It was a week later and I still couldn’t believe it. One day I was a sales manager on the “fast-track” for my corporation and the next, I was “pursuing opportunities outside the corporation”, corporate-speak to explain why I wasn’t in my office anymore without having to say they’d fired me.
The whole problem started when Division promoted a senior accountant to the job of Director of Sales and Marketing. He didn’t quite understand that a sales department can only sell what customers want to buy, and if the company’s products weren’t that, selling was pretty difficult.
He kept harping about the amount of money we spent on travel every month without having anything to show for the cost. He couldn’t believe customers would rather pay half our price for the same product made in some third world country just because it was cheaper. I tried to explain the concept of product differentiation and its impact on sales, and I tried showing him the customer feedback reports that said our product wasn’t any better than our foreign competition. I pointed out that customers buy for price if everything else is equal, and only pay more if they believe they’re getting more. His answer was, “It’s thinking like that that’s killing American industry”, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.
I admit the mistake was mine. I’d had enough one day, and walked into his office, closed the door, and tried to explain the realities of sales to him. Somewhere along the way, it’s possible I did say he wouldn’t see the truth if it bit him on the ass. It’s also possible I said I didn’t know how he managed to wipe his ass since he couldn’t see that either. I really don’t remember.
Anyway, the next morning, my email said I had an appointment with Human Resources at nine. It didn’t take long. At nine-fifteen, I walked out of the building without my badge. I had their assurance they’d clean out my desk and send the contents to me as long as they didn’t deem said contents to be company property.
So, after a day of asking my scotch bottle why there were so many assholes in the world, and another of asking myself how I could be stupid enough to drink a half a quart of scotch at one sitting, I started to think about my new-found freedom.
I was thirty and single, had no debt other than the payment on the house I’d bought a couple of years earlier, and had six months severance pay in the bank.
It was also pretty certain that it would take those six months to find a job equivalent to the one I’d just left, so I had some time on my hands. I couldn’t very well go flip burgers, because interviews have a way of happening at any hour of the day, but I couldn’t sit at home without going nuts. Then, one day while thumbing through the local newspaper I saw the answer.
LIKE PEOPLE? WANT TO BE YOUR OWN BOSS?
LEARN MASSAGE THERAPY AT NATSA COMMUNITY COLLEGE
There was some small print at the bottom of the add that said credits would probably not transfer to another college and that there was no guarantee, express or implied, of employment after graduation, but that didn’t matter to me. I was envisioning how many women I could get in bed by offering them a massage. I figured I might also make some money in the process, so I called the number and scheduled an appointment to enroll.
It was pretty great and not all that hard, really. I’ve always been pretty good with my hands, so the mechanics of massage were easy to learn. The study of bones and muscles was harder, but I managed a decent grade. Only one thing was a disappointment. To learn massage, one must practice under the watchful eye of the instructor. My practice sessions seemed to always involve a hairy guy instead of a sensuous woman. At least they kept their clothes on.
The day we received our certifications, a dozen vendors were present with a nice lunch, free samples of massage oil, and displays of all the things I’d ever need to massage anybody. I bought a portable massage table, a massage chair, a few types of oil, some nice fluffy towels big enough to cover a person from head to toe, and a couple pads of standard release forms. I was in business.
Now, all I needed was some customers, preferably of the svelt, sexy, feminine variety. The Business Practices course I took as part of the certification requirements had some suggestions. They seemed not to work as well in real life as in the class. My newspaper ad yielded nothing except a couple hundred dollars to the paper’s advertising profits. I had business cards printed and distributed them to every health food and herbal remedy shop in the city. The print shop was happy. I was not.
I started to think about how I used to sell products to customers. After all, my newfound skill was a product, wasn’t it?
The hardest part about selling anything is getting your product in front of consumers so they can learn about it and decide to try it. While walking through the mall one day when I had nothing better to do, I found my customers.
It wasn’t hard to talk Janey, the salon owner, into letting me set up a massage chair in the waiting area. I explained that I was just starting out, and would give her customers a short massage after they’d finished their appointment. There would be no cost to her other than the space I used, and we’d both benefit. I’d get my name and skills out in the world, and she’d have something she could advertise to bring in more customers. The short massage I gave her clinched the deal.
The second part of my plan was the gift cards I had printed up. Every customer likes the idea of a free sample, and my arrangement with the salon was for them to let each customer dig into a covered box and pull out a card. Most of the cards were my business cards, but there were also several gift cards for a free, at-home massage in the box.
