Anatomy of a Raid

I've never been in a raid myself, but I know quite a few girls who have. So here's what I know and heard.

Before ending up here at The Business, I worked at a place that had recently been taken over by a new owner. This guy has no idea what he was doing and instead of acting like a manager, he acted like a pimp. Not only did he not mind the girls doing full service in session, he actually encouraged it. So the place basically went from massage parlor to brothel overnight. And when this asshole told us we had to fuck him to keep our jobs - most of us quit.

That place got raided about a couple months later. Not because any of us squealed on him, but because his business began to attract the wrong kind of customer. That's one of the main differences between the clientele of a massage parlor and a brothel. In a parlor, the customers are mostly guys who are just thrilled to see some boobies and get a handjob. In a brothel, you'll get criminals spending their latest haul, and drug dealers looking to score a few new customers.

So to answer some of your questions, yes the cops do come in with guns drawn and making a lot of noise. This is for 2 reasons. First, they want everyone in the building to know that this is a raid and not a robbery. So anyone packing (and I will neither confirm nor deny whether we typically pack or not) will think twice before reaching for their own stuff. And second, they need to protect themselves just in case someone is dumb enough to pull a weapon (ya never know if that big spender you just had in session got all his money from knocking over a liquor store).

Raids happen super fast. They have to if they want to actually catch anyone in the act. Unlike a drug bust, we don't have any evidence that can be instantly flushed down a toilet. Instead, they want to catch the girls (and guys) naked in session. That way they can at least get you for public lewdness/indecency/etc. for having 2 naked bodies in the same room. Judges don't tend to buy the "...but she was topless for therapeutic reasons!" defense. Believe it or not, they go for the lesser charge of indecency because it's hard to get the charge of solicitation to stick. Mainly due to lack of evidence.

Now before some of you start crying "bullshit" because you read in the paper that the girls in a raid were all charged with prostitution - that's because they had all solicited undercover cops before the raid even started. Unless they have on camera a guy offering money for sex, there's no evidence to prove anything. There can be a pile of money on the counter, a guy tied to a bed with a gag in his mouth and a dildo up his ass, and a trashcan full of used condoms - there's no real evidence of prostitution. My friends that have been caught up in raids all had those charges thrown out in court.

HOWEVER... that doesn't mean that no one's going to jail. With enough "prostitution paraphernalia" lying around, they can usually bust the owner for running a house of "ill repute." The girls can all be arrested and have the shit scared out of them. And depending on the true nature of the raid, the customers may or may not be dragged through the streets for all the neighbors to see. At the very least, the guys will be questioned and released with the promise to never show their penises in public again. At worst, they'll be actually arrested and charged with public lewdness, with their names sent to the local paper.

That's exactly what happened around here a number a years ago. A place got raided not for the girls, but for the high-profile customers. No one famous, but a couple of business-owners and community-leader types. We all guessed they had a few enemies looking to take them down.

As for the businesses themselves - this is a free country and there is no law against offering massage services to the public. The cops can't confiscate your building. In fact, one of the first AMPs to be busted a year ago petitioned to reopen shortly afterwards. The owners reasoning - "I didn't know the girls were all illegal immigrants from Korea having sex for money." So if the place doesn't reopen under a different name, it'll probably just pack up and move across town.

Now why would anyone running an illegal business want to stay in the exact same notorious spot you may ask? For the same reason any good business would - location, location, location. If you've spent a few years building up a clientele at that address, why confuse anyone by moving it? Face it - EVERY town has 'that place" that's rumored to be a brothel/parlor/crackhouse/etc. And notoriety is the kind of advertising that money can't buy. So if you can't reopen at your old address, someone else will.

So if we're taken down tomorrow, chances are I'd post bail and be on my computer telling you all about it that night. Or maybe not since the DOJ is monitoring this website.

CJ

Too Close For Comfort

Wow - what a week.

9 parlors taken down. 8 of those were in a neighboring county just over the weekend. Busy week for law enforcement and bad news for working girls. However, since all of them were Asian Massage Parlors (AMPs), I don't feel too badly.

I tnink this pretty much illustrates what I've been saying all along about the elections. Everyone who's in office and wants to stay there will take credit for being "tough on crime" at the expense of some poor girl trying to work off her debt to her mafia owners. These raids are the kind of thing that the local news loves since they combine everything that makes for great TV:

Sex
Organized Crime
FBI
Politicians
Disgraced husbands walking with coats over their heads
Frowning girls with no makeup

Hey guys - you wanna get tough on crime? How about fixing downtown so I can walk down the sidewalk after 8pm without getting robbed? Sorry - but that kind of cleanup can't be done before voting day.

Am I getting bothered by all this? Oh yeah. It's starting to make me nervous again - especially since I thought we were in the clear. We've been seeing newbies for a couple months now, and even I'm wondering if maybe we should lay low till next week.

Speaking of which, I have a girlfriend who owns a business near where they busted those 8 parlors over the weekend. I mentioned her before - she offered me a job a couple years ago when I was tired of Audrey's bullshit. Anyway, I called her up as soon as I heard. She was pretty much hiding under a rock when I called. They're more or less shut down, simply because she can't get anyone to come to work, let alone answer the phone. Not that she wants to go to work! She's scared to death to drive anywhere near that place right now.

We talked for over an hour and I filled her in on what's been happening out here, since we've been the center of the crackdown for over a year now. I suggested that she do what we did - just stop taking new customers for a couple of months. Period. End of story. She thought that was crazy and none of the girls would go for it. But I said what better way to guarantee no narcs than only taking Regulars?

We also swapped a few tips on keeping ourselves safe in this environment. However, I would still bet money that the crackdown fades away in a couple of weeks. And another thing I'd like to point out - out of the 2 dozen places raided over the past year, only 2 of them were good old fashioned American massage parlors. It must take a LOT of complaints before the cops are forced to take one down. Just goes to show that they really don't care about business such as ours, until they're noticed by too many people.

Now if I go suddenly off the air without a trace, then we'll both know that I was completely and utterly full of shit!

CJ

Confessions of an Erotic Reporter - A Happyendingz Exclusive

Hey guys - you're not gonna believe this, but I got an exclusive interview with one of the girls who used to work at the parlor that got shut down last month. And even more unbelievable, it's courtesy of Audrey.

Apparently "Crystal" just started looking for a job and got Audrey's number. They spoke for a bit because Audrey is considering hiring another girl. Personally I don't think we need the help. The 3 of us are fine with the number of sessions we're currently doing, but Audrey is so greedy that the thought of losing a single customer because he couldn't wait 30 minutes between sessions just eats her up. Who cares if a 2nd girl has to sit around for 6 hours waiting for that to happen, as long as Audrey gets that door fee.

But I digress.

Anyway, Audrey called me up and asked "You want to talk to this girl? She's from that place that just got raided." Well of course I wanted to talk to her! The blog aside, I wanted to know what happened just out of professional curiosity. Whatever we can learn from their mistakes, right?

So Audrey put me in contact with her, with the promise that I had to see if she'd be a good fit. I told Trina and Cindy too and they wanted to know all the details when I was done.

Crystal worked at the other place on and off over the past year. She only covered 2 shifts per week and was not officially on the books. This is probably why she got lucky and slipped under the radar screens during the raid. In PA parlors it's not uncommon to have girls working under the table since the only staff you can legally have must be licensed massage therapists. For example, Cindy is not officially on our payroll. There are loopholes in the laws concerning training, experience, etc., but I won't bore you here with it. Enough to say that the new laws are designed to weed out the full service massage parlors.

According to Crystal, there were a couple other part time girls who also avoided the raid, but they have sworn off the massage business for now. The crackdown really has made a lot of local girls nervous about working.

Crystal is what I like to call "Half Service." She'll do an oral release in session (with condom) but won't do actual sex. She saves full service for a limited number of customers she only sees outside of work. Because she wasn't full service, she was scheduled to just help out on a couple of shifts per week. I explained to her that we're not full service and she said she was cool with that. I also mentioned that part time availability is fine since we're not busy enough for a full time hire (which is true).

