Friday, March 28, 2008

Choose your options

Hey guys, sorry I haven't been around to share more stories but it's been a hectic week. I've got so much gossip I don't even know where to start. So just lay back and relax so we can get started...

Is this your first time here? Well, let me explain the options to you...

- For $80 I'll get topless, and I'll tell you about the bitch at the Business across town that just got implants.

- For $120 I'll strip to a G-string and share the latest installment of "Freak of the Week."

- For $180 I'll get totally nude and you're allowed to touch within reason. And maybe I'll start telling you stories about some of my Sugar Daddies.

What's that... How much to fuck me? Believe me - you can't afford that!

So what'll it be? And with each option you're guaranteed a Happy Ending.

CJ

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Confessions of an Erotic Babysitter

So I’m sitting in the break room, catching up on Jerry Springer when I hear the door chime. Audrey is covering the front, so I kinda half listen in on her conversation with the customer just to make sure she’s not trying to rip me off again. My attention is being taken away by some chick slapping her transvestite ex-boyfriend on our little TV when I hear I high pitched, whining little voice.

OH NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. OH GAWD NO. IT BETTER NOT BE… NO!!!!

Now I turn my full attention to the front and I hear… “…oh that’s not a problem. CJ won’t mind at all... Oh CJ! Guess who’s here to see you!”

Fuck I knew it! I hear the pitter patter of tiny feet heading my way, followed by the thump-thump of Audrey’s slippers. A little furry 5 year old head pokes it’s way through the door. His name is Michael and he’s the son of one of Audrey’s Regulars. Please note it’s one of Audrey’s Regulars – not one of mine. Audrey appears behind him and gives me one of her puppy dog pleading looks. “You don’t mind, do you? I’m going in session for 60 minutes.”

I like kids. In fact, all my nieces and nephews absolutely adore their Aunt CJ. And I can entertain a 5 year old for a few minutes but 60???!!!! That’s what pisses me off about customers with kids – they’re never here for just 30 minutes. Listen folks – this is not exactly a daycare center. I’ve done this before and it’s always the same – I’m keeping some little brat from breaking something or hurting himself for an hour, meanwhile Daddy is getting his rocks off with a half naked masseuse. And do I ever get a little something sent my way after Dad’s popped off? NO. Nothing. Nada.

“Oh noooooo Audrey… not this time. The last time you pawned him off on me, I had to turn away 2 customers at the door. Not this time. Uh uh. No way.”

Audrey looks mad now. She hates confrontation. So we argued for a bit and finally agreed to $50 for my babysitting services. Hell, I know that she’s good for $180 with this guy, so I don’t feel guilty.

Audrey disappears up front and now I’m stuck with little Michael. He’s a relatively good kid, so I’m not too pissed. I’ve had worse. We’ll get a kid in here every now and then. Five is the oldest I’ve seen – I guess any older and Dad risks Junior giving away his little secret (I saw Daddy wrestling a naked lady!).

Worst experience I ever had was with a coworkers baby. Kid must have been 6 weeks, and she drags him to work claiming she can’t get a sitter. Anyway, she goes into session for an hour and here I am playing mommy. This kid will NOT stop crying. To make things worse, there’s no formula anywhere. Junior is pawing at MY tits now! So after about a half hour of nonstop crying I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to this girls room and banged on the door. She comes out wrapped in a towel and I tell her she needs to feed her damn baby. She’s like “I’m in the middle of session!” And I’m like “I don’t care!” But I felt so bad for that baby that I finally just told her to step aside and let me finish her customer, and she could keep the tip.

So anyways – back to Michael. I sit him on the couch and then find some cartoons on the TV. Then I dig around the fridge for some snacks. I’m not without a sense of humor, so I grab a can of coke and a candy bar. Hell, if we had an espresso machine I’d fix him a double shot. That’ll teach these assholes to stop dragging their kids to massage parlors. Mike scarfs the candy bar down, then chugs the soda. I’ll bribe him to love his Aunt CJ.

Thirty minutes have now gone by. If the door bell had rung, I’d be mad right now, but it’s been quiet and Mike and I are having a good time. We started a game of tickle which he’s loosing badly. In the past I’ve changed diapers, fed babies, played horsie, and once I even diagnosed a case of acid reflux. This 1 baby just wouldn’t stop crying. He kept burping and spitting up, especially when I’d rub his belly. I’d seen these symptoms before with my brothers kid, so I told the Dad when he finally got out of session. Of course he didn’t believe his kid had acid reflux – what did I know? Anyway, a couple weeks go by and I get this Thank You card at the Business. Apparently Dad had taken his kid to the doctor (shortly after taking his kid to a massage parlor) and had him diagnosed. Guess what – acid reflux.

