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

Cumming to a Theater Near You...

This week, Audrey finally introduced her sister Maude to us. I'm not sure what was more shocking - the fact that this is the first time in months that we've actually seen Audrey at work, or that her sister looks absolutely nothing like here.

Let me put it to you this way... anyone wandering in off the street and seeing that sour puss at the front desk would not think for a second that we're a massage parlor. Putting Maude and handjobs in the same thought would leave your head spinning. In a way it's kinda good that we're relying on Regulars for business right now, because newbies would probably run for the hills.

Trina and I were trying to figure out who would play us in "Happyendingz - The Movie" when it occurred to us that Kathy Bates would be perfect to play Maude. Originally I wanted to be played by Lindsey Lohan, but now that she's a hot mess I think she would be a much better Cindy. Partly because they both have that devil-may-care attitude, but mostly because they both look hot wearing an alcohol bracelet.

Trina now wants to be played by Sarah Jessica Parker - probably because she just saw that Sex in the City movie. I argued that no one would want to look at her face while getting jerked off. I mean I guess you could try to cover her face with the semen, but that's just my opinion.

Meanwhile I have changed my mind as to who will play me. I want Anna Faris from the Scary Movie series. She would need implants to get the look down, but I think she would give me that girl-next-door vibe. And I think the movie should be more a sexy comedy instead of a serious drama. If you’re thinking it would make a great porno, it’s been done. Check out Jenna Jameson in ‘The Masseuse.’ That first scene pretty much sums it up what it’s like to be in The Business.

Now there was one actress that both Trina and I agreed on. Audrey would be played by Andy Dick in a wig.

Everyone have a good 4th of July weekend! We are closed and I'm getting my drink-on!!!!

CJ

Slutzilla

Well Maude starts this week. I haven't met this sister, but if she's nothing like her slutty baby sister, then we'll be just fine. To refresh your memories, Maude is coming in to basically replace Audrey in a sort of office manager/cleaning lady kinda way. AND she gets to keep her clothes on while doing it.

When I had the blowup with the boss a couple weeks ago, it was because she said the skank ho sister was coming in to run the place. That little whore worked here for a short time a few years ago. And when I say "short" I mean we had to go to Audrey and demand that she get rid of her immediately before The Business went down in flames. Let me explain...

Slutzilla (as we affectionately called her) got a job from Audrey as a huge favor. She was basically useless and had no job (like everyone else in that trailer park they call a family), so Audrey gave her one out of pity I guess. And let me tell you - we all learned how useless she was almost immediately. Sat around and did nothing all day but talk on her phone and wait for us to give her customers. And when she did get one, he pretty much complained later what an awful session he had.

Then it dawned on Slutzilla how to improve her customer service skills. She discovered that a really bad massage could easily be remedied with a quick blowjob. In fact, why waste time on a massage at all when you can just fuck the guy and pocket the tip in a fraction of the time?
I am not kidding you when I say that she became an overnight success. One day no one knew her name - the next day the phone was ringing off the hook for her. She was getting tons of really short (15-30 minute) appointments. We were all shocked at first, then quickly suspicious. All the signs were there of a full service traitor: the short sessions, the instant popularity, and the wave of newbies. There's a saying in our business - if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's probably a whore.

So I asked one of my Regulars to do some undercover detective work for me by taking a session with her and then reporting back. He confirmed all our suspicions - as soon as he was in the room, Slutzilla basically offered him the old suck-n-fuck.

[At this point in the story, you're probably wondering how I could force a loyal Regular of mine to go see if he could fuck my co-worker. I felt very guilty about making him take one for the team, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.]

We immediately went to Audrey and told her everything. At first she didn't believe us, but eventually she admitted that even some of her Regulars had mysteriously disappeared. Now that's saying a lot because her Regulars were already getting blowjobs, so I can only assume that Sluttzilla was either better at it, lower priced, or both.

Well Audrey confronted her little sister and pretty much fired her on the spot. Some of you are probably shaking your heads and wondering why we would get rid of a girl who was bringing in tons of new business by giving the customers what they want. Yes, she was bringing them in, but it was the wrong kind of customer and the wrong kind of business.

The "perfect" customer is a Regular that you know and trust to provide steady business. A flood of newbies makes you nervous because you have to wonder why there's suddenly so much interest. Have the cops noticed? Are local drug dealers trying to recruit since parlors are notorious for druggies? Are the other businesses in the building complaining to the landlord about the packed parking lot? And to make things worse, when a single girl goes full service - it takes away business from all the other girls. I think that was the biggest reason why Audrey fired her on the spot.

