[MFF] The milking table – Lisbon style

You can find some of my older adventures on [my blog here](https://lisbonmassagediary.wordpress.com/), of which the text below is from the most recent.
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> If you’re keen on the latest porn trends you may have come across some interesting scenes by the name of milking table. Not entirely new, but some producers have created entire sites devoted to this experience. Essentially it starts out with a massage table where the male actor receives a rather mediocre massage. Maybe I’m being a bit harsh here but my standards are quite high at this point. After some time the “masseuse” will ask the gentleman to turn over. The table conveniently has a hole for the man to drop his package into where it hangs free. She proceeds under the table where she finishes her work with a combination of hands and mouth. It’s quite a show, and something I’ve always wished to sign up for.
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> Sometimes wishes come true, and far surpass ones wildest dreams.
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> I had come to find that a parlor was offering this very experience and immediately scheduled my appointment. I was grinning from ear to ear before even arriving. I’ve received many massages of various kinds, but this was something completely new for me. When I arrived to speak with the receptionist I found that the milking table was a two girl special. A surprise I wasn’t expecting, but turned my anticipation dial up to thirteen.
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> Since I hadn’t visited this location before I went through the usual presentation. They ask you to have a seat in the room and the girls come in one by one to tell you their name and give you two kisses on the cheek. Afterwards the receptionist will come back in and ask which girls caught your interest. This is typical for any of the parlors in the city. After going through the ceremonies with four of the girls two very petite older women caught my eye.
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> I always have a fondness for the older women. They tend to have a wider repertoire of refined skills, and generally seem to have a better attitude. I was fortunate enough to have two very flirty and fun ladies prance into the room with their skimp nightgown inspired dresses. Each giving me a big arms wrapped tight around my waist embrace. One a hazel eyed beauty who spoke a fair amount of English, and another who was able to utter a greeting. I was provided a towel and stepped into the shower while the ladies prepared the table. Most parlors have showers in the room which is very convenient.
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> The ambiance of the room was fantastic. Oriental decorations adorned the walls and furniture. The music was soft and calming. A cover of “Rude” by MAGIC! with a female vocalist played while I showered. The flickering of candles around the room accented some of the features in the darkness. With two of the finest features being the masseuses undressing from their silky gowns and preparing the table on the other side of the room. That was when I could clearly see the table with a hole – as seen on TV. As I exited the shower one of the ladies came over and grabbed the towel to help me dry off. She asked a few questions to get better acquainted and I learned a bit about her myself. Very cute lady with a sizzling smile that pierced the dark. She grabbed my hand and led me over to the stage.
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> I face down and immediately was struck by a very different sensation than all of the other tables I’ve laid upon. There was no need to adjust myself. No discomfort in the groin area whatsoever. I was dangling free. It was a contrast of freedom and vulnerability that I’d never experienced before. The table was now splitting me from my manhood. He was on the other side all on his own. A mirror laying against the wall on floor toward the other side of the room gave me an outside view of the arrangement. It had been a very long time since I had that feeling where you’re not sure exactly how the next hour is going to play out, but you know it’s going to be good.
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> The ladies chatted silently and giggled for a bit outside of my view. I felt a warm hand grab my ankle and slide all the way up my leg and back before resting on top of my head, playing with my hair in the process. I could hear the other masseuse positioning herself below the table while a whisper came to my ear saying “Now you relax” and giving me a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then the performance began. An warm oiled hand gently cupped my balls and slowly spread the oil down to my shaft. Another hand from above traced its way back down to my legs, and began to massage my foot and calf. The combination immediately sent blood rushing to my spelunking pole. As I grew and extended my reach beyond the plane she intensified her handling. Mixing between short bursting strokes and longer smooth movements as if there was a stain that needed to be removed. The massage above also continued and intensified as she began to stretch and apply pressure to my inner and outer thighs. If this had been my first rodeo I’m sure I would have hit the floor before my eight seconds was up, but even in the chaos of the colliding sensations from above and below I was able to keep my composure.
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> A humorous turn cracked through my resolve as I heard the girl below utter some words. My understanding of the language is novice at best and my thoughts were scattered in the moment but I was able to piece together a translation: “What a fat cock”. I had presented myself as a non-speaker and so I imagine it wasn’t intended for me to hear, so I didn’t acknowledge the comment other than smiling to myself.
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> I felt the table rattle a bit as the masseuse finished massaging my legs, feet, and thighs. She had climbed onto the table kneeling down between my legs and continued to massage my butt and lower back. She was very strong and knew exactly when and where to apply pressure. Every so often using her breasts to slide them across my back in long deliberate rocking motions. A composition of heaven and hell separating the two sides of this table. Usually time separates the relaxing and meditative state of the massage before engaging in the erotic finish, but the only division of sin and zen during this rendezvous was a few centimeters of wood.
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> My fat hellbringer became incredibly warm in this moment followed by an intense pressure. My eyes had been closed since we began but I fired a glance back across at the mirror on the floor to see her head bobbing back and forth in sync with the motions of her hand. I was inside her mouth at this point and her grip around me became tighter. It was the first time that I had thought to catch a peek since I initially saw myself on the table alone, but now I could see the silhouettes of a woman kneeling above me and another kneeling below. I think any time you’re in the midst of intense pleasure or pain you take a snapshot of that time which becomes chiseled into your memory and defines the entirely of the experience – for better of for worse. This was my snapshot. The most insanely erotic position I had ever found myself in.
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> Both women became more aggressive in their handling of me. The strokes and pressure from below increased in vigor. From above a hand worked its way from my lower back down between my buttcheeks, thumb first, until the thumb rested on on my perineum. Her other hand grazed along the sides of my leg up and down as she increased the motion between my legs. The intensity was building up inside me and I transitioned from an aroused yet relaxed state to full on gripping the sides of the table in hopes to not be carried away by a whirlwind, until I came with muttered sporadic moans and spasms. Finally resigning to a defeated state on the table. The women giggled. A lot.
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> Still on top of the table she leaned down to my ear and asked me not to move. Again giving me a kiss on the cheek. I couldn’t if I had tried. In this catatonic state I could hear them rustling around me for a few moments before they continued the massage. Now both on their feet at each end of the table. One attending to my upper body while the other to my lower half. Having been through an experience truly like no other they guided me back to a state of relaxation wrapped in a layer of contentment.
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> I would be lying if I said this was my only experience at this parlor, but it was my first. We all took our showers before sitting and having a short final chat with some tea. A couple kisses on the cheeks from both ladies and my fantasy dissolved back into reality as I walked out the door.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5duo8l/mff_the_milking_table_lisbon_style