I think you guys have been wondering why I’ve taken so long to talk about my introduction to erotic massage. I’ve been stalling on purpose since it wasn’t a particularly happy memory for me.
Anyways, to continue the story… This was my 2nd customer of the day, and how could things get any worse? I led this 300 pound trucker guy into a room and tell him to get comfortable. I go back to the front and ask Candy for any last minute tips, and she tells me not to be nervous, to just act totally business like and everything should be fine.
I go back in the room and dim the lights. This guy has stripped down to his underwear and is sitting up on the massage table. I’ve massaged women this size before, but never a man! I’m just wondering how I’m going to get through all that body hair. I try not to act nervous and just go through the script that Dawn had me rehearse, “Hi, my name is CJ. Our options are topless for $40, $60 for G-string and $100 for fully nude.”
Almost too quickly he replies, “I want you naked.”
Okaaaaaaaay… that was a little bit creepy the way he said “naked.” He doesn’t say anything else as I quickly take my clothes off. I remember what Dawn said about us not being strippers, and that it’s perfectly OK just to ditch the clothes without acting it up. I had to borrow a G-string from Candy (just in case this guy wanted that option) so in a way I was kinda glad I didn’t need it. But right then I started to feel really self conscious about the way he was just staring at me.
Oh shit! I almost forgot about the money! Rule #5 – always get cash up front. “Oh I almost forgot mister. That’ll be $100.”
He just keeps staring at me, and now he answers way too slowly. “I only pay $60.”
Now I’m getting nervous and a bit irritated. Rule #3 – options are non-negotiable. “Uh… I’m sorry mister, but I can only do a G-string for $60.” Rules are rules, and in a small way I feel like I can wield them like a shield of some kind. Hey – it’s all I had while I was standing naked in front of a 300 pound man. “You gotta pay $100 for the nude option.”
He gets up off the table. “For $100 I wanna blowjob.” Standing I can see he’s easily a foot and half taller than me. “I always get a blowjob” he repeats, but now he’s saying it like a threat. These rooms are about 10 x 12, so with him standing up he’s already within arms reach. Without realizing it, I backed up against the wall. I looked at the door just long enough for him to notice. “You fucking bitch. Where do you think you’re going?”
That was it for me. I completely forgot I was naked, but remembered everything I had learned in that rough neighborhood I grew up in. In 2 seconds I had slipped past him and was out that door. Fully naked, I made a dash straight to the bathroom while screaming “CANDY! CANDY!”
I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t think my escape plan through. I’m in an unfamiliar place surrounded by strangers, so I jumped in the 1 room I knew I could lock. And my purse and phone were in the office! Of course I didn’t realize any of this until that door was locked behind me.
From outside I can hear “Fuck you!” and “Fuck this!” and “Fuck that!” mixed in with other bits of yelling. Now I gotta hand it to strippers – they sure know how to manhandle a guy. I don’t know if Candy was packing or knew Kung Fu or whatever, but eventually the yelling stopped and she came and got me outta that bathroom.
But by then I was a hysterical wreck… so I hesitantly went back in that room to throw my clothes back on, grabbed my phone and purse, mumbled an apology to Candy, and ran for my car. All I remember about the ride home was that I drove way too fast, while my phone kept ringing and ringing. I went straight to my mom’s house and stayed there for a couple days.
I quit the Spa job and just sort of bummed around for a couple weeks. Neither the boyfriend nor mom seemed to care. Dee and Dawn called a bunch of times those first few days, but eventually stopped. I talked to Rita and she said that the trucker guy had been banned from the business. Apparently he had called up a few times threatening me and even threatened to call the police. I wasn’t the first person he had harassed, but I was the first that the owners had heard about up till then.
Two weeks went by before I finally got the nerve to call them back. I had no intention of returning, just wanted to explain myself in person instead of through Rita. One thing led to another and before I hung up I had agreed to give them another try. I don’t know what I was thinking when you consider everything that had happened 2 weeks before over the space of 2 hours. Maybe it was the empty checking account or the fact that my mom and boyfriend were getting on my nerves with me being home all the time. Oh well.