A true massage parlor has to walk a line between being legit and being a brothel. As long as we occupy that gray area in between we'll stay off everyone's radar screen. But considering that the number of raided parlors has now increased to SEVEN, the last thing we can afford right now is a girl that's just gonna cause trouble.

CJ

Freak of the Week - Erection Man

OK... all this talk about old dudes is getting me hot. Just kidding! But it did remind me of a guy who qualified for FOTW status. This was like 2 or 3 months ago, but I'm still laughing about it today. Mind you - I wasn't laughing when it happened.

I have this Regular that we'll call "Rod" (get it?). Rod's not a frequent regular, but he drops in every couple of months. He's about 50 and seems to be more or less a normal kind of guy. His sessions are typical (30 minute G-string), and he's never asked for any extras (breast release, doubles, etc). Just a regular kinda customer that you don't mind seeing.

Well he came in a couple months ago and I'll never forget - he was grinning from ear to ear. "Hey CJ, I got a surprise for you today."

"Is it pizza? I haven't had lunch yet."

"No... You'll see!"

Well I get Rod in the room, and he practically tears his clothes off. Before I can even ask him if he wants the usual, he proudly announces "Ta da! Well, what do you think?"

Standing before me is a naked 50 year old man. So between the beer belly, the balding head, and the excess body hair, I'm not sure where to start. However, being a master of polite conversation (a necessary skill in this business) I come up with "Wow - you lost weight!"

This caught him a little off guard. Probably because it wasn't what he expected, but a compliment just the same. "Uhhh... Yeah. But no," he says while pointing between his legs, "I mean this!"

Look, I see hard-ons all day long. It's part of my job description, so seeing a guy with one doesn't even register with me anymore. "Hey that's great... so you're ready to go then? On the table Rod, let's go."

Since I'm just not getting it, he starts to point frantically at his dick. "CJ..." he lowers his voice to a whisper "... it's Viagra."

"OH. Okaaaaaaay." This really did surprise me since I don't remember Rod having any problems before. But now I don't know what to do with it. I mean I KNOW what to do with it, but I usually save that for the end. I really don't have any use for it right now. But I guess it's the thought that counts, right?

Now if there's one thing I've learned about customer service over the years, it's that guys love to have their stuff admired. So I have a whole laundry list of generic compliments that I use to brighten up a guys day:

It's so big!
I'll need both hands for this one
Wow you're hard
You have a great looking dick
It feels so good in my hands
I'm gonna have to charge you extra

... and for guys with small dicks...
It's perfect for anal

So for all you guys out there who've heard these lines before - I'm sorry.

Anyway, I told Rod that the Viagra is obviously working (what else could I say?) and to get his raging manliness on the table. And that's when the problems started. Turns out his erection made it uncomfortable for him to lie on his stomach.

Oh he thought it was kinda funny at first, but after a few minutes he started squirming. He tried raising his hips a little, but then that became uncomfortable too. So eventually I wrapped up the back and legs quickly just to get him flipped over.

And there it was in all it's glory - Rods rod standing at full attention. Since I had time to kill before the happy ending, I paid extra attention to his chest and legs. I think even Rod started to see that his pharmaceutical enhancement was overkill. Well what did he expect? Viagra's made for fucking - not a 2 minute hand release.

Finally we came to the moment of truth - the moment that Rod had been preparing for all day. The moment someone would finally get to his artificially induced hard-on and give it a test spin. Well I have to admit that it was pretty damn hard. Could I tell it wasn't natural? Not really. The only odd thing was that it had lost some sensitivity - but that was probably because it had been rubbing against the massage table earlier.

I started to work him, and Rod admitted that it felt a little funny and asked for me to go easy. I used a lot of lube and kept the pressure low. He lasted a full 5 minutes before he finally came. If there's 1 thing Viagra doesn't do, it's make your load bigger because he only dribbled a little bit.

Looking back I suspect that Rod had already taken his woody for a test spin before he came to session. That would explain why he was hard the entire time, was overly sensitive, and shot a small load. Hopefully he'll leave the pills at home next time - you won't need them with CJ on the job.

CJ

Happy Fathers Day!

Hey guys, I have a quick update for you that I didn't know whether to call a Freak of the Week, or not. I'll let you decide.

As you know, we are under DefCon 11, or whatever the highest one is. Someone told me it's 1, but that just doesn't seem to capture the paranoia we're all feeling here at The Business. Another Asian Massage Parlor (AMP) got busted 2 weeks ago. Good news and bad news as far as I'm concerned, but still bad enough to keep us on our guard.

