Monday, January 30, 2012

The Derek Dilemma

Hey guys. I'm over my cold in case you were wondering, but that's because I gave it to Maude. It's so bad she isn't speaking to me. She says it's all my fault for not regularly taking advantage of the 15 bottles of Purell she has carefully set on every flat surface of The Business.

But that's the least of my concerns right now. I know what you're thinking... "What concerns could you possibly have now that you're the co-manager and partner of a massage parlor? Why you're practically living the dream!" Yes, to the casual observer I may appear to lead a charmed life. But I do have my share of problems.

And my biggest problem right now is named Derek. Well, he's not exactly the problem, but more sort of the complex and delicate situation I've created with him. It all started a long time ago when he first asked me "So what do you do for a living?" Well, I kinda told a tiny little fib, then covered it up with a white lie, wrapped it up in an untruth, stuffed it down a deceit, and then buried it in a fabrication before burning it down inside an abandoned warehouse of fraud.

I told Derek "I'm a shampooist."

99% of the time, that has satisfied the curiosity of most guys. In fact, I swear I can hear a checkbox being ticked off inside a guys head after I've answered that question - freeing him to ask me if I have any tattoos or if I want another drink.

And that answer seemed to satisfy Derek - for a while. But now let's go back to to last summer when I walked out of The Business. Suddenly I was an unemployed shampooist. And you know what an unemployed shampooist cannot do? Go independent. Whoever heard of an outcall shampooist?

So now I had to explain to Derek why I had to go visit "clients" to make money. At first I told stories about how I was picking up a couple bucks a week by visiting my mothers friends at home and doing their hair. Believable. At first. But then as my appointments started to pick up, I couldn't claim that I was washing the same head of hair over and over again.

That's when I kinda sorta casually mentioned that I started offering therapeutic massages.

To my mom's friends.
And some of their friends.
At really weird hours.
Several times a week.

I had to dig up my old massage table from my mom's basement and throw it in the back of my truck! I found some of my old books from massage school and left them around my place for Derek to find! "Oh, did I forget to tell you that took a class or 2 in massage therapy a while ago? I mean, I never used it or anything. Except for that one time... I may have had a job... at a place... somehere... but it never worked out."

I kept this up for a while and right when it finally started to look like I was gonna get away with it - Audrey called me up and offered me a sweet deal. Fuck!!! Now I need a whole new set of lies to cover up the previous lies, and justify the new lies. How on Earth could I go from unemployed shampooist to co-manager in 9 months? Even this was a stretch for a skilled deceptionist like me. How could I convince him I was one hell of a shampooer?

Part of me wants to just come clean and say "Derek, I jerk guys off for a living." In fact, I've dreamed about that over and over again for a very long time. It would probably be the most freeing and stress relieving statement I could make at this point in my life. But the practical part of me wants to say...

"... Insert perfect lie here..."

And this is where you guys come in. I would love to know what the perfect lie would be. I mean, I can't even figure it out.

Honestly, I think the ideal thing is going to be something between the truth and a lie. A sort of quasi-lie or truthy-fib. I'm pretty good at those. Another option is what I call the "joking truth." This is where I actually tell the truth but as a joke. For example, "Why did Audrey put me in charge? Because I love to get naked and jerk off my customers - duh." This way I can always claim to Derek that I told him the truth and it's not my fault if he didn't believe me.

So can you guys out there do better? Points given for the most original solution. And points subtracted for each use of the word "whore." Good luck


Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Open For Business

Hey guys! I'm feeling much better now and back to work as usual. And unfortunately that means that I had to let Cindy go. She knew it was coming, so it wasn't a big deal. But while she was here, she did manage to reconnect with some of her old Regulars and set up some outcalls. And even during the peak of my mucous-fest, we got a request for a double massage.

That was an interesting session. When I tried to explain to "Charlie" that I wasn't exactly feeling 100%, he quickly pointed out "... those titties ain't sick..." Cindy and I have since decided to sell T-shirts with that quote on them.

Anyway, Cindy wanted nothing to do with me, so she stayed as far away from me in that 10x10 room as possible. It was kinda funny - I would massage a leg, then she wouldn't touch it afterwards. I would move to the bottom of the table, and she would move to the top. Well I enjoy fucking with Cindy's head as much as anyone else - but I knew I couldn't keep it up without leaving her SOMETHING to massage. That pretty much ruled out Charlie's penis. And the soft-core lesbian show - forget about it.

Well, I was quickly losing my energy so I turned the massage and happy ending over to Cindy while I took the job of "teaser." In other words, while she was doing all the work, I just had to act sexy and tease the shit out of him. It's harder than it sounds - especially when you can't breathe through your nose and keep coughing up things that are green.

So Cindy was on Charlies right side working his cock while I was on the left, pretending to be sexy. I have to admit to you right now - I fucking phoned it in. I stood there with my red nose, bags under my eyes, coughing, sneezing and blowing my nose (are you touching yourself yet?). I ran through my catalog of "Things Guys Like To Watch Girls Do" - only really really fast.

I grabbed my breasts and gave them a squeeze. Then I bounced up and down for a few seconds. I licked my nipples. I lifted my arms up and ran my fingers through my hair. Then I swayed left and right so The Girls were bouncing back and forth. Now before you think any of this is sexy, keep in mind I did all of them within the space of a minute.

THAT is how sick I felt.

Cindy noticed that I was pretty much being useless and realized she had to kick up her game. So now she starts to moan, squeeze her own breasts and lick her lips. It's like we're doing a slutty version of dueling banjos. But I'm tired and ready to sit down so I just give up. I realize that the best thing in this situation is to draw the attention away from me. I told Cindy to move over and let me finish him. I may not be much to look at, but I can at least perform a decent handjob.