So there I was the next day, ready for the beginning of my very first shift. The funny thing is that after all that drama before, the idea of the Happy Ending wasn’t the biggest thing worrying me – it was wearing a G-string. I hated those things (still do) and was only hoping no one would want that as an option. I had purchased a bunch the night before - and they were sitting safely inside my purse.
Ironically, I really have no memory of my first “full” customer. I just remember him being a normal guy and a normal session. It was a topless option, so most of the stress was off me. As instructed, I kept my eye on the clock for the end of the session, then told him to lay back and relax. I had never given a handjob before using baby oil, so I over-lubed my left hand then gave him the speech, “If there is any remaining part of your body you would like massaged at this time, please indicate by placing my hand there.”
Guess where he guided my hand? Duh.
And then I did what I had always done with the boyfriends – one hand firmly on the thigh, and the other one doing the good old-fashioned one-handed tug. Now I had rarely ever done a handjob to completion before, so I was actually surprised when he started to moan. Usually the boyfriends would just make me stop when they got hard – looking back I think those few times they came was by mistake!
So there I was tugging away. Well, I must have been doing something right because after a moment he started to moan louder. I asked if I was hurting him, and he gave me a big “Gawd No!” I kept tugging away and eventually he tensed up and gave out a load moan, then came all over his stomach. Up till that moment I had never really paid attention to a penis shooting cum before. As he lied there catching his breath, I remember thinking “Cool...”
And THAT my friends is how CJ gave her first Happy Ending. Not much has changed since then, except that I’ve gotten better at it. I still hate wearing G-strings (I keep 1 in my pocket at work – just in case). And I’m still fascinated with the male ejaculation (I think it’s a power-trip thing).
Oh – and I now carry a taser.
CJ
Showing posts with label First time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label First time. Show all posts
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
CJ Comes Over to the Dark Side - Part 2.5 - The Rules
Did we all have a good 4th of July weekend? Audrey closed the business for 3 days, so I got a much needed break from work. I didn’t do anything productive, just ate and drank with family and friends, plus fireworks on Friday and Saturday. The great thing about Philly is that there are always plenty of fireworks to see. I even had a real date over the weekend with the Brad Pitt clone, but I think he’s getting frustrated because I’ll make out with him, but I won’t let him touch my breasts. But enough stalling…
This is NOT Part 3 of our exciting 3 Part miniseries. I will get to that eventually, but some of you asked exactly how I learned everything I needed to know about the Art of the Happy Ending. When I first started writing about the “birds and bees” talk with Dawn, I actually began to describe all the sorded details of how they did business, but then I got bored with it and thought you all would get bored too. But I guess not. So here ya go… More of the mundane details on how I learned to properly administer a Happy Ending.
Now at the tender age of %^#$ I had already known how to give a decent handjob, but I had never considered it an important job skill. But let me tell ya, back in those days all I pretty much knew how to do was the standard one-handed tug. I mean think about it – in high school, you don’t really have to be particularly good at anything. Just look at an 18 year old the right way, and he’ll get off.
So basically I only had 1 weapon in my erotic arsenal. Dawn never asked if I KNEW how to give a good handjob – she was only concerned that I was WILLING to give one. Looking back, I guess I didn’t realize the full weight of what I had just agreed to cuz if I did, I may have just run back crying to my Spa job. Now that I’m writing this story down, I think that if they told me about the handjobs BEFORE they gave me that first customer, I probably would have just gotten up and left right there in the interview. Instead, my first customer gives me a cash tip bigger than most of my paychecks from the Spa, THEN I’m told what I was supposed to do to earn it.
(But maybe it’s good that I didn’t walk out, else I wouldn’t be here today telling you this exciting story).
After dropping that atomic bomb of a detail, Dawn quickly changed the subject and moved on to more mundane things about how a massage parlor is different from a spa. For example, the next thing she explained was the “options.” She double checked again to make sure I was OK with getting naked in front of strangers, and believe it or not, after that first guy I realized I was. The rooms are dark and it’s just the 2 of us, so who cares – right?