So under DefCon 11, all new customers are therapeutic massages only. Well, a Regular of mine asked me for a special favor last week. He wanted to get his dad a "genuine happy ending massage" for Fathers Day. In other words, he's giving his dad a handjob. Technically speaking. At least it makes me and the other girls snicker when we say it that way.

How could I say no? I mean under the conditions it's OK. So do you guys out there consider the son as a candidate for FOTW or the coolest son ever? If anything, it just shows they're a VERY close family.

So the guy bought him a gift certificate (yes - we have gift certificates and you'd be surprised how many we actually sell in a month) for enough to guarantee I'd show him a "good time." But not too good because he's over 70 and hasn't been with a woman since the mom died a number of years ago.

"Mort" as I'll call him since that's a real Dad kinda name, stopped by Monday night. I guess that gift certificate was burning a hole in his pocket.

I wonder what the card said?

Anyway, Mort was easily 75. Moved slowly and was quietly spoken. Sweet old guy and not the dirty old man type. Mort came in and asked for me before handing over the certificate.

"My boy said you were the best and you'd make me feel like a million bucks."

Ya ever notice how nicely seniors talk? I mean that was probably the sweetest thing anyone has said to me all week.

I asked him if he's ever had an erotic massage before and he said no. So I gave him rather explicit instructions for a newbie since I assumed his son filled him in on the REAL gift - "assume" being the operative word here.

"Uhhhhhh... I don't know really. He just said you'd 'take care' of me. Wink wink." Then he grinned, showing me his beautiful dentures.

"OK, Mort. Just lie back and relax. I'm gonna take care of you." I turned the lights down and moved close to the table to make sure he would get a good look at me undressing. His son wanted "the works" so I wasn't going to skimp any. I figured they'd compare notes later, so I better make this memorable.

Mort said "Ohhhhhh... You are beautiful" in a way that hinted he knew what was coming. I was just hoping he didn't have to strain his eyes too much under that dim lighting. I had him roll on his stomach and I proceeded to do a thorough job of his back and legs. With older customers, you really have to be careful around their back and joints. The massage uses a more gentle technique that focuses on caressing and not deep pressure. You also need massage oils that won't irritate delicate skin.

Well, Mort was loving all of it. He really didn't say much during the massage, but he made lots of happy noises. When I finally told him to flip over, he almost sounded sorry. I assured him that the best part was yet to come (no pun intended). But then he made a little joke about how I did such a good job that he should return the favor. So I told him "OK."

I swear to you, I think he had a tiny stroke when I said that because his mouth just kinda froze in place and he stammered a few times. I told him It's OK and that it's all about him on Fathers Day. So we switched places and I let Mort massage my back and legs. Let me tell ya - Mort was so cute. He actually wrapped a towel around his waist so I wouldn't be "blinded" by his butt.

Mort was sooooooooo gentle. I could tell he really was nervous and obviously hadn't touched a woman in a while. It was almost like he thought I would break. I had to tell him a couple times that it was OK to use more pressure, especially in my shoulders. I got bored quickly when he worked on my legs so I let him go a few minutes and made a few "mmmmm" noises to make him think he was doing a good job.

Then I rolled on to my back.

Mort just kinda stared at me and The Girls for a few moments. Then at The Girls for a bit. Then back to me as if asking "now what do I do?" Heck - he was so gentle with my back I figured he'd be safe to trust with The Girls.

Boy was I right.

I gave him the OK to massage The Girls and you'd think he was a kid in a candy store. He oiled them up nicely and did a series of gentle circular motions around them - starting around my armpits, moving underneath them, then slowly up the middle of my chest and ending just above the pecs. It was HEAVEN.

During most mutuals, guys just want to grab and pinch - that's why I don't like offering them anymore. It's only once in a blue moon you find a guy who actually knows his way around breasts. Mort was that guy.

I let Mort go to town for a while since we were both enjoying it. It's times like that when I can't believe I get paid to do this. After a long while of being totally selfish, I finally (and reluctantly) told Mort it was time for his happy ending.

I got him back on the massage table and proceeded with the hand release. Mort had some difficulty getting excited and he wasn't quite fully erect when he came. At least he was able to finish though - I've had some old timers who take forever.

And that is my story of what may be the oddest Fathers Day gift ever. Sure beats a tie and bad cologne.

CJ

Tales of an Ugly Stepsister

OK - I'm back. Things have finally settled down, but OH THE DRAMA. I guess Audrey and I needed to have it out. We may have had a few disagreements in the past ("You stole my customer!", "I need you to work Saturday," "Why is my keyboard sticky?" etc.) but we do agree on one thing - the Business could use some extra help.