Finally an hour goes by and I hear a door open followed by voices. I quickly dispose of the candy wrappers and coke cans (I know how to hide evidence). I said to Mike “Go see Daddy!” and he springs off the couch and towards the front. I don’t bother to go say hi since I know HE’S not the one who's tipping me today. I wonder what Daddy will say in 30 minutes when Mommy asks “What have you been feeding Michael?

CJ
Professional Babysitter

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

I’m tired of prostitutes

Because of this Eliot Spitzer thing, all the media is talking about prostitutes. And now people are asking me all these questions about prostitution and escorts and strippers, etc. Let’s get 1 thing straight. I am not a prostitute. I know prostitutes, and I’ve worked with them. I have seen nothing glamorous about their lifestyle and would never consider it myself. My coworker Luna has told me stories from her hooking days of being raped, beaten and robbed. Doesn’t sound nearly as fun as Pretty Woman, does it?

One of you guys asked for my opinion on prostitution as a “Victimless” crime. Well, getting raped and beaten isn’t exactly victimless, now is it? But if you’re referring to what takes place in a session between 2 consenting adults in exchange for cash, then I guess you can say that. Now what about the wives – are they victims when their husbands see us? Well let me tell ya, if it weren’t for married men, I’d be one bored masseuse. At least what we do here in The Business doesn’t spread disease (unless you’re one of those full-service skanks like my boss).

And 1 last thing before I drop this topic and get on with more fun stuff. Howard Stern interviewed a guy who was busted for running the biggest escort service in NYC by Eliot Spitzer. Howard asked if it’s true that for $5,000 an hour you get a celebrity or top model. The guy said “no, but we like you to think that.” And then the tabloids reveal that the NY governors little $4k mistress was nothing more than a drug addicted, high school drop out.

So enough about prostitutes! Let’s talk about erotic massage!

CJ

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Why I Hate My Job

I like my job. I don’t LOVE my job, but I don’t really hate it either. I mean a lot of people are probably wondering how I could possibly like what I do for a living. Well for the most part, the customers are OK, and some of my regulars I really enjoy seeing. But once in a while I’ll get some total assholes or even some really sick fucks. One of the problems of this business are the low-lifes it tends to attract.

I would say that about every 1 or 2 months, I’ll actually kick someone out of The Business. And that’s not counting the pervs and creeps that I turn away on a weekly basis. I’m talking about guys that make it into the room, then offend me so much that I have to throw them out. Most of these guys are looking for full service and just won’t take “No” for an answer. Other guys are just total hands and I’m not going to spend an entire session fighting them off.

But once in a while we’ll get these totally vile and disgusting fucks that make me want to just grab a gun, or reconsider a career as a librarian.

3 REASONS WHY I HATE MY JOB

The Incest Guy
Conversation with this guy starts out normal enough. He’s telling me how pretty I am, and sexy, and blah blah blah. Then says I kinda look like his sister. I tell him that’s a weird thing to say. It gets worse. He quickly turns the conversation over to how hot his sister is and how he wants to do her, and other sick shit. I told him to quit – he didn’t – So I ended his session right there and threw his ass out.

The Molested Guy
This customer was molested by his mother and aunt as a child. I learned this the hard way. The session was nothing unusual till the end part. As I start the hand release, he gets quiet then starts to cry. I ask him whats wrong and he tells me the story of his abuse as a kid and how he can’t have an orgasm without crying, and how he’s never been able to have a girlfriend because of it. I agreed to finish him, and the entire time he’s crying and saying things like “Don’t hurt me mommy” until he finally came. It was one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever seen. I didn’t throw him out, and he actually comes back every now and then and asks for me. I really don’t mind giving him a massage, it’s just that it’s really hard for me to stomach getting through the end part.

The Pedophile
This creep started off by trying to get me to wear a Catholic schoolgirl outfit. I’ve worn lingerie for some special customers before, but this guy was giving off a weird vibe, so I said no. Then he starts talking about how much he likes little girls during the massage. I told him he was starting to disgust me, but he kept going. Talks about parking in front of schools and watching the kids walk by. I told him 1 more word and his ass was out. Kept talking about kids, so I threw his ass out. We got into it as he was leaving, and I started yelling about how I was going to call the cops on his ass. Even went out to the parking lot and got his license number – gave it to a cop friend of mine. I kept his money too.

