Shopping with Mother was one of my least favorite things to be doing on my day off, but as she has gotten older our times together get fewer. I knew it would be a good two hours in the store.

 

As we pushed the cart through the store, she was picking up this and that. complaining about prices, and putting it back on the shelf. I would then pick it up and put it in the cart.

 

The one saving grace on these outings was the fact that the store was usually full of single men. All shapes and sizes doing the shopping-cart stroll.

 

As we went from aisle to aisle, I noticed a large man having trouble reaching a box on a high shelf. I went over to see if I could help.

 

"Thanks," he said, "I have a hard time reaching that high since I broke my shoulder."

 

"No problem," I said as I handed him the potato buds he was trying to get. As I stood there sizing him up, I judged him to be about 50-55. He was all of 285lb, wearing shorts and a T-shirt that barely covered his furry tummy. I could smell his manly scent, and it was driving me crazy. Not dirty or sweaty. Just that odor some men are lucky enough to have. The scent of a man. But, considering that I was shopping with my mother, I knew I had to be content just to look. As we continued down the aisle, I looked back to see the big man smiling my way.

Had he noticed the lust in my eyes?

 

Dropping Mom off at home, I headed for my favorite spot to have my lunch at a picnic table under the trees. The VFW park. It was a nice place to go and relax under the trees. Its being Tuesday, the park was deserted save for a few workers still cleaning up from the weekend storm. Sitting there, I noticed a car pulling in and circling the lot.

 

Someone's cruising the park, I thought.

 

I watched when the driver pulled into a space and parked. From where I sat, I could see him clearly when he got out and started walking toward me. He looked familiar, but I stopped short of calling out when I saw it was the big man I had assisted in the store!

 

Bold as brass, he walked right up to me and sat on the edge of the table.

 

"Hello again!" he said cheerfully. "Seems I'm not the only one knows a good place to lunch on a lazy afternoon!"

 

Flustered, I managed to smile back and told him I went there many times to enjoy the park during the week. "What brings you way out here in the country?" I asked.

 

"I had to have my shoulder looked at over in the Veteran's hospital," he said, "since I fell off my roof doing what I wasn't supposed to be doing. They're a bit rough there. I think my doctor is second cousin to the Marquis de Sade. I always stop by here afterward to relax and get the feeling back in my arm before driving home."

 

"What you need is a good massage to ease the pain," I said. "Do you take therapy there, also?"

 

"No, he said. "I never put much faith in those people. Always figured they were just sex houses in disguise."

 

I laughed. "Should I take that personally? I'm a therapist!"

 

"Sorry," he said, his cheeks coloring from embarrassment. "I never met a male therapist before. Most of the ones I have come across in the past were hulking broads who got off giving pain, not relieving it."

 

"Well, then," I said with a grin, "Let's see what I can do to give you some relief!"

 

I asked him to slip his shirt off.

 

"Right here in the park?"

 

"Sure! Give 'em a thrill with that manly chest of yours!"

 

He stripped off his shirt as I stepped over behind him. He had a forest of silver fur curling around his back from his chest. Good thing he couldn't feel the heat in my gaze or see the drool I was afraid might be frothing at the corners of my mouth. He sat facing away from me now or he might have noticed the trembling of my sweaty hands as I lifted them to his shoulders and touched that hot flesh.

 

Composing myself, I tried looking at him with a more professional eye. Here was a man who had known hard work. From the scar on his shoulder, I could tell it wasn't just a break. "Exactly how did you get this scar?"

 

"I fell into a truck full of roofing tools. They thought I was going to lose my arm, but I told them to save it. The VA is good at taking shortcuts. That was a year ago, and only now am I beginning to get the feeling back in my wrist and fingers."

 

I kneaded his shoulder, still struggling against the vision of kneading something else far below. "This may take awhile. Too bad we're not at my office. We need a flat table, but higher than this picnic table."

 

"Hey, why not!" he exclaimed. "I'm not doing anything this afternoon. What better way to pass the day? How far away is it?"

 

"Not far," I said, unable to resist running my hands lustfully over his back. "The office is closed on Tuesdays, so we will be alone."

 

At my clinic, I sent him to the back, telling him to take off his clothes and put on the robe hanging there if he felt more comfortable with something on. Meanwhile, I checked my messages and locked the door.

 

Washing my hands when he came in, I noticed he wasn't wearing the robe. He stood there naked, looking at my diplomas lined up on the wall. A little dazed by his enormous appeal, I couldn't help but stare at each of his beautiful parts in turn. My head was in a spin.

 

"Okay, let's get started!" his cheerful voice penetrated my intense concentration on his magnificent ass.

 

"Stretch out on the exam table," I told him, wiping beads of sweat from my forehead, "on your back."

 

He lay down.

 

Hovering over him like a starving man about to feast on his favorite foods, I began with his wrist as an appetizer, slowly, sensually, sinking in my fingertips until I felt his tendons twitch. Inspired, my nimble fingers worked their way up his arm roughly enough to insure penetration, but with a tenderness as gentle as a caress.

 

Approaching his shoulder, I could tell this poor man had been through hell by the way his muscles tightened up in anticipation of the expected pain.

 

"Trust me," I said. "There will be no pain."

 

He looked up at me like a trustful child. Our gazes locked together as I ran my hands over his massive, hairy chest. Without looking away from his lustrous, wide-set eyes, I walked around the table, my hands playing his muscles like a fine violin until they touched his inner thighs, and instinct made me lower my gaze.

 

He was as hard as I.

 

"I guess I should have warned you," he said apologetically. "Any time a therapist touches me like this, man or woman, I get hard. Can't explain it. Just the way it is. I get touched. I get hard. That's why I opted out of therapy at the VA. Too embarrassing for them, let alone for me. They weren't sorry to see me go, hee-hee!"

 

"Well. I won't let you go, hee-hee," I giggled back. "It'll just be a secret between us guys. What's more natural than a hard-on on a real man?"

 

He made no reply, just closed his eyes and seemed to relax, but his thick cock stayed high in the sky. I reached for the bottle of aloe on the shelf. He loved my working it smoothly into his calves, His eyes being closed, I continued my feast watching his dick bounce every time I penetrated a nerve. Not until I had moved back around to his shoulder did I see a bead of pre-cum dripping in a long string from his dick.

(CONTINUED)