It all went well from the first day. Most people like being touched, so even a poorly done back rub feels great. To get a massage on that one spot that’s been tense lately, and to have that massage done in the correct manner feels incredibly nice. I’d just ask a couple of questions like, “Has your neck felt tense lately?” or “I’ll bet carrying all those bags has your shoulders aching, doesn’t it?” They’d either say yes, or tell me their legs were stiff or some other complaint, and I’d spend five minutes making that go away. The women who came to get their hair done left feeling relaxed and smiling with one of my business cards tucked into their purses.
The first woman who won a free massage was Trudy, a little woman about fifty who looked like anybody’s grandmother. She was prim and proper all the way from her short, open toed heels to her medium length, freshly colored and styled auburn hair. I’d massaged her neck and shoulders after she told me she spent a lot of time carrying her grandson around. Trudy drew one of my free massage cards when she paid her bill.
Trudy seemed excited in a prim and proper way. She asked a lot of questions about how I’d do the massage, what she’d need to do, and where in her house would be the best place. She also asked if her husband could be there at the same time.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, young man, but I’d just feel better if my husband was there too.”
I told her it was fine with me if her husband was there, and explained what I’d do. Trudy seemed satisfied and asked when I could come to her house.
A rule of selling I’d learned early in my career is to always give your customer the impression you’re selling your stuff faster than you can get it. If a customer thinks your product is that good, he or she will want to buy it now before you run out.
I looked at my appointment book, the appointment book I’d carefully filled with fake appointments.
“Well, the soonest I have an opening in my schedule is Friday. Let’s see…what time can your husband be there?”
She said five, so I wrote her name, address and phone number in at five that Friday.
At five that Friday, I knocked on the door of Trudy’s two story house in the northern suburbs of the city. She let me in and introduced me to Fred once she pried him away from his fishing magazine. He didn’t seem too impressed by the whole thing.
“So…Trudy says you’re gonna give her a free massage, and I’m supposed to watch?”
“That’s the plan. She wanted you to be there.”
“You gonna have her take off her clothes? She doesn’t like bein’ naked much.”
Trudy was blushing.
“Fred. You don’t have to tell everything you know, do you?”
“You get her naked, you call me. I’ll be right here readin’ my magazine ‘til then.”
Trudy showed me into their spare bedroom.
“I hope this bedroom is all right.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll just set up my table and we can get started.”
She was blushing again.
“Do I really have to take off my clothes?”
“No. I can do this either way. It won’t be quite as nice, but you’ll still enjoy it. Oh, I’ll need you to fill out this form. It’s nothing really, just a statement that you aren’t pregnant or have had surgery recently, things like that. After you’re done, we’ll start.”
Now, a masseuse is sort of like your barber or hair stylist. To keep you from getting bored or nervous, we’ll talk to you while we’re working. It helps establish a relationship and takes away the fear of being touched in places you normally don’t let a stranger touch.
“Just lay down on the table on your stomach and put your face in the little ring there. I’ll do your back first.”
Trudy hopped up on the table and stretched out. She flinched when I put my hand on the small of her back.
“So, Trudy, ever had a massage before?”
She laughed nervously.
“No, this is my first.”
“Well, just relax and let me do all the work. You’ll feel great afterwards, I guarantee.”
She did relax after a few minutes. By the time I got to her hips, Trudy was really relaxed. She even opened her thighs for me when I did them. After turning her over, I started at her feet and worked my way up.
Trudy’s face was just one big smile. I had a feeling Fred hadn’t been very attentive to her lately. When I worked my way up her thighs again, Trudy sighed a couple of times, and once, I felt her hips lift off the table ever so slightly.
Trudy thanked me while I was folding up the table and then showed me to the door. Fred was still reading his magazine. As I was leaving, I gave her another of my business cards.
“I still have one”, she said.
“Well, give it to someone else you think would like a massage. Just have them give me a call, and don’t be afraid to call me yourself it you want to do this again.”
In the first two weeks of my new job, I did six free massages in addition to the short ones at the salon. The first five were about like Trudy’s. I went to the house, set up my table, and massaged my client with her clothes on. The sixth was a little different.