I asked Crystal if she's heard any news or spoken to any of the other girls recently. The others who weren't caught in the raid are laying really low for now - afraid that the ones who got arrested will turn on them for the prosecutors. Apart from that bit of news, she's avoiding that part of town like the plague.

Now the danger of hiring a girl like Crystal is if her name ever comes up in the investigation of the other parlor, they may eventually track her down over here. And THAT is the kind of publicity we can't afford.

I asked if she had any idea they were about to get raided. She said apart from the stories in the paper about the crackdown, she wasn't expecting it. They thought they were careful, and they thought they had people looking out for them. Oh well - just because you have a couple local cops as customers doesn't mean the state won't target you. Especially in an election year! Speaking of which, I'll bet money that the crackdown will miraculously end this month. That's local politics for ya.

And lastly for the heck of it, I ended our interview with "So Crystal... have you had any customers lately looking for a girl named 'CJ?'" She said "no" and I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed.

When we were done on the phone, I told her Audrey will be in touch if we decide to hire her. She actually seemed nice enough - especially if she only wanted a couple of shifts. But with the crackdown going on, she may be too hot to handle right now.

CJ

Freak of the Week - Stinky Stan

I know it's been a while since I've had anyone worthy of FOTW. But I've been sitting on a couple stories for a while as I waited for the whole serious cloud to blow over. Lucky for you guys, I can finally tell them.

Stinky Stan is relatively new, but he's already been in here twice in the last month. In fact, we've had a whole wave of newbies recently, and business has been decent. Anyway, the first time I saw him, we had a normal session with nothing exciting to write about.

Then the other day he comes in and Trina lets me know with a "Get your ass up front cause I'm not going back there." I was like Huh? And she was like "You'll see."

You know how you can tell some people are around before you see them? This was the case of Stinky Stan. I started walking up the hallway when the smell hit me. And it was pure ass. Imagine a really dirty diaper left wide open and sitting right in front of you. That's what this smell was like.

I think I actually staggered when it first hit me. When I regained my composure, I held my breath, waved to Stan, and quickly ushered him into my room. I asked him very kindly to jump into the shower and then get comfy on the table, and I'd be back in 10 minutes. Then SLAM - I closed that door and let out a gagging noise. Trina was already coming down the hallway spraying Lysol.

Some of you guys out there are probably wondering why we didn't just throw him out. On occasion that has happened - usually when it's a repeat offender who REFUSES to hit the shower. Then there are some customers that even the shower isn't enough.

So I figured a quick scrub and 10 minutes for the room to air out would do the trick. And it did. I came back in the room and Stan was up on the table and fresh as a daisy.

I started the session (45 minute G-string) and things are going smoothly. Then it hits me - a whiff of ass. Now if a guy passes gas in the room, it's no big thing and I can tolerate it. But this odor didn't go away. In fact it began to get worse.

I tried to ignore it and just concentrate on the massage, but after a while it just became too much. I stopped the massage so I could light all 3 aromatherapy candles in the room. I didn't say a word either. He knew it. I knew it. The candles knew it. It was BAD.

Stan wasn't one for small talk. And I didn't want to talk because I figured the less I opened my mouth in this cloud the safer I was. My stomach started to ache and I could actually feel a sort of gag in back of my throat. Have you ever noticed when you're sick, that the thought of throwing up just makes you want to throw up even more? Well that's what began to happen here.

And right when I thought I couldn't take any more, I looked up at the clock and... 20 MINUTES LEFT?!?! Holy fuck. I can't... No way... Oh Gawd...I'm gonna...

"Excuse me."

In a great display of restraint, I casually opened the door and walked out - almost butt naked except for a G-string. I didn't care if my own mom was standing outside that door. I shut gently shut it then jumped into the customer bathroom. I didn't even make it to the toilet - I hurled right into the sink. The cool air in the room felt good, but I still retched and heaved a few more times.

After a few minutes, I calmed down and cleaned up myself and the bathroom. I checked the clock behind the desk. 15 minutes left. Ugh. May as well be infinity.

I realized right then and there that I could not finish this session. Mentally I could not be in the room for even a few minutes. So I took a few deep breaths to calm down (and savor clean air) and I walked back in.

"I'm sorry Stan, but I think I've got food poisoning or somerhing..." Like I'm really gonna tell him the real reason!

Then Stan looks at me with a deep feeling on concern and understanding. A moment passes where our souls seem to communicate without words but through eyes only. He pauses and lets out a slight sigh. Then he says the most profound words I have ever heard in my entire life.

"Oh that stinks."

I told him I really had to end our session early and apologized for not getting to the end part. He was disappointed, but I offered him a double next time and he was cool about that. But it didn't really matter at that point because my brain was already in the back office trying to catch its breath. I don't know if Stan noticed that I didn't even dress up - I just grabbed my clothes off the chair and left the room.

I put my clothes on in the office and begged Trina to see him off. She mumbled a few words to him about how I didn't look good and it was very understanding of him, etc. I would say it took about an hour or so for my stomach to settle back down again.

So next time someone says "that stinks so bad I wanna throw up" picture me standing over a sink wearing only a G-string and actually doing it.

CJ

WTF?

Holy Shit.

The last thing I remember is telling you guys that I finally got around to answering questions. Then I check in yesterday and discover everyone went postal on each other. That's what happens when I leave you guys unsupervised for a week. And to make matters even worse, I found a few highly uncomfortable items in the comments that I had to remove. Now before you start bitching about how everyone is entitled to their opinion, well let me remind you that this is MY blog. So there.

At first I was amused about some of the comments and I was fully planning on responding. However, I soon realized that things kinda got carried away and it wasn't going to be that simple. Now I wish you guys out there would stop using "Anon" because it makes it hard to keep track of who said what. So I think I'll address what I see as the general topics.

Let's begin with a story, shall we?
About every month or so, 2 town cops park at the far end of our strip mall. We call them the Blues Brothers, because they wear dark glasses and sit in a cop car. They show up to scare off customers for a few hours and to show the locals that they're on the job (personally, I think it's the guy next door that calls them). Business slows down for a few hours, then picks up when they leave.

With 2 policemen sitting right outside our door on a regular basis, they have yet to bust in and shut us down. So I sincerely doubt that the key to cracking "The Mystery of the Anonymous Happy Ending" was discovered by a particularly overzealous reader spending months surfing websites about handjobs. When he finally called the "DoJ" to report an anonymous girl telling stories about anonymous men at an undisclosed location receiving unsubstantiated sexual favors, I kinda doubt their reaction was "We hope he found all his evidence on the internet!" And honestly, the DOJ? Please. At least make up something believable next time.

The Search For CJ
When I first started confessing what a typical day is like in a massage parlor, I thought it would be funny if someone actually figured out who I was. I think I even offered a freebie or something to the first person to come in and mention the name "happyendingz." Boy was I wrong.

The first time a customer mentioned the blog, I was scared shitless. Suddenly the reality of it hit me - confessing secrets anonymously on the internet wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be. I don't know which one of you Anons said it, but I don't think the readers are morons. Heck, quite a few readers have been in The Business since I started this blog. But I can honestly say that not a single one of them have found the real "CJ" because I have never admitted to it. What I have discovered is that a lot of guys out there have found A CJ, not THE CJ.

Turns out some of the local girls have confessed to being CJ to make a few extra bucks. I've heard this from friends at other parlors (more on this later), and a couple customers. Kinda creepy when you think about it. But if I find it creepy, I can only imagine what it must be like for all my fellow masseuses in the Delaware Valley. I wonder what they think of the whole "Are you CJ?" thing?

