Happy Endings

Kellie didn't look amused. He said, "I'll be back in a minute," and shut the door.
Monty began undressing, tossing his clothing onto the chair. As he did he read Kellie's certificates, his California license and the degree he got from a local college. The music was the same as last time, chimes, whales, ocean waves. Monty climbed naked on the table, tugging the sheet to cover his ass and positioned his head on the face rest. Staring at the floor below him, anticipating Kellie's touch, Monty felt his cock thicken. He adjusted it so it lay upright, assuming he would get hard again. Just about ready to fall asleep from his exhaustion, Monty heard a knock, then the door open. He watched for Kellie's feet through the donut shaped ring, feeling him straightening out the sheet on his back, and the cushion, which was under his legs.
"Same thing, Monty?" Kellie ran his hand lightly over Monty's back, making Monty's cock throb.
"Yes."
"Okay, babe."
Babe. Was it affection or what he said to all the clients? Monty began inhaling and exhaling deeply, letting go the stress he built up for decades. Massage therapy was relatively new to him. It wasn't until recently that he had gone to a massage therapist. He wasn't too impressed with the technique and surely didn't reach any type of mediation plane like he had with Kellie. Kellie was a master. Perhaps that was why he was in a club so elite. All the employees of this establishment were top in their field. It was what Monty aspired for with his own business.
He heard Kellie pump oil into his hands and rub them together. The scent of peppermint and lavender pervaded the air and instantly Monty felt better. Kellie's contact sent a shockwave of pure pleasure through Monty. Oh, yes. I love your touch.
Timing his breathing with Kellie's movements, Monty was able to exhale as Kellie pushed down on his back, making some of his vertebrae crack back into place. "I needed that."
Kellie chuckled.
Keeping his eyes open, Monty watched as Kellie's feet made passing steps around him. Kellie's long reach made Monty tingle from his toes to his scalp.
He moaned, low, long and deep as Kellie began working the knots between his shoulder blades. Fuck! Monty's cock was thick and throbbing under him. This was by no means a massage with the intent to seduce, and maybe that was why it was.
Imagines of slimy ads in the back of gay magazines for 'massages' read like whorehouse deals. Hinting the customer would be satisfied in every way… Happy endings…
The thought revolted Monty. Overseas he'd been to those types of businesses, his fellow officers pretending it was a gag to go, getting drunk, letting some foreigner jerk you off after getting a rubdown. It sucked. Back in those days, Monty would rather service himself than be forced into having a woman try to jack him off.
But he bowed to the pressure, especially when he was young and stupid.
Kellie's hands made long sweeps from his neck to his hips. The oil, the perfect skin to skin lube. Monty blew out several breaths, getting the urge to hump the table under him. Or hump the massage therapist.