Stephanie didn’t seem to have much fashion sense. She came to the salon in grey sweat pants and a T-shirt that had “OFF LIMITS” printed in big letters across where her breasts would have been if she’d had breasts of any size. She was pretty flat chested. I guessed her at between forty and forty-five. She wore running shoes with pink pom-poms on the back of her socks. After her short blonde bob had been washed and trimmed, she flopped down in my chair.
“My legs hurt”, she said, so I gave her calves a massage.
They were nice calves, slender and muscular, and I told her so.
“Well, I run a couple miles every morning since my divorce. It gives me something to do, and it keeps me in shape.”
When she paid her bill, she pulled one of my free massage cards out of the box. She was smiling when she walked back over to my massage chair.
“So, you’re gonna do me for free?”
“Well, I’m going to give you a free massage, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. So, when can you do it?”
I went through my usual routine of flipping through the pages of my schedule, then said, “How about tomorrow at three?”
“Yeah, that’s good for me.”
I wrote down her address and phone number.
“I’ll need a place to set up my massage table. Your living room or a small bedroom will do fine.”
Stephanie smiled, said “See you tomorrow then”, and walked off toward the health food store.
I rang the buzzer of her apartment a little before three. Stephanie’s voice came over the speaker a few seconds later.
“Stephanie, it’s Jack…the masseuse from the salon?”
“Oh, yeah. Come on up.”
The lock buzzed and I pushed through the door with my massage table in one hand and my bag of towels and other supplies over my shoulder. I found her door and knocked.
The brunette who answered wasn’t Stephanie by a long shot. She was dressed in shorts and a little halter-top that was barely able to keep itself wrapped around her breasts. Her tan was fantastic, and I couldn’t see any tan lines.
“Uh…I’m sorry. I thought this was Stephanie’s apartment. Can you tell me which one is?”
The brunette turned back toward the living room.
“Steph, Honey, it’s your guy.”
She turned back to face me.
“I’m Marilyn. Steph’s in the bedroom. C’mon in and get set up. She’ll be out in a minute.”
I had my table set up and was putting on my massage belt when Stephanie came out of the bedroom. She was dressed in a light blue robe tied at the waist and her hair was wet.
“I thought I oughta take a quick shower since I’m gonna be naked.”
“Well, you don’t have to be undressed. Lots of my clients keep their clothes on.”
“We did some research on the net. Naked is supposed to be better, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I can feel the tension in your body better that way.”
Stephanie pulled the belt on her robe and it fell open. She shrugged her shoulders and it fell to the floor.
“So, naked it is then.”
Her body was slender and tight, and the breasts I’d thought were small were really just a little saggy. The thing that got me was her nipples. The room was a bit cool from the air conditioning, and they’d become long and stiff from the chill. I could only imagine how they’d feel between my lips.
The other thing that got me was that Stephanie was either a natural blonde or she bleached her pubic hair too, because her bush was a pale yellow that did nothing to hide her slender lips. Stephanie’s voice pulled my eyes away from her crotch.
“Uh…I don’t mind you looking, but shouldn’t I lay down or something?”
I handed her my clipboard with the standard release form.
“Just read this release form and sign it before we get started, please. Then lay down on your stomach. I’ll cover you with a towel so you don’t get cold.”
As I was placing Stephanie’s arms alongside her body, I noticed that Marilyn was still standing there. She grinned.
“Can I watch? Steph said you have nice hands.“
“If you want. It’s going to take about an hour, though.”
Marilyn grinned again.
“You might be surprised.”
Nobody ever accused me of being quick on the uptake, so I just thought her statement was a little curious.
“I’ll start with your neck and shoulders, Stephanie. If you think I’m pushing too hard, or if anything else seems wrong, just tell me. All people are different, and I know how to adjust.”
Her muscles were tight, but there was a lot of tension in those muscles too. As I worked on her neck and shoulders, I kept feeling little knots in the tissue. I concentrated on working those out. When the first one, right between her shoulders relaxed, Stephanie moaned.
“ Oh, damn…that place has been bothering me for a week.”
“Yeah. There was a knot there. Tell me, what do you do for a living?”
“I coach gymnastics at the Y.”
“Ahh…that would explain it.”
“Well, your body’s in great shape, but you seem to be pretty tense in places.”
“Yeah. Happens when I don’t warm up enough.”
I moved the towel from her shoulders down to her hips and began on her back.
“Well, I’ll take all that stiffness away for you. This is called effleurage. It’s good for warming up your muscles so they relax. Then I can get to the muscles underneath.”