It’s these kinds of things that really make me sick to my stomach, and regret this career choice. Luckily it’s not very often that I get these guys. This stuff was kinda hard for me to write about. In fact, I haven’t really given this much thought to these events in a long time. At least it’s out there now, so maybe you guys can appreciate what kind of shit I have to put up with to pay my bills.

I’ll try to think of something more cheery to talk about next time. I need a drink.

CJ

Friday, March 14, 2008

Freak of the Week 2 - The Retard

This guy comes in today and says he’s been to “these kinds of places” before. Like I haven’t heard that one. I still can’t figure out what they’re trying to say with that. I mean, am I supposed to just drop to my knees and yell “Sucky fucky 15 dollars” Or does he think it’s like a secret handshake and a hidden door to our Dungeon of Pleasure will magically open revealing a host of nubile young nymphs who will cater to his every whim? Please. Personally, I think guys say that when they’re trying to hide the fact that they’re clueless idiots.

After explaining to him three times how much the sessions cost, he agrees to 40 minutes. I stick him in the room and tell him to undress. 5 minutes later I come back to find him in his pants and T-shirt. I don’t want to ask, so I explain to him the options. He asks for topless “to start off with” which usually means that the guy either doesn’t trust you or he’s a retard since it’ll cost a lot more now to get the G-string. I’m guessing retard.

Now I have to deal with his weird hang ups, so I nag him to at least take his pants off. This guy is giving me a weird vibe, so I ask him to pay for the topless upfront. He fumbles for his wallet, then lies back down. I go to work on his shoulders – through the T-shirt. I swear, less than one minute into the massage he asks if he can touch me.

Retard.

I charge him an extra $50. He fumbles for his wallet and lies down. I tuck the bills away and move closer to the table so he can reach my ass with his right hand. I swear to you again – less than a minute of playing with my ass he asks about the finish.

Retard.

So I go straight to that (heck - it’s his 40 minutes). I roll him onto his back and grab the baby oil. I suddenly realize that he’s still wearing his tighty whities, so I gently ask him to “Get comfortable.” As if this could get any weirder, he pulls his underwear down around his thighs – like I’m going to check him for hernias. At this point I give up on any hope of this being a nice, normal session.

With my hands oiled up, I gently take his limp dick in my right hand and cup the balls with my left. I’ve only stroked him three times when he suddenly bolts upright yelling, “FUCKING STOP THAT! FUCKING STOP THAT! DON’T YOU TOUCH ME!” He then jumps off the opposite side of the table and starts to grab his clothes. So there I am – standing there topless with baby oil still dripping off my hands – just staring at this guy while he tries to stuff his legs into his pants. He’s having trouble pulling the pants up since his underwear is still around his thighs. My brain is trying to make sense of what happened, so all I can manage to do is stay perfectly still.

While he’s spastically trying to get dressed, he starts mumbling like a homeless guy. Finally he gets the pants up, which I consider quite an accomplishment considering he never solved the underwear dilemma. Now he’s got socks in one hand and his dress shirt in the other. He doesn’t even bother to buckle his belt before he reaches for the door. Now I recognize underneath all that muttering 1 word – “Mother” – repeated over and over.

Light floods the room as he yanks the door open – startling Audrey who was already outside my room wondering what the racket was about. When he gets to the front door, he realizes that he’s not wearing any shoes, so he stomps back into the room and grabs them while holding his pants up with one hand. Then he makes a beeline for the front door again. The door chime makes its pleasant little ding-dong as if to say “Thank you! Come again!” and then the room is quiet.

Audrey is standing still and looks from the door back to me. Her eyes are wide. Without a word to her, I look at my clock. That whole episode from the time he booked the session to the time the door chimed was exactly 12 minutes. It took me longer to write this down than the actual session.


It's days like this that I can appreciate why it costs $4,000 to blow a Governor.

CJ

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I'm here till 11...

You see that picture up in the right hand corner of the screen? You like it? That’s all me boys. 100% real – no silicone. Imagine “The Girls” hovering just inches from your face, or brushing against your chest as I work your stiff cock with both my hands. Better yet – how about I drip some hot oil between my tits, then lean over you and cradle your cock in between them? I would gently press them together with both hands while I work your cock up and down my hot wet cleavage, until you beg me to slow down because you’re about to splash a hot load up against my chin…

Did you like that? Well home come there isn’t a line of you guys outside my door every day? Such sensual delights are right there in front of you for the asking!! All you have to do is go visit your local massage parlor and ask (well, that and a couple hundred bucks). But that’s it!!!!! This is what we do for a living. We won’t make you feel guilty or like a pervert. It’s our job to send you home with a smile on your face and a happy memory.

