Chapter 8 ///theMassage

The sunset bathed the hotel room in golden tones, the curtains waving with the salty breeze slipping in from the balcony. Adrián and Raúl, exhausted after days of debauchery, decided to pamper themselves with a private massage. “Something relaxing, love,” Raúl had said, his hand grazing Adrián’s sculpted pecs, still sensitive after the sauna session with Marcos. “But with our special touch.” Adrián smiled, his 18-centimeter cock, cinnamon-colored and with trimmed hair, throbbing under his jeans. “We always make it special,” he replied, kissing him, his pecs colliding with Raúl’s hairy chest. The guilt over his secrets—Leo, Carlos, Diego, Javier, Marcos—weighed on him, but the thrill of what he had lived and his trust in Raúl kept him afloat. Soon he would confess, but tonight he wanted to burn once more.

The hotel assigned them Esteban, a masseur whose reputation among the guests was legendary. When he knocked on the door, Raúl opened it, and both were left breathless. Esteban was a spectacle: dark-skinned, about 24 years old, with a voluptuous body that overflowed with strength. His biceps, enormous and defined, strained the white uniform T-shirt, and his buttocks, round and muscular, seemed sculpted by years of physical work. His hands, large and muscular, promised a firm touch. His face, with dark eyes and a shy smile, contrasted with his imposing presence. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said, his voice deep but professional, carrying a folding massage table and a bag with oils. “Who goes first?”

Adrián, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, raised his hand. “I’ll start. Raúl, wait outside? I want to surprise you afterward.” Raúl laughed, his 19-centimeter cock hardening at the idea of Adrián relaxed and aroused. “I like that idea, love,” he said, kissing him deeply, his hairy pecs brushing against Adrián’s. “Enjoy it.” With a wink, he went out onto the balcony, closing the sliding door, leaving Adrián and Esteban alone in the room.

Esteban unfolded the table with precise movements, his biceps flexing, his buttocks tensing under the tight pants. “Take off your clothes and lie face down,” he instructed, his tone professional but with a warm nuance. Adrián obeyed, undressing completely, his semi-erect cock resting against the table, his firm buttocks exposed. Esteban, seeing him, swallowed, his eyes traveling over the sculpted pecs and tanned skin. “You have an impressive body,” he said, pouring warm oil into his hands, the lavender aroma filling the air.

The massage began with impeccable professionalism. Esteban’s large hands, warm and firm, slid over Adrián’s back, kneading the muscles with perfect pressure. Each movement was a balance between strength and softness, his fingers sinking into the knots, drawing sighs from Adrián. “Fuck, you’re good,” Adrián murmured, his body relaxing, but his cock hardening against the table. Esteban smiled, his hands moving down to Adrián’s buttocks, massaging them in slow ...