“Mmmmmmmm. That’s great”, Stephanie murmured.
I caught movement in my periferal vision. Marilyn had moved up to the other side of the table.
“Can you show me how you do that?” she asked.
“Sure. Here, put a little oil on your hands and rub them together to warm it up…that’s right. Now, push down firmly as you stroke from the small of her back up to her shoulders, then stoke back down lightly over her arms. Yeah, just like that.”
“Marilyn, you can push harder than that. You’re just tickling me.”
“Mmmmmmmm. That’s nice.”
“Feels pretty nice to me too, Steph.”
I think it was then I realized Stephanie and Marilyn weren’t just roommates.
“OK, I think you’re warmed up enough. Now I’m going to do what’s called a fan. You’ll feel me stretching your back muscles.”
I put a little more oil on my hands and started rubbing Stephanie’s back from each side of her spine towards her sides. I was using a lot of pressure to move the muscles around.
“Ooooo…wow”, chuckled Stephanie. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“Well, this isn’t just a backrub. I’m pushing the waste products out of your muscles and letting blood fill them up again.”
“She’s getting all pink”, whispered Marilyn.
“That’s what’s supposed to happen. That’s why a good massage makes you feel so good.”
I had to show Marilyn how to do the fan also, and after she’d practiced a few times, I put a fresh towel over Stephanie’s back and shoulders and pulled the first one down to her thighs. Her tight little butt stuck up in the air.
The effleurage is good for the buttocks too, so I started with that, but she was pretty relaxed by then. I quickly switched to petrissage on her right butt cheek. Marilyn just stared for a while, then giggled.
“It looks like you’re just grabbing her ass.”
“Well, I am, but it’s a special technique. I’m not really grabbing the tissue. I’m lifting it with one hand and pushing into that hand with the thumb on my other hand. It doesn’t pinch her, but it does encourage blood flow.”
“Feels great too”, I heard from the other end of the table.
Marilyn had to try, and was soon doing a respectable job, so I let her have Stephanie’s right cheek, and I started on the left one. Somehow we got out of synch and pulled both of Stephanie’s cheeks apart at the same time. Her tight little rosebud winked at me.
The little “Ahhh” that Stephanie made didn’t surprise me a lot. The way Marilyn caught her breath did. While I kept massaging the left cheek, Marilyn slid her index finger down the cleft and gently touched the little ring of muscle. Stephanie jerked her hips up off the table.
“Mmmmmmmm. You never forget that, do you Marilyn?”
Marilyn moved her fingertip in a little circle, then pushed in gently. Stephanie squeezed her cheeks together, then moaned and arched off the table again.
“Nope. I know how you like it, Honey.”
My cock was being very unprofessional about this. It was getting hard, and I decided it was time I got back in control of the situation.
“OK, we’ll do her legs now.”
Marilyn didn’t take her finger out until I unfolded the towel over Stephanie’s back to cover her butt. I moved to the end of the table and warmed up Stephanie’s feet, then used my thumbs to work the soles. When they were done to my satisfaction, I move the towel up and worked on her calves using effleurage and a wringing technique.
By now, I’d pretty much figured out why Marilyn wanted to learn all the techniques I was using, so I showed her the wringing action before moving up to Stephanie’s thighs. I also decided to let her help me.
“We’ll do some effleurage to warm up Stephanie’s muscles, and then petrissage on her inner thighs. Remember those?”
Marilyn licked her bottom lip and nodded. I pulled the towel up to Stephanie’s bottom and applied gentle pressure to get her to separate her legs enough I could get both my hands and Marilyn’s between them. I shouldn’t have been concerned. Stephanie opened her thighs wide enough I could see her slender lips.
Marilyn and I began the effleurage. I stopped my upward motion at the little crease between Stephanie’s hip and thigh. I noticed Marilyn let her thumb brush Stephanie’s lips with every stroke. I also noticed that after a couple of minutes, those slender lips began to get pink and puffy. By the time I started the pettrissage, they were open and glistening with moisture.
The pettrisage would have been normal if Marilyn hadn’t included Stephanie’s wet lips in the movement. After five minutes, the time I usually allow for this, Marilyn was spending more time massaging those swollen lips than on Stephanie’s thighs, and Stephanie kept working those lips up into Marilyn’s hand. It was almost more than I could do to tell them both it was time for Stephanie to turn over.