Cindy's handjob technique is a good old fashioned single hand with a top twist. It puts a decent, rhythmic motion on the shaft combined with a burst of sensation on the head. Doesn't work for all guys but Charlie didn't seem to mind. I mimic her technique since guys usually don't appreciate a switch in the middle. The difference is instead of my whole palm, I take only my thumb and run it completely over the head in a quick snaking motion. I think it's more of a tease and not as overwhelming as the entire hand.

Cindy move over to the top of the table and lowers her breasts into Charlie's face. This is more like it and it finally works. Charlie cums in a loud groan and sort of spasms a few times. And none to soon because I really really really need to blow my nose at this point.

And take a nap.


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Closed Due To Illness

Like everybody else out there, I've been out sick for over a week now. And when I say "out sick" I mean I've still been going to work even though I should be locked up in a hospital under quarantine. Do you guys think it's unethical of me to show up to work anyway when I'm this bad off? Especially when you consider I'm close enough to breathe on them and touch them with my germy-sicky hands?

Well the correct answer is "yes - that's pretty fucked up." And I agree with you. And that's why I haven't laid off Cindy yet. Last Friday when I was at my worst, I was so achy I could barely move. BUT, someone had to cover the night shift and there was no way in heck I was gonna let Cindy stay there all by herself. Besides, I still need to sneak her in after Maude goes home.

So for half of last week, I could be found crashed on the office couch underneath a pile of used tissues and empty sudafed boxes while Cindy was doing Lord knows what in session. Honestly, I felt like such crap that she could have been hosting gangbangs for all I cared.

Regulars or anyone else who specifically asked for me, I would explain to them my situation and if they still wanted to come in - well that was their choice. Whenever I'm sick, tired, hungover, etc., I sometimes offer my "Mutual Special." For the price of a nude, I'll let the customer massage me instead. It's a win-win because I don't have to do anything, and I still get paid.

The mutual is an interesting option because I'm never quite sure what I'm going to get. Let's face it, it's basically just a free pass for a customer to play with The Girls. But what's interesting is how they exercise it. Some guys will actually put in a good effort at massaging me - saving The Girls for last. Other guys have just flipped me over onto my back, sprayed a generous helping of baby oil on my breasts, then gone to town - massaging here, rubbing there, and then sneaking in a nipple pinch every now and then. And then I had one guy who basically dry humped my leg while he massaged my back, and then came all over the table.

But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that I did manage to see a few customers over the last week, but at their own risk. I guess once my top is off, they can pretty much ignore anything from my nose up. And Cindy was there for me - always ready to take the next customer.

I was originally planning on NOT bringing her back to work shortly after new years. She knows it, so don't start hating me yet. But I have to admit that it's been kinda nice having her around - like the old days. Except that I'm twice as paranoid that she's going to steal something or get us raided.

I'm feeling better today. For the first time I have NOT finished an entire box of tissues in one day. I see that as a good sign. Believe it or not, there are some guys who do not find a pile of used tissues on the floor very sexy.


Sunday, January 1, 2012

Good Riddance 2011

One day into the new year and the drama begins. Christmas was busy enough between work and shopping and family and all, so I really had no intention of writing anything till after the holidays.

We were holding down the fort pretty well with Trina, Cindy and myself. Business was slow but steady. Cindy was actually showing up on time and not making an ass of herself. Audrey was truly butting out of my business. Maude had the place tastefully decked out in Christmas cheer. And everything was going pretty good between me and Derek.

Then Sugar Daddy Pete showed up.

It was last Thursday and I had just sneaked in Cindy to help me with the night shift. I was sitting at the front desk when he just walked as if he had just stepped out a minute ago.

"Hello beautiful. Can I get a massage?"

I think my jaw hit the floor. I hadn't heard a peep out of him since last spring. And even then it was through Cindy. Now here he is standing and grinning in front of me as if we were old friends. But I have to remind myself that we're not old friends. He's just another customer that I've only seen a couple of times. I know one of those times was at his place, but still - it was more or less business. Just business.

So why are the butterflies coming back to my stomach? Why am I suddenly back in high school talking to the popular kid? I can't even remember Derek's name. And now this man wants a session with me.

Luckily Cindy didn't come up front. He asked about her and I said she was "fine." But I made sure to get him in the room quickly. He took a standard 1 hour session, but we were probably in there closer to 90 minutes. We never even talked options or extras. I just undressed completely and told him to do the same. Normally I leave the room while the customer gets ready, but in this case I stayed. Partly because I didn't want to run into Cindy and partly because I wanted to watch him take his clothes off.

I swear - it felt like our conversation just picked up naturally from the last moment we saw each other. He said he was single. I said I was single. I also said Cindy was engaged, so that pretty much sums up my state of mind. Turns out he didn't get rid of the house he was building out in Amish country. Instead, it went unfinished and he's only just now getting the work started again.

He wants to coming in on a regular basis after the holidays. I've heard all this before, so I'll believe it when I see it. But in the meanwhile I said a lot of things I shouldn't have said. I mean, I've done some fucked up shit at work, then showed up on a date as Derek's faithful loving girlfriend without so much as a blink. But just the stuff I said and thought about with Pete made me feel like I had totally cheated on him. And it ended up just being a normal session with happy ending. Nothing weird - just the standard handjob. Pete didn't ask for anything else, and I didn't offer.

And that was my New Years. Three days of second guessing, regret and guilt about a guy I saw for 90 minutes. Ugh.

Happy New Year. Yeah right.