Dawn said I would offer 3 options – topless only, topless while wearing a G-string (Shit – I normally went without back in those days!), and fully naked. Each had its own price, and they were non-negotiable. She then pointed out that most of the girls offer a 4th option – the “Mutual” massage. – but it’s not required and I could work my way up to that. Let me tell ya – I’m glad she said that because even though I had just agreed to the Happy Ending bit, the thought of strangers groping me just freaked me out.
Dawn noticed the look I gave her when she brought it up, so she went on to say that the customers have no right to touch me in the rooms. This bit actually surprised me and made me feel infinitely more comfortable. I’m not sure why, but perhaps it gave me a feeling of control of what happens in session – I can touch you, but you can’t touch me. It was like this little boundary gave me a sense of security, but I would learn soon enough that it was a false sense of security.
“However,” Dawn went on, “you are allowed to let them touch ‘within reason.’” Why on Earth would I WANT them to do that? Ewwwwwwww. Then she explained that it’s all about the tips, and that I could earn extra money by letting the customers touch me. EXTRA money? There’s even more if I let a guy grab my ass? I figured out later that it was in the owners best interest for me to charge as much as possible – partly because it made me a happy worker, but mostly because it meant they could keep their own prices for extras high too.
The last thing she explained was that their sessions ran from 15 to 45 minutes, with the average being 30 minutes. This is different from a Spa where sessions run from 30 minutes to 2 hours. We were to charge the same for options no matter what the length of the session was, so Dee and Dawn wanted us to push the guys towards shorter times. And when I asked how we could possibly squeeze the massage into a 15 minute session (remember – I’m from a Spa), Dawn said “… we don’t. By the time you take your clothes off it’s time for the hand release. Those customers pretty much just want to be finished quickly so they can get outta here. You will learn to love your 15 minute guys.”
As for the 45 minute sessions, Dawn said there’s no point going any longer since you can’t charge extra for options and you’ll just wear yourself out. Plus, they were doing such good business (back then) that they couldn’t afford to take a girl off the floor for any longer. That’s the one and only thing I miss about the old days! Today, sessions are longer, and I rarely see a 15 minute guy anymore. I guess customers want their money’s worth in this economy.
We spent about 30 minutes going over all the ground rules of my new universe, and I tried to concentrate on them and ask intelligent questions since it helped distract me from the thought of giving my first dreaded “hand release.” When I couldn’t think of any more questions, Dawn took me around and formally introduced me to 2 more girls. Six girls in all worked for them, for a total of 8 masseuses.
With the first shift ending, Dee and Dawn left me with a girl I’ll call Candy (since she was a stripper). They wished me luck and said if I had any problems, just let Candy know. Luckily, she was the chatty type so I got a lot of dirt from her (some of which kinda scared me). The first customer at the door she booked in and then passed on to me. I led this 300 pound trucker into 1 of the session rooms and told him to get comfortable.
15 minutes later I was in my car driving 90 MPH and crying my eyes out. I didn’t go back the next day. I didn’t take any calls from Dee or Dawn. I didn’t go back the next day or the day after. And that was my first day in a massage parlor.
CJ
This is NOT Part 3 of our exciting 3 Part miniseries. I will get to that eventually, but some of you asked exactly how I learned everything I needed to know about the Art of the Happy Ending. When I first started writing about the “birds and bees” talk with Dawn, I actually began to describe all the sorded details of how they did business, but then I got bored with it and thought you all would get bored too. But I guess not. So here ya go… More of the mundane details on how I learned to properly administer a Happy Ending.
Now at the tender age of %^#$ I had already known how to give a decent handjob, but I had never considered it an important job skill. But let me tell ya, back in those days all I pretty much knew how to do was the standard one-handed tug. I mean think about it – in high school, you don’t really have to be particularly good at anything. Just look at an 18 year old the right way, and he’ll get off.