Stephanie’s face was flushed when she turned over, and her nipples were harder and longer than before. I covered her with my towels and moved to her head. After a short massage of Stephanie’s temples and face, I move to her neck and shoulders, then to her chest. It was tempting to pull down the towel, but I resisted, instead, just working on each side of her collar bones and then on the muscles of her upper chest.
“OK, now I’ll do your tummy.”
Marilyn asked softly, “We read about a breast massage. Don’t you do that too?”
“Well, not usually. Most women don’t really like a strange man touching them there.”
“You don’t seem strange to me at all. Go ahead. I want to see. You want it too, don’t you Steph?”
“OK. You can do this on your own too.”
I pulled the towel down over Stephanie’s breasts.
“You start from the nipple and stroke gently over the breast to your chest. Go all around the nipple once.”
“You don’t touch her nipple?” asked Marilyn.
“No. Just around it. When you get to the underside, you can support the breast with your hand, like this.”
I lifted Stephanie’s breast and her rigid nipple poked into my palm.
“This way, you can keep the same tension on the skin.”
Marilyn worked her way around Stephanie’s other breast, although she did manage to brush the nipple with every stroke. Stephanie didn’t seem to mind.
“Now, I’ll put my hands around her breast and twist just enough that it slides around inside my hands. That’s right Marilyn. Don’t squeeze too hard. Now, go the other way. Good.
“The last part is to press her breast gently against her chest, like this.”
I don’t know if it was my imagination or if Stephanie's nipples grew even more, but it seemed like it. I know I didn’t imagine her moan.
“That’s all there is to it. Now, let’s do her tummy.”
We finished her flat tummy with more effleurage and I covered Stephanie up again. Her calves were next and then her thighs again. Like before, Stephanie opened her thighs wide, and there was no doubt she was aroused. Her lips were parted and wet on the outside now.
“Well use the same techniques, effleurage and pettrissage for her thighs, and then we’ll be done.”
After a couple of minutes of massage to both her thighs at the same time, Stephanie murmurred, “You can fuck me now”.
In situations like this, sometimes it’s best to just ignore what a client says, so I did. Marilyn didn’t. She stopped working on Stephanie’s thighs and moved her hands to Stephanie’s swollen lips. With two fingers she parted them, and gently rubbed the little bump at the top of the cleft.
“I’ll do this. You just watch, OK?”, she whispered.
Marilyn’s fingertip fluttered over Stephanie’s lips and clit, then stopped. She moved forward and brushed Stephanie’s mouth with hers at the same time she pulled the towel from her breasts.
Their kiss was the softest, most erotic thing I’d ever seen, well..until Marilyn moved down and circled Stephanie’s right nipple with her lips. She sucked in gently and the turgid nub disappeared.
Marilyn opened her lips and I could see her teeth gently pulling Stephanie’s nipple up away from her chest. Stephanie groaned and put her hand on the back of Marilyn’s head and stroked her hair.
“Oh God, Mar, yes.”
Marilyn’s fingertips caressed their way back down Stephanie’s tummy to her mound, and then between her lips again. First with one finger, then with two, Marilyn stroked in and out slowly. Her mouth nibbled across Stephanie’s breast to the other nipple, and sucked it in. Stephanie groaned and I saw her belly muscles roll.
I was pretty spellbound. I’d read about this before, and seen some films with overacting actresses, but this was…
Well, it was beautiful, sensuous, and erotic all at the same time. Their movements were so unhurried, so gentle, that all I could do was stand there and let my cock swell.
Marilyn’s thumb was now rubbing beside Stephanie’s swollen clit, and Stephanie was reacting with all she had. Her hips kept rocking up into Marilyn's stroking fingers, and her breath was coming in panting gasps. Her thighs squeezed together, then immediately opened wide to let Marilyn probe deeper.
Suddenly, Stephanie groaned and lifted her hips off the table. She began to shake and Marilyn stroked faster. Stephanie moaned, then cried “Now, Mar, now”, and her body arched even higher. I thought she was done until Marilyn bit her nipple firmly and then gently shook her head.
It was as if Stephanie had touched an electric wire, or at least what I imagine I’d do if I touched one. She shrieked and her thighs shook as spasm after spasm racked her body. Her fists were clenched into the towels that had slipped to her sides as she fell back to the table, and her face was blank except for the little “O” her mouth formed. Marilyn pinched the other nipple in her teeth, and Stephanie cried out again, then squeezed her thighs together tightly. With a soft moan, she grabbed Marilyn’s hand and pulled it from her bush, then pulled Marilyn’s face to hers. Their kiss was just as sensuous and gentle as the first one I’d seen.