Promi$cuity
You know who I hate? Waitresses. Bunch of fucking stuck up bitches. The other day I walk into a restaurant and I ask for a grilled cheese sandwich. After enjoying my sandwich (and diet coke), she has the nerve to hand me a bill for my sandwich! I was like "What the fuck? I can get this at home for free. Where do YOU get off charging me money for something that I can get at home for nothing." That's the problem with restaurants - they would be a lot more fun if it weren't for all these assholes asking you for money. I love to eat, but it becomes demeaning and exploitive when money gets involved.

THIS is what I thought of that comment about promiscuity and money.

CJ is a Dirty Whore - or What Am I Doing Here?
I always find it amusing when people have critical things to say about me or my job. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and I even appreciate the occasional "You should save your money and get a real job." Hey - that's the plan.

But what I really don't understand are the people who insist on defining me as a whore, slut, skank, etc. The purpose of this whole confessions thing is not to get your approval for what I do - it's to inform you on what really goes on in this industry, and hopefully give you a laugh at the same time. But these guys who are really angry and spiteful with me, it's almost like they keep reading and reading every week in the hopes that one day I'll end a story with...

"... it suddenly occurred to me as I had my left hand wrapped around his cock and 2 fingers up his ass while I whistled the Star Spangled Banner, that what I was doing might be wrong. And at that exact moment I decided to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior and turn from my wicked sinful ways..."

To these people, let me remind you that this blog is about happy endings. Heck - it's right in the title!!! Have you noticed that every story ends with a handjob? You get a handjob! She gets a handjob! Everyone who walks through the door gets a handjob! Why are you guys continuously surprised and disappointed? If you're really that sensitive and would like your stories slightly less handjobby-ish, may I suggest you try www.Disney.com.

And for those of you still waiting for my conversion to the good side, let me remind you that I am a cradle born Catholic. Hypocrisy is my middle name.

Haters and Lovers
What can I say about the guys who have nice things to say about me and the blog - I love you guys! YOU get it. Read. Learn something new. Have a chuckle. Done. That's it. There really is no ulterior motive to this blog. I meet an interesting character in session. I tell you guys about it. And that's pretty much why I started confessing everything on the internet.

Those of you who don't believe me - fine. You try spending 40 hours a week in session naked with a stranger and NOT have something slightly peculiar happen. Those of you who think I intentionally lie to promote some sort of agenda - Great! I'm actually flattered that you think I'm a lot more than just some silly girl who gives happy endings for tips and then writes about it. But the fact of the matter is that I just write about what I see. And if it hasn't happened to me in this little corner of PA, then I know nothing about it.

And finally, to those of you who have actually paid attention to what I've said, taken notes, and have successfully gotten an erotic massage at a local parlor - good for you! You are the wind beneath my wings and the reason why I have so much fun doing what I do.

CJ

FINALLY....

... got around to answering comments from the last 2 weeks. Sorry!

CJ

Taboo

When you're trying to find something interesting about work to talk about, that's when you realize all the stuff you're NOT allowed to talk about. I've always made it a point to never use real names (that's why there's probably a dozen stories in this blog about a guy named "Mike"). I've slipped up a few times, but it's not like anyone will ever figure it out.

Hopefully.

CJ Who?
Now when it comes to interesting customer stories, I have to be careful about who I write about and when. For example, I make it a point NOT to mention readers who have actually done their homework and found The Business. And yes - there have been a lucky few. You have no idea how freaky it is to have a guy on the table asking me if I've ever heard of "CJ" or "happyendingz." So the last thing I can do is write "another guy found me yesterday" without him figuring it out. And those guys can NEVER be a freak of the week, which can be damn frustrating, let me tell ya.

The Names Have Been Changed To Protect The Guilty
Another thing I can't mention are the actual names of local businesses. I mean if they're in the paper as getting shut down, I can't stop anyone from finding it on the internet. But real names I'll never post here. When I first started this blog, I used to make the mistake of recommending local parlors to guys who asked me by email. Then it quickly dawned on me that if I mention the competition, then by the process of elimination they could eventually find me. So now my standard reply to requests for appointments or recommendations is "sorry, but I can't for obvious reasons..."

TMI
Then there's things I just shouldn't talk about - or at least not in too much detail. For example, I've been keeping you guys up to date on how we've been protecting ourselves here at The Business during the current crackdown. I've mentioned a few things we've done, like cut off newbies for a few months, but then there are specific techniques that we use that I won't mention here - just in case. So before any of you assume that we're all sucking off state troopers to stay in business - think again. That technique obviously didn't work for the other parlors that got raided recently. However, if any of my girls are out there reading this (Red I'm talking to you), I'll gladly give you an update on the latest intel.

Regulars
Lastly, there are my beloved Regulars. I've made it a point not to do profiles on my regular customers because over time I'd probably end up revealing enough info for these guys to recognize themselves on the internet. That's why I usually do individual stories, with a new fake name attached each time. The last thing I need is a Regular to realize "Hey - I'm Freddie the Foot Fetish Fan!"

A Guy Walks Into A Bar...
And did you ever notice how I start my stories with "A guy came in yesterday..."? It's always "yesterday" or "last week" or whatever. So if anyone out there thought I was talking about you personally because you just happened to be in a massage parlor yesterday wearing women's underwear asking to be spanked - I apologize. Maybe it really was you yesterday. Maybe not. But never ever assume that you're the only guy on the planet who practices your particular little kink. Hell, I still meet foot fetish guys who are shocked to hear that I have a standard price for that.

Think you're the only guy who ever dressed up as Little Bo Peep, and asked me to baaaa like a sheep? There's a reason why they sell her costume in XXL in adult toy stores.

Now if I ever slip up and mention the butterfly tattoo on your left ass cheek........ oh shit!

CJ

Another One BItes The Dust...

Well another parlor got raided recently only this time it was 100% good-ole All American (USA! USA!). A little bit too close to home? Oh yeah. That's a dozen raids in the last year alone. And according to the paper, the FBI has now jumped in to investigate ties to organized crime and human trafficking.

I didn't know any of the girls personally, but Audrey said she kinda remembered one of them. I think she said one of them may have talked to her about a job last year. I don't remember.

Am I surprised? The only thing I'm surprised about is how long it took to get to that place. I mean it was pretty well known as a full service parlor. According to the paper, police were responding to complaints from neighbors and this is NOT part of a "crack down."

For as long as I can remember, they never really went out of their way to cover up what they did. Hell - even their name was a dead giveaway. It was one of the places that puts an ad in the local weekly entertainment rag with pictures of women in bikinis asking you to "cum on in." I mean it was that bad.

OK... maybe not THAT obvious, but it was still pretty bad.

So I guess all the paranoia around here was justified over the summer. Shit, we cut off newbies for several months so that probably saved our asses. Between that and Audrey cashing in whatever favors she had left, The Business will live to see another day. And I will bet you money that after the elections, there probably won't be another raid for a long time.

Think about it - local ultra-conservative religious group demands the town to cleanup the parlors. Local politicians jump on that bandwagon for a full year before the elections. Coincidence? It never is. Just haven't seen it this obvious in a long while.

CJ

The Tale of Two Hookers

The other day I started telling a story about Cindy, and then I turned it all about me. I can be such a selfish bitch. So today I owe you one.

The last story I told about Cindy blowing a customer during a double was the last time anything like that happened. We've done a couple more doubles since then, but they were just standard happy endings with 1 girl doing the HJ and the other one teasing. But I am reminded of the time Cindy and I entertained a couple of Sugar Daddy's back in the good old days. I've mentioned this story before, but today I'll tell the whole thing.

Actually, it was my SD and one of his buddies. The buddy was in town and my SD wanted to entertain him properly, so he asked if I could hook him up for the evening. Cindy was game (hell - she's always game), so we made plans to meet them at their hotel for an evening of dinner, drinks and "whatever."

Cindy and I really got slutted up for the occasion. My SD (we'll call him "Tim" and his friend "Mike") enjoyed being seen in public with a girl on his arm. So our thing was to get dressed up and paint the town red. He wanted to turn heads, so I'd get all decked out in something tight with "fuck-me" heels, then he'd take me to busy restaurants, bars, etc. At the end of the evening, he'd usually just drop me off at my car or home, and that was it. He never asked for HJ's when we were out - he figured that's what The Business was for.