Now I'm not talking about another masseuse. I'm talking about someone to take care of all the non-handjob related stuff around here (this business ain't all glamour ya know).

So this is where another member of the Audrey Clan comes in. This time it's the older sister (and in this story I'm Cinderalla of course). Turns out that Audrey is the only "success" story in that family - being a genuine business owner and all. There are other bizarre members of Audrey's family I could talk about, but that's one trailer park I don't want to empty out just yet.

I'll affectionately refer to my new co-worker as "Maude." And I say co-worker, because technically she won't be telling us how to do our jobs. I'll still be in charge of schedule, but Maude will be a sort of Office Manager I suppose. She'll answer the phones, schedule appointments, order supplies, and clean the place. I think Audrey's doing it this way just to give Maude a source of income.

And don't worry - there's no secret plan for her to start stealing our customers. If you saw her you'd know why. She's around 50, short and very heavy set. The word "plumb" comes to mind when describing her. You wouldn't want to see her topless, let alone handling your junk.

She's supposed to start in a couple of weeks. I guess she's waiting to put the wheels on her place and get it towed over to this side of the Poconos. I'm not holding my breath over it since she may be a fuck up just like everyone else in that family.

Now thinking back to when Audrey and I had our fight, she did say that she was going to put her little sister in charge. Turns out she meant it only as a threat. Even Audrey's not that stupid. But I can talk more about that train wreck later.

And in case you were wondering, during my week off, I actually did 2 nights in my new gig as a bartender. Let me tell ya - that work is HARD. You bust your ass, break a sweat, stain your clothes and come home smelling like beer. But I have to admit that it was kinda fun flirting with customers and cracking jokes and stuff.

I had a couple of drunken college boys daring me to "... show us your tits!" I looked them right in the eye and said "Sure. $80." I think my dead serious tone of voice shut them up. The funny thing is that I wanted to add "... G-string is $120 and nude is $150."

If they only knew.

CJ

I'm back

And I haven't quit (yet). The short story is that I finally got around to talking to Audrey and we came to an "arrangement." We both agreed that The Business needs some real management, but her slutty baby sister is not what we would call management material. So Audrey's older sister is coming in to manage us. She won't do any massage - just answer the phones, order toilet paper, and keep the place clean.

Long story to follow...

CJ

That motherfucking bitch audrey. I've had it up to here with her shit. After we argued about me closing the business for memorial day, she calls me up tonight and tells me that she's making her little skank sister the new manager. Well fuck her. Fuck that slut sister. And fuck the business.

Memorial Day and Dicks - 2 Great Things That Do Not Go Great Together

I had another knock-down, drag-out fight with Audrey over the weekend. We were catching up on how things are going at The Business when she asked who was working Memorial Day. When I told her no one is working, she blew up on me.

If Thanksgiving is the Mother of all massage weekends, then Memorial Day is the red-headed bastard stepchild. Unlike Thanksgiving, there are no herds of single guys driving 6 hours cross country to get to Grandma's house for dinner. Instead, carloads of families are driving 1 hour to get to Aunties house for BBQ. So it's absolutely dead here. Why would I make anyone stay?

But Audrey would always insist on working this weekend - and dragging one of us along with her for what turns into an exercise in humiliation. You see, the only customers who bother to show up at times like this are Audrey's Regulars. So we'll sit there all day watching Audrey take every customer who walks through that door. Once you've heard "oh he's one of mine" for the 6th time in a row, you're ready to scream.

Now that Audrey's Regulars have either settled on one of us, or left all together, there are few surprise walk-ins left. And that's why I decided to close The Business on Monday. But Queen Bitch didn't agree, so she yelled at me until I suggested that there's nothing preventing her lazy ass from coming in here and working that day. She DID NOT find that amusing and promptly hung up on me.

Bitch.

Since that story was kind of a bummer, I thought I'd leave you with this one instead. In response to one your intelligent and thought provoking questions from last week, I will describe the weirdest penises I've ever seen.

Big Balls
The one that I will never forget was actually perfectly normal in appearance. It was his balls that were shocking. I swear to Gawd they were the size of grapefruits. EACH ONE. The guy must have been 300 pounds, so you couldn't tell he was packing those melons just by looking at him. But when he got up on that table, my jaw just dropped open. His dick looked like a twig sticking out of a pumpkin patch!