So basically I only had 1 weapon in my erotic arsenal. Dawn never asked if I KNEW how to give a good handjob – she was only concerned that I was WILLING to give one. Looking back, I guess I didn’t realize the full weight of what I had just agreed to cuz if I did, I may have just run back crying to my Spa job. Now that I’m writing this story down, I think that if they told me about the handjobs BEFORE they gave me that first customer, I probably would have just gotten up and left right there in the interview. Instead, my first customer gives me a cash tip bigger than most of my paychecks from the Spa, THEN I’m told what I was supposed to do to earn it.
(But maybe it’s good that I didn’t walk out, else I wouldn’t be here today telling you this exciting story).
After dropping that atomic bomb of a detail, Dawn quickly changed the subject and moved on to more mundane things about how a massage parlor is different from a spa. For example, the next thing she explained was the “options.” She double checked again to make sure I was OK with getting naked in front of strangers, and believe it or not, after that first guy I realized I was. The rooms are dark and it’s just the 2 of us, so who cares – right?
Dawn said I would offer 3 options – topless only, topless while wearing a G-string (Shit – I normally went without back in those days!), and fully naked. Each had its own price, and they were non-negotiable. She then pointed out that most of the girls offer a 4th option – the “Mutual” massage. – but it’s not required and I could work my way up to that. Let me tell ya – I’m glad she said that because even though I had just agreed to the Happy Ending bit, the thought of strangers groping me just freaked me out.
Dawn noticed the look I gave her when she brought it up, so she went on to say that the customers have no right to touch me in the rooms. This bit actually surprised me and made me feel infinitely more comfortable. I’m not sure why, but perhaps it gave me a feeling of control of what happens in session – I can touch you, but you can’t touch me. It was like this little boundary gave me a sense of security, but I would learn soon enough that it was a false sense of security.
“However,” Dawn went on, “you are allowed to let them touch ‘within reason.’” Why on Earth would I WANT them to do that? Ewwwwwwww. Then she explained that it’s all about the tips, and that I could earn extra money by letting the customers touch me. EXTRA money? There’s even more if I let a guy grab my ass? I figured out later that it was in the owners best interest for me to charge as much as possible – partly because it made me a happy worker, but mostly because it meant they could keep their own prices for extras high too.
The last thing she explained was that their sessions ran from 15 to 45 minutes, with the average being 30 minutes. This is different from a Spa where sessions run from 30 minutes to 2 hours. We were to charge the same for options no matter what the length of the session was, so Dee and Dawn wanted us to push the guys towards shorter times. And when I asked how we could possibly squeeze the massage into a 15 minute session (remember – I’m from a Spa), Dawn said “… we don’t. By the time you take your clothes off it’s time for the hand release. Those customers pretty much just want to be finished quickly so they can get outta here. You will learn to love your 15 minute guys.”
As for the 45 minute sessions, Dawn said there’s no point going any longer since you can’t charge extra for options and you’ll just wear yourself out. Plus, they were doing such good business (back then) that they couldn’t afford to take a girl off the floor for any longer. That’s the one and only thing I miss about the old days! Today, sessions are longer, and I rarely see a 15 minute guy anymore. I guess customers want their money’s worth in this economy.
We spent about 30 minutes going over all the ground rules of my new universe, and I tried to concentrate on them and ask intelligent questions since it helped distract me from the thought of giving my first dreaded “hand release.” When I couldn’t think of any more questions, Dawn took me around and formally introduced me to 2 more girls. Six girls in all worked for them, for a total of 8 masseuses.
With the first shift ending, Dee and Dawn left me with a girl I’ll call Candy (since she was a stripper). They wished me luck and said if I had any problems, just let Candy know. Luckily, she was the chatty type so I got a lot of dirt from her (some of which kinda scared me). The first customer at the door she booked in and then passed on to me. I led this 300 pound trucker into 1 of the session rooms and told him to get comfortable.
15 minutes later I was in my car driving 90 MPH and crying my eyes out. I didn’t go back the next day. I didn’t take any calls from Dee or Dawn. I didn’t go back the next day or the day after. And that was my first day in a massage parlor.