Now look at this Eliot Spitzer guy. Governor of New York. Spent $80,000 on prostitutes over the years, and almost $4,000 alone on a single night!!!!! $4,000 and the girl still wouldn’t blow him without a condom. Heck – Luna said she’s blown guys without a condom for only $40. What a rip off.

I guess my point here is that these wicked temptations are all around you, and easily within your reach. And you don’t need to spend thousands of dollars to get your rocks off. You can spend a fraction of that, have just as good a time, and not worry about having your phone tapped or your bank account subpoenaed.

I hate to burst your bubbles boys – but you wanna know the difference between a full-service masseuse and a $4,000 escort? The price. Sure, the girls are probably guaranteed to be pretty at the high price agency, but in the end they’re all from the exact same pool of talent – runaways, drug addicts, washed-up porn stars, and girls with daddy issues. I read a book by a high-price call girl, and she said the main difference between the low-end agencies she worked for and the high end ones was the price of the advertising. Of course the high-end clients were never rushed, and they NEVER caught her checking her watch. But in the end – what happened between the sheets was identical no matter how much they paid.

The 4 digit price tag didn’t get rid of that condom, or give up the ass, or even guarantee Eliot wouldn’t get caught!!!! In fact, the high price is EXACTLY what got the Feds attention in the first place! So what I’m trying to say here is that we can all learn from the soon-to-be-ex-governor’s mistake. A lot more fun can be had with a lot less money at your local massage parlor. What are you guys waiting for? I’m here till 11.

CJ

Monday, March 10, 2008

How to Find a Massage Parlor…

One of you guys asked me how to find an Erotic Massage Parlor. Well, the easiest way to start is to pick up the Yellow Pages. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Hummmmmmm…hummmmmm…hummmmmmmm… Ok? Got it? Now open it up to the “M’s and look for “Massage” (If you get to “Massage Therapists” – go back... you went too far). Wasn’t that easy? Go look at the listings. Anything that has the words Parlor, Sauna, or Acupressure in the title – BINGO - it’s a massage parlor! Also, if a listing sounds vaguely asian, exotic, or risqué, it’s probably a massage parlor. For example: Oriental Star, Maximus, or Pleasureland are all probably massage parlors.

By the same token, any ad with the words: LMT, Therapeutic, or Hair and Nails, is NOT NOT NOT a massage parlor!!!! Having begun my career in a legitimate salon, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen guys make this embarrassing mistake.

Other key words to look for in the ads are: Table Shower, Body Shampoo, and Stress Relief. Also look at the hours – Massage Parlors will usually have weird, late hours.

Before I proceed, let me make a disclaimer here… I am NOT advocating any illegal activity on your part. I am just providing some general information that you can use at your own risk. I take no responsibility for whatever you guys get into.

Now that THAT’S out of the way… you probably want to know how to identify a place that’s full service or happy ending only. This one is tougher, but I’ll try to share with you what I know. Any ads that say: Now Hiring, Incall, or Outcall are probably Full Service. Please don’t ask why “Now Hiring” is a code word cuz I don’t know! Now with that said, I can’t tell you any code words to identify a Hand Job Only place. You can try the internet for some chat rooms or something to see if anyone knows anything about your local places. In general, the more legitimate a place appears to be, the more likely it’s HJ only. Or they can be a mix. For example, I’ve worked at places where I was the “Go To Girl” for HJ’s and Therapeutic massages (or suspected Narcs). Since I have my license, I would be the 1 girl they could trot out when things had to appear legit. Know what I mean?

Well guys, this should be more than enough info to get you through the door – the rest is up to you. And remember – we work for tips, so please be generous. If you come in with a good attitude and know what to expect, we’ll both have a good time. Relax! It’s all about having fun!

See ya this weekend!

CJ

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Trina and the Hand Job

Trina was soooooo pissed off when I came to work today. She was just finishing up day shift when she took her last customer. She thought it was going to be an easy 30 minute session, and a little bit of extra money for the road. Anyway, as she's giving this guy a hand release he isn't making any noise. Not a big deal, some customers are the quiet type. Now we're professionals, and it's our job to get you guys off, but a LITTLE bit of feedback would be nice!