This night was pretty much the same routine, except now we were doing it as a double date. However, Mike had different expectations on how the evening would end - and that's where Cindy came in. I think Tim's exact words were "Do you have any friends that could like... do him?"

So there we were - Cindy and I all dressed to kill. I told her how Tim likes to see me dressed, so she was similarly done up in a short dress and heels. Biggest difference was that she had taller heels and showed way more cleavage. In other words - sluttier (I still love you Cindy!).

We drove over to the hotel in my car with the radio cranked up - just having a good time. We got there early and decided to have one last smoke before we headed up to the room. So out in the parking lot, we lit up and stood outside the car listening to the radio.

A couple minutes go by and an older gentleman wearing a tie with a short sleeve shirt walks out of the hotel and towards us. He's staring straight at us the entire time, so we know something's up. As he gets closer we can see that he's wearing a name tag like he's the manager or something. Cindy and I stamp out our cigarettes.

"Excuse me, but I'm going to have to ask you two to leave." He looks dead serious as if he's done this drill before and we obviously know what the hell he's talking about.

I said "Uhhhh... why? We weren't doing anything." Cindy and I both looked at each other confused. "I'll turn the radio off," I said as I stuck my head in the car window.

"Don't play around." His look didn't change any. "I don't care what you do, I just can't have you two working here."

Did he just say "working?"

Cindy and I looked at each other. Then we started laughing. And the more she laughed the more I laughed. This was obviously not the reaction the guy was expecting. He starts to stammer "uhhhh... I... uhhhh..."

Between belly laughs, Cindy points at me and squeaks "He thinks you're a hooker!" before doubling back over in laughter.

Now I can't breath because I'm laughing so hard. But I catch my breath and yelled "YOU look like the hooker!" Then I loose it again.

Come to think of it, we probably both looked like hookers - although technically I was acting as a pimp that evening. And also an escort. I was a sort of pimp-scort.

The manager guy finally let out a relieved laugh and explained that we both looked like hookers - especially on the parking lot security cameras. When I finally calmed down, I told him we were meeting our "Johns" inside, then going out to dinner. He got another laugh out of that, but I guess it wasn't too far from the truth either.

Tim and Mike were waiting for us in the lobby since we had been delayed. Cindy and I told the story on the way to dinner. Luckily they found it funny too.

Dinner and drinks were fun. I checked in with Tim in the middle of the evening and we agreed that Mike and Cindy were hitting it off. I made it a point to act flirty with her in public so Tim would have more to brag about later.

We were all pretty toasted by the time we got back to the hotel room. Tim's an older guy who tires out easily, so I knew he would just want to chill out. We planted ourselves on the pull out sofa and started watching late night TV. Unfortunately for Mike and Cindy, there was no other room to go hide in. So they started making out on the bed by the light of the TV screen.

For the most part we ignored them. I got up a couple of times to get a fresh beer for Tim and myself. Each time I glanced over, they had switched positions and another article of clothing was missing. They thought they were being subtle by sliding underneath the sheets, but when a head disappears and you see a lump in the sheet rising up and down, you can figure it out.

Tim and I turned the volume of the TV up as they got louder and louder. Thankfully, there was a final grunt from Mike and the sheets stopped moving. A few minutes later, Cindy gripped a king-sized pillow and made a dash for the bathroom with her tiny, crumpled dress in her hand. Mike lit a cigarette.

Good timing - I was getting sleepy. After Cindy had freshened up, Mike said his goodbyes to Cindy and then Tim walked us down to my car. I kissed him goodnight before he handed me an envelope.
"Thanks girls!" he said with a smile and yawn. "I don't think Mike will ever forget this night any time soon."

And I haven't either. Cindy and I split the cash in the envelope and she ended up seeing Mike a few more times whenever he was in town. As for me, I love the fact that I finally have a place where I can tell this story in it's entirety.

CJ

Cindy Revisited

One of you guys asked for another Cindy story and I realized I haven't talked about her lately. Funny thing is that I recently discovered something about her that I thought I could mention.

Cindy has a sugar daddy.

At least that's what it sounds like to me. I know she'll occasionally see a customer outside of work, but I guess this guy has become a sort of regular thing (let's call him "Gary"). I've met him a few times - he's been in that often. Seems nice enough, a bit young in appearance for a SD, but who knows - maybe he's a dotcom millionaire or something. Then again there are some guys who just love that "Suicide Girl" look that Cindy has perfected.

If Gary was coming in that often, I can understand why she offered to start seeing him outside of work. She's never shied away from blowing or even fucking an occasional customer in the room, but at least this way she won't get busted by Audrey's sister. And he saves the door fee. BUT, she lives with her boyfriend (and baby daddy) and I don't know how she's explaining the occasional midnight trip to the grocery store.

[And yes, I know that she'll probably read this in a couple of days, but it's not like I haven't said this to her before.]

Perhaps I'm reading too much into her situation. I mean, I don't have a SD right now but now that I think about it, I'm not sure how I would explain to Derek about some of the odd work hours I would suddenly have to put in...

"Yes dear, I did work the morning shift, but Trina needs to leave work at 10pm and there's no one to fill in for that critical 1 hour before closing time and I could really use the extra money to help pay for that fabulous birthday present I want to get you since it's only 11 months from now, and have you been working out because that shirt looks really good on you, would you like a blowjob?"

I'm not sure if the idea is uncomfortable for me because of guilt, or because of inconvenience. I lie about 8 hours of my day, so what's the big deal about an extra hour or 2 - right? Maybe it's because SD's require an extra amount of attention and availability. I don't know, I'm feeling funny even talking about it right now.

Luckily, there are no Sugar Daddy's or even potential ones on my radar screen at the moment. I have to admit that the admiration and attention they provide is fun, but I'm just seeing it differently this time. Oh well. Let's just hope that Gary doesn't have a rich, horny, and handsome brother.

CJ

Confessions of an Erotic Economic Indicator

Well I have some good news for a change. I was talking to Audrey the other day and she confirmed that August was our busiest month in almost 3 years.

I knew business was going to pick up a little bit because last month was when we finally started letting newbies back into session. Heck - we went for most of the summer relying on just Regulars for business. So the total number of customers jumped to pre-economic meltdown days.

A good chuck of that was new customers, but we also saw in increase in business from Regulars. Audrey said the door fees were also good, but not the same as 3 years ago because guys are taking shorter session times nowadays. As for tips, August was great because we finally started offering options to newbies again. We were getting killed with the therapeutics because guys generally don't tip with those.

So what does this all mean in terms of the economy? Well the official HappyEndingz forecast is that the number of guys with disposable income is finally returning to pre-recession levels. In other words, more people have jobs now. I mean, August may have been a fluke due to the high number of frustrated, horny newbies who were banging down our door all summer. So we'll see if the numbers continue to stabilize through the next quarter.

As for levels of disposable income, it looks like the consumer index is still low on this one. Guys are willing to spend money on massages, just not nearly as much as they did pre-recession.

According to the "CJ Options Index" - Topless is up, while G-string remains flat. Fully nude and mutuals are still way down. Meanwhile on the "CJ Extras Index" - breast and butt releases are slowly making a comeback while foot fetish remains at an all time low.

And that's my take on the economy. Next up - Erotic Sports and Weather!

CJ

Distracted

Wow - I can't believe that I actually went a week without realizing I hadn't posted anything. But I guess you could say that I've been "distracted" lately. That's the polite way of saying that I've gotten laid.

Hmmmmmmm... Bitch about work or go fuck? Tough one there. Answer Email from borderline stalker or quickie in the shower? Let me think about it...

The beginning of a relationship is always fun. It's the middle part where I have to juggle privacy versus intimacy that I hate. And then there's always the end part where everything turns ugly and I eventually spend a Saturday night drinking tequila and sorting out my CD's from his.

