Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Tales From the Massage Table
You guys would be proud of me. I actually dusted off my old massage table and busted it out of my mom's basement. I was surprised - it's still in pretty good shape considering how long it's been retired.
I needed it for 2 reasons. First, I actually got an appointment for a legit therapeutic massage. Friend of Derek's mom. Second, I'm trying to move away from the the bedtop massage. And this leads me to 2 funny stories.
Derek's mom's friend was a pity appointment. I knew it, but I didn't mind. I figured it was a good chance to practice some of my therapy techniques, break in the old table, and who knows - it could lead to more legit business if she spreads the word to her friends. And at this point in my career, business is business.
"Alice" was in her 60's. A rather large woman who was no stranger to massage, so she knew exactly what she wanted. She came across as a little bossy, which annoyed me a bit because she knew she was getting this session at a bargain rate.
And no - I didn't take my top off out of habit.
But we did start talking about the local massage scene. She even mentioned a few girls I went to school with. And it was when I had been lulled into a false sense of security that she asked if I used to work at The Business.
"Yeah... I left that place a while ago and... uh..." Oh shit. Busted. Fucked. Cat out of the bag.
Alice laughed. "That's OK dear. I won't tell anyone." Not only did she know about The Business, but personally knew a couple of our clients, and even knew Audrey in a friend-of-a-friend kinda way. Small world.
Now Alice was my first use of the un-retired massage table. "Andy" was my first non-therapeutic use. I was worried at first about how he would react, but I had made up my mind and knew I had to start somewhere and it may as well be with him. At first he was a little ticked when I showed up at his place lugging that thing up the steps, but he calmed down when he realized he was still getting a happy ending.
We did a standard 1 hour nude session, and I had almost forgotten what a joy it was to work with a table that was at the PERFECT height. No more fatigue in the arms from over-reaching, or cramps in the legs from kneeling on soft mattresses. And no more problems with leverage when applying pressure to certain massage points. This table was MEANT for massage.
But not meant for breast releases. And Andy wanted to finish with one. I really wanted to keep him on the table, so I had him stay on his back and I would lean over him. And like I said, the table was the perfect height for a massage done at arms length, not for leaning over and wrapping your tits around an erection.
But I tried - and boy was it awkward. I couldn't get the angle right without my calves cramping up, so his breast release turned into more of a hand release inside my cleavage. Andy wasn't complaining, so I just did the switch and stopped pretending. When he began to cum, I tried to angle his cock so it was pointing at my right breast. I was not expecting a violent ejaculation, so when he basically exploded in between my breasts, I turned my head to avoid the splash. When the gush (for lack of a better word) ended, I had semen on both tits AND both arms.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized there was nothing on my face or neck. I cleaned up quickly and thanked Andy for being a good sport about me springing the massage table on him. He actually said he enjoyed it because the massage was better. Hmmmm... Maybe this will work out after all.
I left Andy's place and went straight to Derek's. We were going to a movie and I wasn't going to have time to head home and shower. I cleaned myself up pretty good, so I didn't give it much thought as I walked in and kissed Derek hello.
He gave me a funny look and said "So... is there something you want to tell me?"
I didn't know what he was getting at, but almost instinctively, I reached up to my hair with my right hand. It was a giant gooey mess. I'm talking "There's something about Mary" gooey.
So what do you do when you're standing in front of your boyfriend with your hand coated in another man's jizz dripping from your hair? You give him your biggest smile and say "Ohhhhhhhh - that must be popsicle from Terry's kids. I stopped by just before I came here and one of them must have stuck his popsicle in my hair." Then you make a beeline for the bathroom and pray he has no curiosity about the flavor of the "popsicle" you're about to scrub off.
Now I can't wait to see what my 3rd session will bring me with that damn table.