CJ
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
CJ Comes Over to the Dark Side - Part 2 – Anatomy of a Happy Ending
When I started writing Part 2 of my first day at work, I realized that there was just too much to cover. So I’m going to have to break this up into a 3 part series if I’m going to do it justice. Now if you remember, it’s my very first day at work in a massage parlor. I have just had my first experience with a customer who wanted to see me naked (gasp!) And he wanted me to give him a handjob! (double gasp!). Keep in mind that I’ve only been at work in the Business for about 60 minutes.
Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dawn had a good laugh at my expense with that first customer. He took that whole fiasco in stride since he was good friends with those two. As some of you guys have suggested, I think they had him come in just to break in the newbie.
I’m still shaken up by what’s happened so far, when Dawn takes me to the back office to explain the “Birds and Bees” of erotic massage. I think Dawn gave me the talk since she was also a LMT (Licensed Massage Therapist).
“I see that Rita didn’t fully explain what we do around here?” She said with a smile.
“Uh… No. What kinda place is this anyhow?” At this point I was mad, confused and embarrassed. Mad that they threw me into this. Confused by everything new around me. And embarrassed by my reaction.
“That’s OK CJ. Let me explain…” She took a deep breath. “This is what we call Erotic Massage,” She made quotation signs with her hands. “We give NON-therapeutic, relaxing massages to men,” I liked the way she stressed the word ‘non.’ “And we end each session with what we call a ‘Hand Release.’” She saw my eyebrows arch at that. “Have you ever heard of a Happy Ending… No? Well, basically it's a handjob.” She looked at me and let it set in.
Basically? -What the Hell does that mean?! I didn’t say anything – I just continued to look at her with my eyebrows arched. She must have thought I was mental. “Are you OK with that?" she asked.
I wanted to think first before answering. Up till now I’d only given handjobs to 3 different boyfriends, and most of those were foreplay – not to completion! But I felt really stuck there sitting in front of her, hearing all this for the first time, while that $100 tip was burning a hole in my pocket. I decided to just say yes.
She could tell I was nervous and did her best to put a spin on things. “This is NOT a full-service massage parlor” she said as if that explained everything to naïve, country-bumpkin, kid-outta-high-school me. “There is absolutely NO sex allowed in this Business.” I think the look I gave her was something between total incomprehension and relief. She continued, “You end every session with a hand release and nothing more. The customers are not allowed to ask for anything else, and the girls are not allowed to offer anything else, or I’ll fire them.”
Looking back I now see this was a load of crap, but live and learn, right?
I remember thinking “Well that’s good!” as if that 1 minute explanation really made getting naked and jerking strangers off completely normal and OK. But I think the burning $100 tip was slowly curing my confusion and irritation. She double and triple checked with me that I’m OK with all this, and I said I was. This is when Dawn finally told me the full rules of her Business.
The first thing she explained was that her Business offers “Relaxing” massages – not Therapeutic. I went to massage school, and they didn’t exactly cover the “relaxing” technique (nor the Hand-Release for that matter, but I digress). Dawn described it as “…deep tissue, but at half the intensity. Ever do a one hour deep tissue on a fat house wife?” My hands ached at the thought. “Well, we don’t do that here.” Phew! Even I liked that idea.
The next thing she explained was that all sessions end with a hand release.
All? Every single guy who walks through that door? Aren’t there any customers who just want a massage and a topless girl to look at?
“ALL sessions end with a release” she said as if that was the end of it. “Now pay attention because this is really important. When you get to the last 7 or 8 minutes of your session, end the massage with the customer on his back. “ She looked seriously at me then continued, “Now it is absolutely essential that you begin the hand release by saying the following…”
And this my friends are the words that launched my career, spawned a thousand handjobs, and continue to haunt me to this day.
“…If there is any part of your body that you would like to be massaged at this time, please indicate so by placing my hand there.”
And that is how CJ became an Erotic Massage Therapist. Mind you I was still a “virgin” since I hadn’t actually provided any happy endings yet – which is the true milestone of going over to the Dark Side. Dawn filled me in on the more mundane details of how they do business including what options we were allowed to offer, pricing, etc.