I've been talking to you guys about the fine line you have to walk regarding personal relationships when you're in this kind of business. So will I take any of my own advice and try something different this time in the hopes that maybe it'll turn out differently? Probably not. I know me and I fear change. So I'll just stick with what I know - the slowly spiraling maelstrom of lies and deceit that ultimately ends with total relationship destruction and emotional ruin.

But for now I'm getting laid! Go me!

So let me start by giving you guys a quick idea of the unique aspects of dating an erotic masseuse.
Always Wait For Us To Shower
The last thing you want to do is suprise us with an "intimate" encounter when we first come home from work. "Oh baby... you smell so good, what's that scent you're wearing?"

"That's jizm from my 3 o'clock."

Give Us Time To Decompress After Work
I once had a boyfriend that basically tore my shirt off after I came home from work - wouldn't take "no" for an answer (the Girls are known to have that affect on people). He proceeded to give me a very thorough tongue caressing of my nipples. And I might have enjoyed it too, but unfortunately all I could think about was the breast release I had given 30 minutes ago. Totally weirded me out.

Don't Buy Us Lingerie
You really don't know what awkward is until your boyfriend asks you to wear that "special" thing he bought you last week and you suddenly realize you've already sold it to a Regular. Or even worse - you can't wear something because it's stained. And those stains aren't his...

So that's what I'm about to go through now. Wish me luck and I promise to bring you something more work related next time!

CJ

Confessions of an Erotic Undercover Detective - Part 2 (The Sting!)

Hey guys! Sorry I left you hanging with that last story, but it was getting late and I had to get back to work. This last week has been crazy busy. In fact, I spoke with Audrey the other day and she confirmed that August has been our busiest month in almost 3 years. But more on that later...

Now when we left off, Derek had just shown me that phone number he had gotten from his masseuse on the boardwalk. I swear - I was seeing red. I sooooooo wanted to run back there and tear her a new one. How DARE you proposition a guy who obviously came in with someone. And in broad daylight!!!

Well, Derek calmed me down and got me to drop it. But I did vow to get to the bottom of whatever it was that just happened. Partly because I wanted revenge, but mostly out of professional curiosity. I mean - how do you advertise an illegal business through a legal one? Are they both owned by the same person? Is one a front for the other? Or is she an independent? And most importantly - if I wasn't there, would she have offered a happy ending to Derek right there behind the privacy divider?

That night before dinner, I had derek hand me that phone number. I *67 my number and called.

"Hello" said a heavily accented voice.

I've done this a hundred times before - it's my Ditzy Housewife routine. "Yeah hi. I would like to schedule a massage for today."

There was a hesitation. There's always a hesitation at hearing a female voice. "Uhhhh... you have wrong number. We no do that here."

"But I got your number from my husband who said he gets his massages there." I love to throw that in to confuse them. I seem to know what's really going on, but why would I know from my husband? She's probably wondering if I want a happy ending too.

"Uhhhhh... no appointment. We booked." I was disappointed - she caved way too easily. She should have just kept denying everything then hung up.

"How about tomorrow? Or anytime this weekend is good." Now I was just torturing her because I knew she can't say anything. I wondered how she was going to bail.

"Hold please."

Whoa - I wasn't expecting that. Usually they just hang up on me. It's the easiest way to tell if a massage parlor is legit or not - have a girl call up and try to make an appointment. Now for you newbies out there looking for an erotic massage - all you have to do is find a girl you can trust to make that call for you!

I heard some chinese chatter in the background and finally a not-quite-as-accented woman picks up the phone. "Hello, can I help you?"

Now it was my turn to be caught off guard. "Uhhhhh... Yes... I wanted to schedule an appointment please."

"I'm sorry, but we are no longer accepting any more appointments. I will give you the number to call to make an appointment."

Ahhhhhh... so that's their game. She gave me a local number and then hung up. Of course I immediately called the new number. And guess what? It was for the place on the boardwalk! Each place was a cover for the other!!!!

Derek asked for the number back so he could schedule an appointment. I told him to fuck off. At this point, I don't think he knew what to make of my enthusiasm for this undercover investigation. And it probably didn't help any that I immediately got on the phone, called Trina and told her everything. Derek started yelling in the background that he wanted his own happy ending, so I told him if he keeps that shit up, he'll be taking care of his own happy endings from now on.

And that was my undercover reporting on the secret world of New Jersey Asian massage parlors (or NJAMPs). If any more of you guys out there have something to add, feel free. In the comments last week, someone left a great story similar to mine.

CJ

Confesions of an Erotic Undercover Detective (Part 1)

My little confessions over my vacation were not the only uncomfortable moments that week. In fact, the whole massage parlor, masseuse thing became kind of a running joke. Let me explain.

In Atlantic City, the boardwalk is chock full of cheesy souvenir shops, greasy diners, amusements, and (... drum roll please... ) massage parlors. But these aren't the kind that I work in, or even the AMPs that I deplore. On the boardwalk there are actual massage parlors filled with rows of massage tables and chairs for all the world to see. They are not happy ending places, but more of a walmart of massage services.

They rely on the tourists and make their money with low prices and high volume. And by coincidence, they just happen to all be run by asians. I can't claim that they're all sex slaves trapped by the mob - particularly since there's no sex going on and half the staff are guys.

So there we are... Derek and I walking down the boardwalk and passing these places every day. It started off with little jokes like "Hey CJ, is that what you do?" or "You wanna try it?" At first I would just laugh it off, but then it became "how about a couples massage?" or "I bet you could show them a thing or two."

Oh you have NO idea.

But it just got old after a while. I mean he just kept bugging me about it until I had to tell him to knock it off. However, I felt guilty for snapping at him and eventually it was me who brought the subject back up. As a peace offering I actually offered to buy him a massage. Heck, I should have thought of it before - for just $30, he shuts up and I get 45 minutes of uninterrupted shopping.

Unfortunately it backfired. When we got inside one of these boardwalk places, they did the hard sell and tried to get us both in. Now let me take a step back and describe what these places look like. They're basically an entire shop space that's nothing but massage tables and chairs. There's no store front, so you can see inside the entire thing from the boardwalk. People just walk in and get a table or chair massage while hundreds of people walk past and gawk at you.

Needless to say I was horrified at the thought of lying down on one of these nasty ass tables while teenage boys point and giggle. You may think I'm in no position to criticize another parlor, but let me tell ya, in my room at The Business, you could eat off those floors (just in my room - Audrey's room was a biohazard).

There was NO way I was gonna touch those tables, but I did agree to a 30 minute foot massage by a rather fatherly looking Chinese gentleman in a dress shirt and tuxedo vest. Meanwhile Derek arranged for a 45 minute full body massage with a short, round Chinese woman wearing a T-shirt with Justin Bieber. Derek double checked to make sure I was OK with him getting a massage by another woman, and I was like "knock yourself out."

Now let me add one more piece to the puzzle here. This place was basically a line of 6 massage tables and massage chairs, then there's a privacy divider in the back. Apparently there's one more table behind the divider that can't be seen by the public. And behind that is the business office and restroom for the staff.

It was behind this divider that a short, busty Chinese girl suddenly appeared. And when I say "busty" I mean artificially busty. I think both my eyes and Derek's popped out of our heads. He gave me this sort of "I'm sorry" kinda look as she led him back BEHIND that divider. I figured there wasn't much trouble he could get into in a place like this, BUT I wasn't going to touch him until after he thoroughly scrubbed himself off back in the room. All I cared about at this point was getting my foot-on.

Let me tell ya something... I've never had a professional foot massage before. I mean, I've done the pedicure thing where they might rub your feet for a minute or 2, but that is NOTHING compared to 30 minutes with a professional. Holy Shit. I swear to Gawd, if this old guy was a sex slave owned by the mob, I might have to reconsider my stand on AMPs. It was soooooo good that HE made a foot rub feel like a blowjob. It was THAT good.