The Puffy Dick,
Probably the most bizarre dick I've ever seen was uncircumcised. It wasn't the foreskin that was weird, it was all of the skin - puffy and swollen looking. Made his dick look like a raw Italian sausage that had been left out in the sun for a week. Turns out he wasn't diseased or anything, it was just the way his dick has always looked - discolored in a really disgusting unfortunate kinda way. Definitely the kinda guy you need to fuck in the dark.

Mr. Perfect
And lastly, I have to tell you about the most memorable cock I've ever had the pleasure to meet. This guy had the absolutely most beautiful dick I've ever seen.

It was BIG - but not in the "you're gonna stick that WHERE?" kinda way. The length to girth ratio was so perfect that if he were my boyfriend I would have run out of the room and started high-fiving total strangers while yelling "cha-ching!" The shaft was perfectly smooth with no weird veins popping out - perfect for stroking. And the head was nicely rounded with that extra bit of width that makes the initial insertion unbearably intense yet oh-so-nice.

I'm getting chills just thinking about him.

Now what made him so memorable (and freaky) was the fact that this most perfect of penises was attached to a 70 year old man. I found myself both repulsed and intrigued at the same time. I guess the best way I could describe this feeling to my male readers out there would be to imagine a 70 year old woman with a fantastic boob job.

And with that image in your heads for the weekend, I will bid you......... toodles.

CJ

Freak of the Week - The Wife

I was inspired last week by the Q&A to tell some jealous wife stories. It's never fun to have to deal with them. Luckily, most of my encounters are over the phone, but occasionally one will actually come in to see for herself what her husband is spending all his money on.

It usually happens after the wife gets hold of the credit card statement because we do not issue receipts unless requested (business guys do this when they can expense us as "client entertainment"). The inevitable phone call usually goes something like this:

Me: "Thank you for calling The Business. How can I help you?"
Angry Wife: "What kind of place is this?!"
Me: "This is a day spa ma'am. We offer tanning services and therapeutic massage therapy."

I've gotten this kind of call often enough that I know when it's time to switch to Legit Mode. This little script of mine usually throws them off for 3 reasons:

1) They were really expecting me to say "Haroooow. Bang-COCK spa. We wuv yoo long time."
2) They can't picture their spouse needing a tan or a massage.
3) They are turned on by the idea of a tan and massage, and secretly hope their husband was buying them a gift certificate (or several gift certificates over the span of 4 weeks according to the credit card statement).

So if I haven't thrown them off their husbands scent already, they'll continue the interrogation. "So what on Earth costs "$200 there?!"

I want to say "Me naked on the table with my tits wrapped around your husbands cock" but instead I usually say "The 90 minute get-away tan and relaxation package." Then I pray that the poor sap of a husband is smart enough go with this and make it sound believable. More than once I've been able to parlay this into an emergency gift certificate - basically doubling the cost of the original handjob under investigation.

Then there are the women who actually come find us. I've been fortunate enough to convince most of them that we're legit. Whenever I've had an obviously angry wife standing at the counter, I've just put on my business face and given them the quick tour like she's a new customer to prove we have a real tanning bed and massage tables.

For most of these women, the only concept they have of a "massage parlor" they probably got from bad late-night Cinemax movies. So they're expecting to see stained mattresses, red lights, bead curtains, and a hostess in sleazy lingerie. They are not expecting aromatherapy candles, Enya music, a complete line of tanning products for sale, and me in my polo shirt and khaki's.

I've only had 1 really angry wife who didn't believe a word I said and demanded to see our logbooks. I told her that's private customer business and I can't do that, etc. Eventually she left, but I think there was going to be one unhappy husband that night.

Now Audrey's the one who got it bad one day. She once got a wife that basically knew what her husband was up to and wanted to find the "whore" he was doing it with. At this point whenever I get an angry phone caller looking for "That Whore" I usually just forward her to Audrey.

This woman was out of control. She was screaming and yelling and threatening to sue us and call the police. Eventually, we were able to get her out the door. Then as a final bit of revenge on Audrey, she started to key what she presumed was Audrey's car out in the parking lot.

She presumed wrong.

Luckily it wasn't mine either! In fact, I'm not sure we ever figured out who's car it was.

And that's it for wife stories. Now I know what the first question will be, so I will save you the time and answer it right now.

Yes - I have had a customer's wife as a customer. After a guy does a really convincing song and dance to his wife about how badly he needed "therapy" for his back after lifting that box at work, the wife sometimes gets intrigued enough to check us out for herself. Of course the guy is usually shitting a brick when I'm taking care of his wife, but I'm 100% business when I need to be.

And when she comes home in a good mood after her massage, the husband realizes he has a free pass to come back whenever he wants. It's a win-win for everyone!

CJ