on his feet with the help of his. We mirrored each other's interests, starting at the shoulders and working down the spine until we cupped each other's buttocks, pulling us close together as we kissed with a desire not known before. Our kisses didn't last long as our breathing was too ragged - we wanted more. Somehow we landed on the sofa. She was underneath and I was trying to position myself.Neither of us knew about oral. All we had some vague knowledge of was 'penis', 'vagina', put one in the other. I kid you not. My sex.