I completely forgot all about Derek and his petite top heavy masseuse behind the divider. She could have been blowing him for all I care, as long as it didn't bump me from the cloud I was floating on. But alas, all good things must come to an end. I didn't need a happy ending to my foot rub because 25 of those 30 minutes were pretty much happy ending enough for me.

I wrapped up before he did, so I got to sit in the massage chair and just relax for a few minutes. I asked if I could smoke a cigarette, but Tuxedo said I'd have to go outside first. Damn men are all alike - they thrill you then leave you.

Derek walked up a few minutes later and we walked out together. I asked him how it was, and he said not bad considering he had all his clothes on (you don't disrobe in these places - they just do you in your shorts and T-shirts). I asked him jokingly if she offered him a "happy ending" and he said no, but she did offer him something else.

He motioned for us to keep walking while he fished in his pocket for something. A few store fronts down, he pulls me around a corner and shows me a piece of paper. "She gave this card and told me to call this number if I wanted anything else."

Why that little motherfucker. That full service skank propositioned my man right in front of me! I wanted to storm back there and tear that little slut a new one, but Derek calmed me down and convinced me to just laugh it off. Ha ha.

Now the business part of me actually wanted to call that number and see what the deal was. Is this how parlors advertise in Jersey? I have to admit I was curious.

But this wraps up part 1 of my expose on Atlantic City massage parlors. Time for me to get my ass to work!

CJ

Confessions of an Erotic Confessor

Hey guys. My little vacation was exactly what I needed to recharge my batteries, but it's funny how sometimes work just follows you no matter where you go. Let me explain.

I have a bunch of things I wanna share with you from last week, but I need to keep it simple else I'll be blabbing here all week. Anyway, let me start off by saying that this vacation was the longest time I've spent with a guy (Derek) in a very long time. And it was interesting in an academic kinda way. I'm back to those age old questions of what do I tell him and when. I spent the week pondering things such as:

Should I tell him about The Business?
How much should I tell him?
Confess that I'm not really a shampooer?
Admit I'm really a massage therapist?
Tell him I occasionally strip to a bra for extra money?
Tell him the whole thing is temporary?
Say my coworkers are all full service sluts, but I'm a good girl?

Makes for interesting conversation when he's saying something like "...I hope to manage the store in a few years and I may go back to school for my MBA..." Meanwhile I'm thinking "... I could tell him about the foot fetish guys, but definitely not the cross dressers..."

Now to make a long story short, I told him I'm really a licensed massage therapist and not a shampooer. I lied because guys usually expect massages all the time (which is another lie - most guys actually don't care and never take advantage of those particular talents of mine. Go figure). Derek was cool with it and said he understood (but I knew he didn't).

He then felt compelled to confess to me that he wasn't exactly truthful about how he found out where I worked. Apparently, he had gotten the directions from that skank girlfriend of mine, but then googled The Business and couldn't find anything. Said he knew all along there was something weird about my story, but didn't want to ask about it till I was ready. Thank Gawd he didn't try stopping by again!

Laying that much stuff on the table was easy. The weird part was towards the end of the week when we were messing around on the balcony of the hotel. He wanted me to "use your hand in that special way" (yes - he said it that gaily). So I told him to sit still so I could do it right. I went in the bathroom and got some baby oil from my bag (never leave home without it!) so I could give him a proper hand release. A few minutes later he was grunting and slapping the arms of his chair while I jerked him off onto the balcony floor. He turned to me, looked me straight in they eye and said "Where on Earth did you learn to do that? I swear that it felt just like a blowjob."

I wanted to tell him about my infamous double-handed criss-cross technique, and the various cell-phone videos of it floating around the web. But instead I just said "I musta picked it up somewhere."

CJ

The Craigslist Killer - Good Riddance

Hey guys - I'm back.

So much to talk about from my first real vacation in a couple years. But for right now all I want to say is good fucking riddance to this fucking asshole...

http://abcnews.go.com/US/TheLaw/craigslist-killer-philip-markoff-swallowed-toilet-paper-revived/story?id=11413302

This piece of shit made me sick. And with him gone it's 1 less reason for all of us to look behind our backs. It's not like this way of life isn't dangerous enough as it is, but for this fucker to prey on women just trying to make a living in a world that isn't protected by the law just really put me over the edge. I hope that mutherfucker is burning in Hell right now.

Can you tell I'm slightly affected by this story?

Anyway, for me this was fantastic news to cap my relaxing (and eventful) week at the shore. I'll go into detail later, but let's just say that it started with flying down the PA turnpike at 100 mph in a rented car and ended a week later with me almost getting run over by an Amish horse and buggy. That's Pennsylvania for ya.

CJ

Vacation!!!

No... not the TV show with all the oiled up freaks. I'm talking the real deal. I am going on my first beach vacation in 2 years now! The guy I'm kinda more or less sorta seeing, is taking me to Atlantic City for a very long weekend. So the bad news is that I may not post anything till later in the week. But I'll try to check the comments and stuff.

In the meanwhile let me fill you in on the stuff that's been happening around here. First of all, we finally started to see newbies again (THANK GAWD). After a couple months now of turning away first-timers, we're now starting to offer options to new customers that we're comfortable with. Things have seem to settled down around here after the crackdown, so we all agree it's time to get back to business as usual.

Also in the news, I got interviewed by a girl claiming to be from a "real" magazine. She asked me a bunch of questions about the "happy ending." I was kinda nervous and suspicious after the whole Playboy Radio fiasco, but I figured maybe something in writing would be safe. I don't know if she's going to plug my blog or not, but when I find out I'll give her a shout out here. I don't want to just start bragging about being quoted in a magazine article if it never ends up happening.

Plus she sounded kinda weird on the phone. Kept asking the same question over and over again. Made me wonder if she was really a reporter or perhaps a suspicious housewife. Of course I was paranoid at the time about that subject since it made for some heated discussions around here. Oh well.

So have a good weekend guys and try not to miss me too much!

CJ

The REAL Client List

This is something I've been wanting to bring up for a while now. Some of you guys out there have expressed concerns about getting arrested or "outed" if you just happen to stop by a massage parlor at the exact wrong time. Believe me, for the most part you have nothing to worry about.

Yes we do keep a "client" list here at The Business - but it's not what you think. It's basically just our own log of how many customers we have during the day, how long a session they requested, and anything else noteworthy. Nothing different from what you would find at a day spa. We do make it a point not to gather any personal information from clients, since this obviously scares the living shit out of them.

Most entrees look like this:

Tony. 3:30. Walk-in. 45 min.

Pretty much harmless stuff. Now what you see in the movies and the newspapers about client lists being submitted to police - that's another story. When you're running a high-end escort service or bordello - no matter what they tell you as a customer - they will go out of their way to gather as much dirt on you as possible. So when they do get busted, the owner can use it as a bargaining chip. Heck - look at Spitzer. For his $5000 hookers, he bought absolutely no privacy, did he?

When you're at a local place like The Business, and the clientele are auto mechanics, truck drivers and travelling salesmen, the prosecutors really have no interest. In a small town like this, there are no political points to be scored with a witchhunt of the Townies.

If there's a big scandal like when the DC madam revealed her client list, it's because there's some ulterior motives involved. One politician trying to destroy another, etc. When you're small beans, like us, people really DON'T want to know who's been a customer.

For example, when I first got into the business (a few years ago, ahem) there was a scandal involving a rival parlor. Apparently there was a big sting and they ended up catching a couple cops and several "upstanding" local citizens. And when all was said and done, the only thing the city had to show for it was a giant embarassment to the police department, and several high-profile divorces. AND the parlor later reopened across town as if nothing ever happened!!!

So in other words, there really is nothing to worry about if you go visit your local massage parlor. There are no hordes of police and camera crews waiting to pounce as soon as you drop your pants. Unless you're a former vice president of course.

CJ

The Client List

Did any of you guys catch the "Client List" with Jennifer Love Hewitt on Lifetime? It was another poor attempt by Hollywood to show what a massage parlor is "truly" like on the inside. Makes me gag. Once again another example of someone screwing things up by not consulting an erotic masseuse.