Normally we shoot the jizz onto the customers belly for an easy cleanup. Unfortunately, Trina thought the guy was just getting hard and was working him straight up and down. That's when it happened.

POW!

Cum everywhere. And he was a real sprayer too! He shot straight up with little beads of jizz all over her face. It got into her eyelashes, it got into her hair, and a glob even ended up dangling on her nose. She said she totally froze for about 10 seconds. The guy kept cuming, even though her hand stopped moving. That first blast just did her in. When she finally came back to her senses, she tried to wipe up her face as best she could (luckily she didn't get any in her eyes - that shit burns!), but what was really pissing her off was her hair. Guys - you wanna tick off your girlfriend? Just cum in her hair. That shit gets sticky and it's hard to wash out. And when you're at work, you don't want to have to jump into the shower and wash your hair after every customer. I know we're "sex" workers, but we don't want to look like we're sex workers.

So there she is - cum glazed hair, her shift is over, and now she can't leave the building until she showers. And all that for $80. (Last guy who came on MY face was not by accident, and he paid me a very pretty penny for that honor. But that's for another time...)

Now I told you that story to tell you this one. I just discovered that Trina has raised her rates. She went from $60 to $80 for the topless option. At first I was surprised and started to argue that we can't do that without Audrey's approval. Then I remembered that Audrey has already thrown us under the bus. Audrey was NEVER charging what we charge. I feel like its every man for himself around here, so I let it go. Time to change my rates too. Sorry guys - but by the time you read this it'll be too late - my rates have just gone up. It now costs me $20 a day in gas just to get here!!!

But Trina's rates aren't what I wanted to talk about. Trina is my best friend. We both got our Massage Licenses together oh-so-many years ago. We both worked legitimate salons for a while, but it was Trina who made the first move to the Dark Side. Hers is a funny story. I was working at an upscale place near downtown, catering to rich housewives, while she was working a dingy hair and nail place by the turnpike. Her job was legit, but every now and then she would get these guys who would ask her for a "Happy Ending." The first time she was shocked and offended. The second time she was just offended. And by the 20th time she was just annoyed. What was so great about a Happy Ending that they were willing to pay extra money for one?

Well you're probably thinking that one day Trina decided to just take some guy up on his offer and she loved hand jobs so much she never looked back. WRONG. The Hand Job is the bane of all licensed massage therapists. It's that line between good and evil, right and wrong, and legal/illegal. It's the difference between a state licensed professional healthcare provider and a Whore. It's that point in Star Wars where Darth Vader says "Give in to your anger...and feel the Power of the Dark Side!" Do you get my point????? It's really that big of a deal to us!

However, the Almighty Hand Job is also the difference between Luxury and Poverty, New Car and Public Bus, or Macy's and Goodwill. For Trina, it became the difference between Apartment and Homeless. She's always been a sucker for abusive boyfriends (a total self esteem thing that I won't go into), and there was this one guy who ended up ripping her off for almost everything she had. So there she was with no money, no options and no friends (we had lost touch at this point, else I would have helped her out, or made this guy disappear, or a combination of the 2). In legit massage, we typically get $40 - $80 per session, but the salon can take up to half. And tips? Forget it. Biggest tip you'll get is $20. And poor Trina was supplementing her income by doing nails when she wasn't in session.

Rent money can be a mighty big motivator. So big, that Trina left her salon one day and applied for a job in her towns one known massage parlor. She told me that she made the decision all on her own and had no regrets or reservations. She just walked on in and asked for a job. And with her massage license, she was most welcome since they can always show that off to any cops who start nosing around. And that was it. Nothing quite as dramatic as a Lifetime TV special about hooker housewives. It was just another career decision, as far as she was concerned.

When we finally got back in touch and she told me her story, I was disgusted and intrigued at the same time. The idea that my classmate had lowered herself to this level really disappointed me. But I couldn't believe the mad money she was earning. Now I know you're all wondering what her first illegal hand job was like. Apparently it wasn't nearly as traumatic for her as I would have thought. Her first customer was this old guy who was a regular at that business. He didn't ask for anything weird or kinky. She said the hardest thing for her was taking her clothes off for a total stranger. Trina has always been big boned for as long as I've known her. She's always had issues with getting naked with a boyfriend for the first time, but she explained to me that getting naked for a total stranger FOR MONEY was a completely different experience.

