Therapy for Chris
2006-12-03 @ 11:12 a.m.

So, I invited Chris over. I made him dinner. I had tremendous success with baking two apple pies over Thanksgiving so I baked another one, just for him. Again, it came out close to perfection. He ate damn near half of it during the course of the night.

After dinner, he was still tense, less so than before, but it was still obvious. I find the physical results of stress fascinating. Stress can literally invade the body and lodge itself in the muscles, particularly the neck and back. I could feel the stress in the knots in Chris's neck and upper back.

Something had to be done.

I told him to wait on the couch. I slipped into a silk nightie, went into the bathroom and arranged everything. I drew him a hot bath and arranged some scented candles. He knew what I was up to and groaned: "Please, nothing girlie."

"Trust me", I replied. Do men think women are stupid? Do they think we are wasting time when we indulge in hot baths and aroma therapy? There's a reason why we manipulate our environment, live in a home rather than a mere house. Surroundings often have a significant impact on mood.

I lit a few lavender-scented candles. They let off a light aroma, nothing too heavy. I put some bath salts in the tub. Again, nothing that would endanger anyone's masculinity. I then told him to get into the tub, close his eyes and soak for awhile. "Just try it," I said.

When I entered the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Chris was in the tub, soaking. His eyes were closed and he seemed more relaxed. "This actually works a bit," he said. "Very relaxing." I handed him a glass of wine.

Kneeling down next to the tub, I lathered his chest and bathed him. As soon as I touched him, his cock began to grow. He smiled. I ignored that for awhile and went about my business.

I soaped up my hands and then went to work. Gripping his cock lightly, I worked my hand up and down slowly. The smile never left his face. I knew it relaxed him because instead of that intense look many men get, he just kept smiling, accompanied by the occasional sigh.

When he came, he jetted out a huge stream of cum all over his chest and stomach. I mentioned before that Chris has a big cock. It's probably a good eight inches and thick. Does cock size have any correlation with the volume of ejaculate? I have no idea, but when Chris cums, it can be a heavy load.

After he finished, Chris looked at me and smiled. I looked at his cum-drenched chest and stomach and pouted. "Hey, I just cleaned that."

I grabbed a wash cloth and cleaned him up, kissed him and told him to enjoy his bath. After he got out, I led him to the bedroom and gave him a lengthy massage, kneading the remaining knots out of his neck and back.

He fell asleep about fifteen minutes after I was done with the massage.

We took a long drive on Saturday afternoon, explored some bookstores and had dinner. Unfortunately, Chris had to work Saturday night so our weekend was cut short.

It may sound antiquated, but I get exquisite pleasure from pleasing my men and providing them a place where they can get away from their cares. Perhaps it's a maternal instinct, some nurturing drive. I enjoy nursing them when they're ill, easing their worries and promoting their accomplishments. Their pleasure is my reward.