I think most things in life would go easier if you consulted with an erotic masseuse first, don't you? (I'm STILL looking at you Al)

Anyway, I forced myself to sit through some of it in the name of professional development. I rolled my eyes through most of it, but then again I realized that the point of the movie was to make things sexy and scandalous so people would watch. If you want realism, check out those HBO specials on the Bunny Ranch. Now those are some real whores.

So what was technically wrong with it you ask? Well for starters, all the workers were drop dead gorgeous. But they had to be - they were all Hollywood actresses and not teenage runaways, drug addicts, strippers, or morally challenged massage therapists. A real massage parlor worker has more of the "girl next door" look. And a full service bordello (like in the movie) is more like the kinda girls you see in Walmart at 2:30 in the morning.

Another thing that bugged me was all the women walking around in lingerie at work. There is no quicker way to get busted by the cops than by having your staff walking around half naked. At a real massage parlor, the staff lays low and dresses conservatively so anyone walking in off the street would never suspect anything. But once in the room, you can break out all the lingerie, stiletto heels, and rubber masks to your hearts content.

And finally, I LOVED the fact that this place catered to the rich and powerful. Boy, I wonder if they're still hiring! The fact of the matter is that you don't really get to choose your customers - especially in this economy. A Busboy's money is just as good as a Lawyers. Do you really think there's a woman at the front desk asking for customers resumes?

I mean, we've had our share of local politicians, cops, lawyers, doctors, business owners, etc. But politicians tend to be REALLY discrete when they stop by. They do the whole dark glasses, fake name routine. You know who brags the most about who they are? - local TV/radio/sports guys. They're just famous enough to want you to kiss their ass, and not famous enough to worry about the scandal of being caught in a massage parlor.

Now if Steven Spielberg is out there reading this crap - give me a call and I'll give you the REAL inside story of a massage parlor. But then again, could you really show a handjob in a movie?

CJ

Outcall Massage for Dummies

Hey Guys! I was thinking that if Al Gore was a fan of my blog, he wouldn't be in the trouble he's in now. Or he might be in worse trouble? Who knows. Anyway, I thought that maybe it's time for me to review some of the basics of getting your happy ending for some of the newbies out there. And if you're a high powered politician, then you especially better pay attention and take notes. You know who I'm talking to...

Today's lesson is entitled "Outcall Massage, or How To Get Your Happy Ending In The Privacy Of Your Own Home."

Outcall massage is a genuine form of massage therapy and is primarily meant for customers who are bedridden, or cannot travel to a massage therapists office (i.e. senior citizens, people with disabilities, etc.). Nowadays however, outcall is associated more with tired businessmen in airport hotels. I did outcall for a little bit when I was just out of massage school, but it's a tough line of work. You have to lug around your own massage table, and the customers are often in poor shape or even ill. The pay is good if you can find an agency that can keep you busy.

But we're not gonna talk about that. We're gonna talk about the kind of outcall meant for tired businessmen at airport hotels. This is not the kind of outcall I did, but I know more than a few girls who do this. I guess you could say I have done erotic massage on outcall, but that was just a few times for very special customers.

So you wanna have some girl come over to your hotel and provide you with some manual stress relief? Go grab the phone book (it's next to the Gideon's Bible) and flip it open to Massage. If you're in a big city, chances are you'll find a few businesses that advertise outcall massage or "We Come To You!!" Stay away from any listings using the term LMT (Licensed Massage Therapist) or "Chair Massage." If your hotel offers massage services, chances are they are legit (unless you're a vice president).

Now identifying a happy ending provider is tricky because they're just not gonna tell you over the phone. However, you can try to get an idea by asking some questions. For example, "What kind of massage do you provide?" The key words to look for are stress relief, soft or accupressure. If they use the term therapeutic you may as well hang up. Another good question is "Does the masseuse have her own table?" If the answer is "No" then you are 99% home. A legit massage therapist would insist on using a portable table.

[Of course you could just avoid all this secret code stuff and just open up the yellow pages to the Escort section. That pretty much guarantees you'll get laid, but does not guarantee a massage. However, I'm an erotic masseuse, so I'm going to assume that you're still looking for a massage first and foremost.]

Now that you've figured it all out and she's on her way over, you need to seal the deal. Make sure you have cash. Chances are she's not gonna have a credit card reader in her purse, and do you really want her reading your credit card number to some guy named Rocco on her cell phone? Outcall tends to cost more than Incall because you're paying for her travel expenses etc., so try to have the cost of the session as discussed on the phone, plus an extra $100 for a hand release. If you want full services, better make it at least $200 additional. Now if you're wearing an adult diaper with a Batman mask, and you want her to bend you over her knee because "... I've been a very bad boy..." - you better empty out the ATM.

When I was listening to them discuss the Al Gore thing on the Howard Stern Show, they said it was a code sign to hug the masseuse when she arrives. I've never heard of that before - but maybe some girls do that. At The Business, I don't hug anybody I just met. I'll jerk them off, but I won't hug them. Oddly enough, my personal space doesn't include my left hand.

Anyway, the next code sign is the towel. When the masseuse asks you to "get comfortable" or "would you like a towel?" the correct response is to get naked and decline the towel. If you keep the underwear or towel - you're getting a therapeutic massage only. By the same token, if she tells you to keep on your underwear and use a towel, you may be screwed (in the bad way). Your last chance is to say "I'd prefer without" and see what she says. If she insists, then you're getting a therapeutic and you better like it.

Assuming you've successfully gotten this far and you're lying there naked on the hotel bed without a towel, the happy ending is pretty much guaranteed. At this point, she may start the massage or negotiate her tip. If she starts immediately, then she'll either offer you her options at the end of the massage, or she has no options and you're getting a hand release only. You can politely bring up the topic of "extras" at this point if you want something specific. If she offers you options up front, then the door has now been opened and you can ask about whatever perversions float your boat.

This conversation probably did not take place in Al Gores hotel room.

Remember - the masseuse sets the tone of your session and you have to follow her rules. Don't get pushy. If she's a fully clothed, handjob only kinda girl, then accept it (I'm looking at you Al). If she's a full service escort, then you may not even get to the massage. The point is that you probably won't know until after she walks through the door and explains her services to you.

There - that should be just enough information to get you guys started on your own tabloid scandals. Good luck! And if there are any guys out there with more secret tips or code signs, please feel free to weigh in.

CJ

An Inconvenient Handjob

Have you guys been following this whole Al Gore sexual assault thing? I usually don't give a shit about politics, but I took an interest to this story out of professional curiosity. I mean, masseuse accusing customer of assault - right up my alley.

Has it happened to me - oh yeah. More times than I care to think about. Luckily I've gotten out of it each time and lived to tell the tale. But I've been following this story, and I heard a discussion about it on the Howard Stern Show last week, and I wanted to throw in my 2 cents.

This story stinks.

I don't want to side against one of my fellow masseuse sisters, but I'll try to be objective. I read her statement on what happened, and what the tabloids think happened. And there are soooo many holes in the story that you guys wouldn't believe it if I said it happened to me. Funny how no one bothered to interview a masseuse to get their take on what might have happened. I know erotic massage, and I know outcall (having done it few times back in my old legit days). So here's my take...

It sounds like a happy ending massage going badly.

From what I've read, it sounds like Mr. Gore had a thing for outcall massage. So much that it might have played a part in his divorce. Now outcall has a bad reputation for being a thinly veiled front for prostitution - mostly because escort services often call themselves "outcall massage." By the way, this practice really pisses off the therapeutic community - but I digress...

Based on what was said and certain code words used, I'm guessing that Al wanted a full service massage, but ended up with a masseuse that only does hand release (like me). When she arrived in the room, apparently Al was all touchy feely - which pretty much indicated he wanted full service. She ended up giving him an "abdominal" massage, which is complete BS, since no one ever says "I've been overdoing it on my stomach crunches - so could you please work my abs? Thanks!"