Marilyn softly broke their kiss and looked up at me.
“So what comes next?”
I had to laugh a little.
“Well, ordinarily, I’d cover her with the towels and let her rest for a few minutes while I packed up my stuff and then I’d leave. I don’t know what the hell I should do in this case. They never taught me about this in massage classes.”
“It looks like part of you has some idea of what to do”, giggled Stephanie. She had propped herself up on my table and was watching.
“Well…I’m uh… I’m not sure that’s exactly what you’d like.”
Marilyn stepped around the table.
“Stephanie and I met and liked each other so she moved in with me. We never…we never touched each other for a while, but when you’re divorced and over forty…well, most men either want a younger woman or have some trouble getting it up. We learned how to take care of each other, but that doesn’t mean we’re lesbians.”
Marilyn reached out and stroked the front of my pants.
“We like men just fine, don’t we Steph?”
I’d dreamed about this, but now that it seem like it was going to happen, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.
“But I don’t really know either of you.”
Stephanie hopped off my table and came over to Marilyn. She whispered something in Marilyn’s ear, and Marilyn nodded her head.
“OK, you come back next week and do me. That way you’ll get to know us, right? In the meantime, We’ll give you something to think about. Just call it a tip for teaching me about massage.”
Before I could say anything, Marilyn pulled the little top over her shoulders and her heavy breasts bobbed free. She lifted the bottle of massage oil from my belt, and poured a generous amount down her equally generous cleavage.
I felt hands at my waist. Stephanie took off my massage belt and then unbuckled my belt. The button on my jeans came next, followed by the zipper. As Stephanie worked my jeans down my legs, Marilyn rubbed the oil between her breasts, then knelt in front of me and giggled.
“Come here, dicky. Let me show you my style of massage.”
In two seconds she had my stiff cock trapped between her slippery breasts and was rubbing them up and down over my length. It was a first for me, and it was fantastic, almost as fantastic as when she bent down and sucked the head of my cock in between her lips.
Since Stephanie’s massage had gotten out of hand, well, my hands anyway, I’d already lost most of the professional indifference I’d been taught. Marilyn took away all the rest in less than a minute with her mouth and big breasts. Stephanie did her share to, with the hand that kept fondling my balls.
“Mmmmmmmmmmm. It’s nice to feel a hard cock again.”
She looked at Stephanie and giggled again.
“S’pose I should do like him and say I’m gonna take all the stiffness away?”
About thirty seconds later, she did. I shot my seed all over her chest.
Marilyn was still giggling.
“Now, doesn’t that feel all better, now that your muscle is all relaxed?”
Marilyn scheduled her appointment for four the next Thursday, and Stephanie said she’d be there too, so I should plan on longer than an hour. They were both chuckling when I left.
I went a couple of days without any other women pulling a free massage card, and then two women pulled one out of the box in the same afternoon.
Sally was your typical walking shoes, jeans and T-shirt wearing, minivan driving soccer mom. She’d pulled my card after having her brunette roots touched up to match the long golden blonde tresses that cascaded over her shoulders. I’d already done her shoulders, so she was excited by the prospect of a full-body massage.
I set up in her living room at 1:00 in the afternoon. We were alone, but that was the way Sally wanted it. She’d laughed and said she didn’t want her kids walking in the door while a strange man was rubbing his hands all over her. She also opted to keep her bra and panties on.
I was working on her hips when she said something about sending her husband to massage school.
“Maybe then I could get him to touch me once in a while.”
A masseuse always tries to make the customer feel good in order to keep them relaxed.
“Oh, I’ll bet he loves touching you. You have nice skin and your tan is great.”
“I thought the tan might interest him, but it didn’t.”
“He’s probably been working hard and he’s just tired. Ever take a vacation, just the two of you?”
“Yeah. We went to the races at Daytona. By the time I’d sat in the sun all day long, I was the one who didn’t want to do anything. Oh, man…do that some more.”
“Maybe you should dress up sexy for him sometime. I’ll bet you still turn heads when you get all dolled up.”
“Well, I suppose I might. Wish I didn’t have these thighs so I could wear shorter skirts.”
“Massage can help that too. Did you know that?”