Armed with my new knowledge on how to offer a happy ending, I went back to the break room to await my first chance to practice the dreaded “hand release.” So for now I’ll just say that my first customer – the naked man asking me for a handjob – was the highlight of my day. It only went downhill from there.
CJ
Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dawn had a good laugh at my expense with that first customer. He took that whole fiasco in stride since he was good friends with those two. As some of you guys have suggested, I think they had him come in just to break in the newbie.
I’m still shaken up by what’s happened so far, when Dawn takes me to the back office to explain the “Birds and Bees” of erotic massage. I think Dawn gave me the talk since she was also a LMT (Licensed Massage Therapist).
“I see that Rita didn’t fully explain what we do around here?” She said with a smile.
“Uh… No. What kinda place is this anyhow?” At this point I was mad, confused and embarrassed. Mad that they threw me into this. Confused by everything new around me. And embarrassed by my reaction.
“That’s OK CJ. Let me explain…” She took a deep breath. “This is what we call Erotic Massage,” She made quotation signs with her hands. “We give NON-therapeutic, relaxing massages to men,” I liked the way she stressed the word ‘non.’ “And we end each session with what we call a ‘Hand Release.’” She saw my eyebrows arch at that. “Have you ever heard of a Happy Ending… No? Well, basically it's a handjob.” She looked at me and let it set in.
Basically? -What the Hell does that mean?! I didn’t say anything – I just continued to look at her with my eyebrows arched. She must have thought I was mental. “Are you OK with that?" she asked.
I wanted to think first before answering. Up till now I’d only given handjobs to 3 different boyfriends, and most of those were foreplay – not to completion! But I felt really stuck there sitting in front of her, hearing all this for the first time, while that $100 tip was burning a hole in my pocket. I decided to just say yes.
She could tell I was nervous and did her best to put a spin on things. “This is NOT a full-service massage parlor” she said as if that explained everything to naïve, country-bumpkin, kid-outta-high-school me. “There is absolutely NO sex allowed in this Business.” I think the look I gave her was something between total incomprehension and relief. She continued, “You end every session with a hand release and nothing more. The customers are not allowed to ask for anything else, and the girls are not allowed to offer anything else, or I’ll fire them.”
Looking back I now see this was a load of crap, but live and learn, right?
I remember thinking “Well that’s good!” as if that 1 minute explanation really made getting naked and jerking strangers off completely normal and OK. But I think the burning $100 tip was slowly curing my confusion and irritation. She double and triple checked with me that I’m OK with all this, and I said I was. This is when Dawn finally told me the full rules of her Business.
The first thing she explained was that her Business offers “Relaxing” massages – not Therapeutic. I went to massage school, and they didn’t exactly cover the “relaxing” technique (nor the Hand-Release for that matter, but I digress). Dawn described it as “…deep tissue, but at half the intensity. Ever do a one hour deep tissue on a fat house wife?” My hands ached at the thought. “Well, we don’t do that here.” Phew! Even I liked that idea.
The next thing she explained was that all sessions end with a hand release.
All? Every single guy who walks through that door? Aren’t there any customers who just want a massage and a topless girl to look at?
“ALL sessions end with a release” she said as if that was the end of it. “Now pay attention because this is really important. When you get to the last 7 or 8 minutes of your session, end the massage with the customer on his back. “ She looked seriously at me then continued, “Now it is absolutely essential that you begin the hand release by saying the following…”
And this my friends are the words that launched my career, spawned a thousand handjobs, and continue to haunt me to this day.
“…If there is any part of your body that you would like to be massaged at this time, please indicate so by placing my hand there.”
And that is how CJ became an Erotic Massage Therapist. Mind you I was still a “virgin” since I hadn’t actually provided any happy endings yet – which is the true milestone of going over to the Dark Side. Dawn filled me in on the more mundane details of how they do business including what options we were allowed to offer, pricing, etc.
Armed with my new knowledge on how to offer a happy ending, I went back to the break room to await my first chance to practice the dreaded “hand release.” So for now I’ll just say that my first customer – the naked man asking me for a handjob – was the highlight of my day. It only went downhill from there.
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
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