Now what really clued me in is that during the massage she asked Al if there was "...any area on your body you want massaged..." That line right there is directly out of the speech we give here at The Business. Right before the happy ending, we give newbies the speech, "At this time please indicate any areas on your body that you wish to be massaged." This is the customers cue to point to his crotch. This way it's the customer soliciting us, and there's no miscommunication on what's about to happen next.

There is no need to use that line in a therapeutic massage since we traditionally just start at the shoulders and follow a routine. During the massage, I may ask how it feels and if there's a particular muscle group or spot that's sore, but that's about it. But you would never use those exact words unless you were prepared to wrap your hand around the customers prick.

Sounds like she was trying to focus the story on Al's insistence on full service, and not give away the fact that she gives handjobs. I can't blame her for that. I mean, I wouldn't want to tell the cops that I was in the middle of jerking off the former vice-president of the United States when he asked me to go down on him, and wouldn't take no for an answer. That's the big dilemma working in the sex industry - what protections do you have when you're in the middle of doing something not quite legal?

The 2nd big giveaway is that she charged $540 for a 90 minute session. NO outcall massage costs that much!! More like $140 for the massage and $400 for wearing a rubber nurses outfit while she straps a gag ball in Al's mouth and spanks his ass with a ping-pong paddle. When I read that I was like "Dang!!! I gotta go back to outcall 'cause that's Rent Money."

So that's my take on this whole scandal. Nothing more than a client disappointed for getting only a handjob. Now I've had customers disappointed that I don't do full service. But let me tell ya - they weren't complaining after one of my happy endings!

CJ

No Longer Calling Any Wives...

Wow - this topic took a turn I didn't expect.

What I was hoping would be a series of inspirational, heart-warming stories of husbands getting busted by their wives, turned very serious very quickly. Go check out the comments.


CJ

Calling All Wives!

I just got an interesting idea from one of the comments this week (see - I am reading them!)..... Are there any wives out there who either know or suspect their husbands of visiting massage parlors? I wanna hear from you!

So far my encounters with spouses have been over the phone ("who are you and what is this number for?"); at the front desk ("explain to me these charges on my husbands credit card"); and anonymous comments on local business reviews ("those girls are all dirty husband stealers!").

Well, there have been a couple of times I've seen wives on the arms of their husbands as we've passed each other in the aisles of the grocery store. The term "Deer in the headlights" doesn't begin to describe those guys expressions.

Anyway, I would actually like to hear from any spouses out there who are mad at their husbands or masseuses. Feel free to post your comments or send me an email.

In the meanwhile let me leave you with this story...

I once had this customer who actually got off on the thought of getting caught by his wife. We didn't do too many sessions (he must have actually gotten caught!) but the few we did were pretty memorable.

The first time I had "Phil" in session, he told me his little fantasy of having his wife catch him with another woman, so I arranged to have Trina barge into the room and yell something like "how could you do this to me!" then rush back out. It was corny as hell, but it worked. It put Phil in the mood for his happy ending almost immediately.

Another time was even stranger. As we approached the end of a normal session, he paused and asked if it was OK if he made a phone call. I told him his session was almost over, but he insisted I proceed while on the phone. Turns out he had called HIS WIFE. They chatted about mundane crap like whats for dinner; meanwhile he was signalling me to do the hand release. So I kept going and it didn't take long for him to cum quietly while still talking on the phone. As I was cleaning him up, he wrapped up the call. It was totally surreal.

There - that should get all you wives out there started!

CJ

UPDATE!!
It doesn't have to be just wives - any stories about getting caught are welcome. So all you guys out there that got busted (Al Gore... I'm looking at you) please send stories.

Comments at Last!!!

Hey guys! In case you haven't noticed I FINALLY got caught up on the last 3 weeks worth of comments and questions. Sorry about that, but I promise to try to keep up from now on. In fact, I may ask my techno-nerd to try that "comment review" thing so I'm forced to review all of them when they come in. Plus, she can weed out the weirdos and the Russian porno spam for me.

So what do you guys think? Do you really care if my techno-nerd reviews and edits the comments or not? I know that we get a lot of good questions that way, so I don't want to turn anybody off.

One last thing before I say goodbye for the weekend... Maude pretty much leaves us alone, but there's one thing she nags us about - our clothes.

I mean, between the heatwave and our naturally slutty fashion tastes, we would pretty much be coming to work naked if we could . Maude put her foot down yesterday when Cindy came in wearing a wifebeater and no bra. Even I had to agree with her on that one. That shit may be fine for meeting your parole officer, but keeping undercover cops out of our parking lot - that's another story.

One trick I've been getting away with at work is wearing a baggy hoody around The Business, but with only a bra (or nothing) underneath. That way I'm only a quick zip away from a topless option. What can I say, I'm all about work.

CJ

The Hangover

Hi guys. Sorry for not checking in yesterday but I'm still recovering from the weekend. Between the heat and the booze, I was a mess.

The Business was closed Sunday, so all of us were out partying our asses off. But boy did we pay for it the next day. I was working by myself (if you can ignore Maude - she's like wallpaper). Probably a good thing too because I spent the day working off my hangover. And the oven-baking heat wave didn't help things either.

Did you ever notice that when it's really hot outside, you really don't feel like doing anything inside either? Well it's especially true when you're hung-over. Luckily I only had 1 customer all day.

"Ed" is a Regular who I don't see very often, but he's been around for a few years now. He's one of my traveling salesmen customers. With those guys it's either feast or famine - they've got money to burn and I see them often or they're broke and they disappear for months on end. Well I guess Ed was finally making money again because he came in all happy and wanting "The Works." Well I told him that he could do whatever he wanted - as long as I didn't have to move.

Some guys aren't into roleplay, but a number of times now I've been asked to play "Drunk Girlfriend." I pretty much just have to lie there and let the guys dry hump me in various positions while I say things like "I am soooooooo drunk" and "Wheeeee!" I figured the game of "Hung-over CJ" wasn't much different.

Ed was eager to play but didn't know where to begin, so I suggested he start by massaging me. Was that selfish? - sure, but I don't think he minded. So I flipped over and he did a damn good job on my back (of course the way I was feeling, he could have walked on my back with golf shoes and I wouldn't have cared). But when he was finished, he skipped my legs completely and just focused on my ass.

I don't mind some good glute work every now and then, but he was pretty much just fondling and squeezing. I mean you would think he was trying to figure out if each cheek was ripe enough to pick the way he was working. First he'd rub one cheek, then the other. Then he'd give both a good squeeze. Finally he'd spread them both and just stare for a minute before starting all over again.

In "Drunk Girlfriend" it's common to do a butt release, so I offered that to Ed - partly because I'm all about making the customer happy, but mostly because I didn't feel like rolling over. He stammered a "yes" and then didn't really know what to do. I had to walk him through it because he was more of a standard roll-over-for-your-happy-ending kinda guy.

Ed climbed up on the table and I told him to take the oil bottle and get himself well lubed. Then for good measure I suggested he oil up my ass crack which made him really happy.

"Now what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Go to town," I said. "Just slide it between my cheeks and sort of dry hump me. And when you're ready to cum, just shoot it on my back."

So I put my head down and relaxed for a few minutes until he was done. Anyway, I relaxed as much as possible with a sweaty 200 pound guy on top of me rubbing against my ass. I was THAT hung-over.

I knew he was done when he gave out a few grunts, then stopped moving. I was praying that he's not a flopper when I started to feel him peel himself off of me. Between all the oil, the sweat and the semen, we were both a sticky mess. I ended up taking a shower afterwards and the cool water felt good and even woke me up a little. Ed left me a generous tip and promised not to be so scarce from now on. It was his first butt release and now I think he's hooked.

I spent the rest of the day parked in front of the AC vent and popping aspirin. Normally I would have caught up on the blog comments, but I was not in the mood. Sorry I've been so bad lately, but I promise to catch up and comment on the last 2 weeks worth.

CJ