“Honey, if you can make that go away, I’ll have you here every week.”
I covered up her butt and started on her thighs. She was enjoying that…too much in fact.
“Oh, Honey, I wish Jerry had your hands. Go a little higher, OK? Mmmmm. Nice, but you can still go higher. You won’t embarrass me.”
I already knew she wasn’t embarrassed. There was a wet spot forming on the crotch of her light blue panties. I knew that because I was touching it with my hands. It was time to do something else.
“OK, time to turn you over.”
I did her face, neck and shoulders and she loved it. I moved to her tummy and she loved that too, except she started directing me again.
“Can you go lower. I feel kinda tight there.”
I moved to just above her panty waistband.
“No, down more…here, I’ll show you.”
Sally lifted her hips and rolled her panties down until I saw the cleft at the top of her lips through her dark brown bush. She patted the soft curls and said, “here, it feels tight right here.”
“That’s kind of a personal area. I don’t know if I should.”
“Honey, you’re a professional aren’t you, like my doctor?”
“Well, it doesn’t bother him to touch me in more personal places than that, so it shouldn’t bother you.”
I moved my hands down over her mound and did some effleurage. Every time I pulled my hands back toward her tummy, I saw her lips part. Sally spread her thighs wider, and those lips parted even more.
“That’s the place. It’s been tight for weeks. Oh…yeah.”
Well, that lasted for a minute or so, and then things got sticky…literally.
Sally breathed, “Honey, you might as well finish me off. I’m hot, and I need it so damned bad.”
“Uh…I can’t really do that. It’s not legal.”
“Honey, I’d never turn in any man who makes me feel this good. All I need is just one finger, right there on my little love button.”
Although I didn’t know it at the time, that finger was going to change my life.
It slipped through her swollen wet lips so easily. I found her firm little clit and started rubbing gently.
“Faster, Honey, faster.”
Well, Sally was right. She was hot. It took her less than a minute to groan and arch off the table. I kept rubbing and she arched up again. Her body tightened up and then began to shake as her little moans and panting breaths filled the room. After one last shudder, Sally grabbed my hand.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Honey, that was one great massage.”
I did some more effleuragge on her thighs and shoulders while she lay there and made little purring sounds, then covered her with towels while I packed up. When I pulled the towel off her legs, Sally lifted her hips and adjusted her panties, then asked if I was busy the next week.
The next afternoon, I had a freebie with Betty. Betty was a tiny little woman about sixty with sparkling silver hair she had styled every week. She always wore dresses with heels to the salon, and I thought she’d probably attracted a lot of men in her day. The laugh lines only gave character to her beautiful face.
Betty asked me the same question I usually got, and I gave her the same answer.
“So, you want me naked?”
‘It depends on you. I can feel your muscles better without clothes, but the massage will still feel good with them on.”
Betty looked at me and smiled.
“I was hoping you’d say naked. Men don’t ask me to get naked much. Charlie’s seen me so much, he doesn’t pay attention anymore.”
Betty winked at me.
“I think I’ll get naked.”
She did, all five feet of her, and I was surprised. She was in better shape than some of the younger women I’d known. Her breasts were a bit lower, but that would be because of their size. Betty was well endowed for such a small woman.
Her hips were also a bit lower, but when I got to them, I found it wasn’t fat. Her muscles were firm underneath her skin.
“You must work out, Betty. Your muscle tone is great.”
“I walk and do my exercises. Thanks for noticing.”
“Well, one of the benefits of the job is working on people with good muscle tone. It’s a pleasure to feel muscle instead of trying to find it through a layer of fat.”
I’d finished with Betty’s hips and started on her thighs when she said she knew Sally.
“Sally told me you give a great massage.”
“Well, I tried to anyway. She seemed to enjoy it.”
“Sally said you have a special massage…”
“Uh…I’m not sure what you mean. I did the same to her that I’m doing to you.”
“That’s what I want, the same massage you gave her, only I’d like mine from the back. Always did like it that way better than the others.”
“Just what exactly did Sally tell you?”
“She said the climax was the best she’s had in six months. Charlie hasn’t done me in a year, so mine should be better. This is how I like it.”
Betty raised up on her knees, and put her face on my table. Then she rocked her back down. I was staring at slender lips with a sparse covering of salt and pepper curls.
I have to admit, I’d never thought of women in their later years having any sort of sex drive, but Betty’s was alive and kicking. As soon as I touched her, she shivered and spread her thighs wide.