In her relationships, she used her body and sex to get guys to like her. Now in The Business, guys are now offering her money for what she normally just gave up. Totally messed with her head. Took her a long time to get used to that, and even longer before she realized she could use this to her advantage.

As for me, I'll save my first hand job story for later. Let's just say that it's as far from Trina's story as possible.

Keep those questions coming guys!

CJ


Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Massage and the Single Girl

Had a fight today with the BF. He can be such an asshole. I know we’ve been dating for several months now, but he just doesn’t get it sometimes. He was sweet at first, even brought me lunch at work a couple of times (he couldn’t tell what goes on here from the outside). He has a key to my place, but he doesn’t come over much anymore. I swear our “dates” feel more like booty calls at this point.

One of you guys asked if significant others ever just “drop by” the Business. Rarely, and when they do, we’re legitimate enough in appearance not to arouse suspicion. Besides – guys are clueless to these things. And if a BF loves you, he’ll believe anything you tell him!

I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t found THE ONE yet. But Tom is good enough for now. I’d like to eventually meet a guy that I don’t have to hide anything from, but that ain’t gonna be any time soon. I have this nagging feeling that it won’t be till I’m outta the sex industry for good.

I wrote before about the dangers of telling BF’s about the Business, but there are exceptions. For example, Luna’s pimp boyfriend knows what she does, but for him this is a step UP from street walking (I guess nothing’s too good for HIS baby’s mama). Trina is playing the field right now, but she feels the same way I do about telling BF’s about work.

Audrey is a different story. She ONLY dates customers. She’ll never admit it, but we all know. Since she spends so much time here, customers are the only men she meets! I know this is a total violation of Dating Rule #1 (Never Date Customers), but Audrey has it down to a science. She only sees them casually and never gets serious. And most of her dates (if you can call them that) are of the weekend getaway type. I couldn’t tell you if any cash is exchanged during these dates, but I do know that she tends to prefer gentlemen who shower her with gifts. They have the MO of married guys, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. And since she dates customers, this has only confirmed my suspicions that she’s now full service.

While I’m on the subject of Boyfriends again, I may as well tell ya something useful. At work we NEVER tell customers that we’re involved. And if we do, it’s always with a “girlfriend” (you guys are such suckers for that story). As far as the customers know, we are all SINGLE, AVAILABLE, AND LOOKING. It’s all part of that illusion we create that you stand a chance with us. I hear that strippers do something similar. After all, what’s sexier? Confessing how I lezzed out with one of my girlfriends last night, or complaining that my baby’s daddy is late on the child support?

We always tell the customers that we’re single. It plays on your sympathies and encourages you guys to open up that wallet a little bit wider in an effort to impress us. Hate to pop your bubble, but we’re just as likely, if not more, to be off the market. Most of the girls I’ve had the pleasure to work with over the years have had guys, but unfortunately of the most sleazoid kind. The massage business (particularly the Full Service places) tends to attract a lot of ex-hookers and druggies, who usually support their BFs. I don’t know what it is, but these chicks LOVE a guy with no money, car, or place to live. Go figure.

Another reason we keep our personal lives personal, is for safety. I mean eventually with some regulars we’ll tell the truth, but all masseuses have stories of stalkers who’ve threatened to “Tell All” to our BFs. Heck, I once had a stalker threaten to beat up my BF! Yes – even yours truly has a made this mistake and learned the hard way to keep her mouth shut.

You wanna know who can keep a secret around here? Married guys. That’s right. They’re so used to keeping their own secrets, that a couple of mine thrown in there are perfectly safe. Plus, some married guys don’t even care if I have a BF. In fact, they often enjoy my own personal drama since it’s not their own. So I have a couple of married regulars that I treat as my own personal psychiatrists.

However, don’t start thinking now that I bare my soul to all the married men. Turns out that the marrieds hold out more hope for seducing me than single guys! I don’t know what it is, but sooooo many of these guys develop this fantasy of leaving their wife for me. And I don’t even encourage it!!!!! They just love to go on and on about ditchin’ the bitch, and “saving” me from this life of drudgery. I can’t tell you how many hundreds of times I’ve heard that story. I just want to roll my eyes and say “yeah yeah whatever. You and the last guy in here…” But they tip well, so who am I to argue with them if they just want to live out a fantasy for an hour?

Well I’m sorry about bitching about my personal life. But I hope you all learned something in the process. Keep those questions coming! See ya!

CJ