Chapter 1: The Unexpected Prescription
I winced as another sharp pain stabbed through my lower stomach, a relentless ache that had plagued me for days. Desperate for relief, I dragged myself to Dr. Hargrove’s clinic, hoping for a quick fix. The doc, a stern woman with a no-nonsense air, handed me a prescription slip after a brief exam. ‘Take this to a certified masseuse,’ she barked. ‘They’ll know what to do. It’s crucial for your condition.’
I squinted at the scribbled note, barely legible, and decided to head to the one place I knew I’d be in trusted hands—Granny Lila’s massage parlor. Granny wasn’t just family; she was a legend in town, her small shop a haven for aching bodies and weary souls. At 68, she had the strength of a bull and the sass of a stand-up comedian. I figured if anyone could sort me out, it’d be her.
‘Hey, Gran,’ I mumbled, handing over the slip as I shuffled into her cozy, lavender-scented studio. Her sharp gray eyes scanned the paper, and a sly grin crept across her weathered face.
‘Well, damn, boy,’ she chuckled, slapping the counter. ‘Doc’s prescribed you a dick massage. Says it’s for tension relief in the pelvic region. Serious business.’
I nearly choked on my own spit. ‘A what now?’ My voice cracked, heat rushing to my face. ‘Gran, you can’t be serious.’
She waved a dismissive hand, her bangles jangling. ‘Oh, hush up, kid. I’ve been doin’ this for decades. Medical necessity, nothin’ more. I’ve worked on more cocks than a rooster farm, and I’m damn good at it. Now, strip down below the waist and hop on the table. Let’s get this over with.’
My jaw hit the floor, but her unflinching gaze told me there was no arguing. Mortified, I shuffled behind the privacy screen, peeling off my jeans and boxers with trembling hands. I lay on the padded table, legs spread wide apart as she’d instructed, my bare ass and cock exposed under the dim light. I felt like a damn fool, my heart pounding as I heard her shuffle closer with a bottle of oil.
‘Relax, sugar,’ Granny Lila drawled, her tone all business as she squirted warm oil into her calloused palms. ‘Ain’t no big deal. Just a job to me. You’re gonna feel better in no time.’
‘This is so weird, Gran,’ I groaned, covering my face with my hands. ‘I can’t believe I’m flashing my junk at you.’
She snorted, rubbing her hands together. ‘Boy, I’ve seen it all. You ain’t special. Now shut up and let me work.’
Her fingers, surprisingly deft for her age, wrapped around my shaft with a firm, clinical grip. The oil slicked over my skin, warm and smooth, as she started a slow, rhythmic stroke from base to tip. I bit my lip, trying to think of anything but the sensation—baseball stats, grocery lists—but holy hell, it was impossible. Each glide of her hands sent a jolt of forbidden pleasure through me, my cock betraying me as it grew hard as steel in her grasp.
‘There we go,’ she muttered, unfazed, her focus intense. ‘Just tension releasin’. Let it happen.’
‘Gran, I—I’m sorry,’ I stammered, my voice tight as I felt myself throbbing under her touch. ‘I can’t help it. It feels... too good.’
She cackled, not missing a beat. ‘That’s the point, dummy. Your body’s just doin’ what it’s supposed to. Now breathe, or you’ll pop too soon and waste my time.’
Her hands worked with expert precision, kneading and stroking, the pressure building in my core like a dam about to burst. My hips twitched involuntarily, my breath coming in short, desperate pants. I was sweating now, my skin flushed, every nerve on fire as she massaged my aching, horny length. The room spun, the scent of oil and lavender mixing with the raw heat of my arousal.
‘Gran, I’m gonna—’ I gasped, but before I could finish, the wave crashed over me. I came hard, a guttural groan ripping from my throat as hot cum spilled over her hands. She didn’t flinch, her grip steady as she milked me through it, prolonging the orgasm with slow, deliberate strokes until I was a trembling, panting mess.
‘There ya go,’ she said matter-of-factly, wiping her hands on a towel as if she’d just finished kneading dough. ‘All done. Tension’s gone, ain’t it?’
I lay there, chest heaving, utterly humiliated but undeniably relieved. My face burned as I croaked, ‘I’m so sorry, Gran. I didn’t mean to—’
‘Pfft,’ she cut me off, rolling her eyes. ‘Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for. It’s medical, boy. My job. Now get dressed and quit actin’ like I just stole your virtue. We got four more sessions to go.’
My eyes widened. ‘Four more?’
She smirked, crossing her arms. ‘Oh, honey, we’re just gettin’ started.’
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