Her outer lips were long and slender, and they were softer than silk on my fingertips. I used a little oil in just one fingertip and traced the line where they joined her thighs.
Betty rolled her hips and murmured, “Pull them out.”
With my thumb and index finger, I did just that, and then rolled them gently.
Betty sighed and murmured again, “Harder…pull harder.”
I pulled again, gently at first and then with a more firm pull. The further I pulled, the further they stretched. When I felt resistance, Betty’s inner lips and entrance were in plain sight.
“Mmmmmmm. That’s nice, just like Charlie used to do. Just pull a little now, and then relax, over and over.”
Betty may have looked like a quiet little grandmother, but she was a horny little thing at heart. I found myself thinking she and Charlie must have had some great times.
“Use your fingers now”, Betty breathed.
She was a little dry, but some more oil fixed that, and I started gently rubbing beside the little bump at the cleft of her inner lips. Betty started to rock back and forth slightly, and I soon saw why. She’d raised up enough that her nipples just brushed the towel on my table. They’d grown longer and stiff, and as her body rocked, they rubbed over the nap of the towel.
I moved my fingertip from the side of her swelling clit to the tip, and lightly brushed it. Betty gasped and pushed her hips back into my hand.
“Oh-h-h-h-h… keep doing that…with your finger inside.”
I changed my thumb for my fingertip and slipped my middle finger inside her passage. It didn’t feel very snug, so I put my ring finger in beside it and began sliding them in and out. My thumb made little circles on her swollen clit. Betty kept up and wanted more.
Betty was rocking her hips up and down over my fingers and it was all I could do to keep them in place. I moved my hand to do so, and my little finger accidentally slipped between her cheeks and touched her rosebud.
My little finger was slippery with oil, and when Betty pushed her hips up again, it slipped right in.
I thought she was going to jump off the table. As soon as my little finger opened that little ring of muscle, Betty lurched and started to pant. Her voice was more of a high whine that a voice.
“Ooooooo…Oh-h-h-h…yes…yes…Oh God…Oh-h-h-h…I’m almost there…Oh…pull my hair, hard.”
I pulled on her silver locks until her head was forced back, and Betty came a second later. She wasn’t loud and she didn’t shake all over. Her body just tensed enough I could see every muscle in her back and thighs stand out. She quivered slightly, gasped and then fell face first on my massage table. As she lay there panting, I massaged her back, bottom and thighs. She was still breathing hard when she chuckled.
“Mmmmmmmmmmm. Sally was right. You do have magic fingers.”
“Well, I’m glad you enjoy it. If you’ll turn over, I’ll do your front side now.”
“You probably think I’m weird, huh?”
“No, I guess not. Everybody has things they like that others don’t.”
“I’ve always liked it a little rough, no hitting or whips or anything like that, but I do like having my hair pulled. I like being tied up too, but bless his heart, Charlie just isn’t up to that any more.”
Betty took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I haven’t felt this satisfied in a long time. You’ll come back, won’t you?”
“If you want me to. I’ll have to charge you next time, though.”
“Oh, believe me, I want you to, and the money’s not any problem at all.”
Well, I’d created a monster. Sally and Betty apparently knew a lot of older women who were either divorced or whose husbands weren’t as attentive as they’d like. Stephanie and Marilyn knew a lot of younger women who were between boyfriends or whose husbands happened to be gone for some reason. They were careful about which woman they told, but they still told a lot of women.
Business at the salon picked up enough that Janey had to add a couple more chairs, and I spent half a day there giving my free short massages. I had to have more business cards printed because every woman wanted one for herself and one for a friend. In less than a month, I was erasing fake appointments from my book so I could replace them with real ones.
I guess what I do is a bit borderline, but I’ve never charged extra for one of my “special massages” as Betty calls them, and my clients have always asked for that service. I usually get a nice tip, and sometime that tip is a “special tip”. Betty coined that term too. That woman has the softest hands and what she can do with her mouth is absolutely amazing.
Anyway, I figure nobody’s getting hurt, at least if you don’t count the time Marilyn fell off my massage table. I told her I couldn’t do her and Stephanie on the same table, but she just had to try.
Speaking of Marilyn, she’s in massage school now. It seems she and Stephanie have some connections in the lesbian community who like the idea of my special massage, but don’t really fancy a man doing it. If I know Marilyn, she’ll have lots of business too.