{This tale is from way back, I guess I was about 32, maybe 33 at the time. I decided to study massage therapy, to this day I still love doing that for people, as I am sure some have figured out from my other tales.
Part of it I am sure is my very strong voyeuristic streak, the other thing is that I just love making others feel good. Plus to me, having a woman on a table, completely naked except for a thin sheet, is special. I got to look at them, touch them, and quite a few let me play with their breasts, (all perfectly therapeutic, of course) and quite a few I got to masturbate all the way to a climax.
Now I COULD have had full sex with quite a few of them, I just didn't.
That is just me, touching was and is still a fetish of mine.
(Yes, I know that many of my friends think I have a couple of screws loose, they would be correct.)
If it were possible in those days to earn a living doing massage full time, my life would be completely different. But of course, being male, and even being a cute male if I must say so myself, it just was not in the cards. Let's face it, how many females would go to a male therapist to get their bodies rubbed? As it turned out, not that many, but they do exist. The ads we see about working on the cruise ships, or working when you want to as the money rolls in are mostly fantasy. It is NOT "work when you want to" as the ads for the colleges suggest, it is work when you CAN.
So, I free lanced, at times doing as many as 3 or 4 sessions a week, other weeks, none at all. It could be at 10 in the morning, and more than once I was called to a hotel room after midnight, with my record being one client I took on at 3 AM..
There was one client that sticks with me to this day. Some will say I am crazy here, too, again probably at least partially correct. But I loved working on Nina Marie.}
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I got back to my apartment from my day at work, picked up the phone and called my message service. In those days, we paid a company to take messages, then dialed in to retrieve them.
Yes, I really am that old now.
I was pleased when I heard a woman's voice asked about my ad for massage services, at the time I was doing a few rare sessions to make a few extra dollars. Most of my calls were from men, and I just had no interest.
I was already well aware that I was never going to earn any real living doing massages, so I had decided to just have fun with it. At my real job I was making $2.80 per hour, that sounds bad but it was actually good in the days when gas was under $0.50 a gallon and hash browns, eggs and toast with four strips of bacon was under a buck anywhere, with just a dime, sometimes two of them for a tip.
Charging $12.00 to do an hour long massage was pretty good bucks.
I only worked with women, since I am straight to the point of being silly about it. Way back in class I did not think working on men would be any problem, but there was this one guy in our class, and he liked me. So help me, somehow I managed to draw his name as my practice partner about 70% of the time. He was clearly into men, and by the time our class was over I was fed up with the idea.
Just homophobic, way I am and nothing I can do about that. I don't mind getting a grip on my own, mind you, but keep yours away from me and out of sight.
I did manage to get a few practice sessions with the women in the class, I say "women" and not girls because the youngest one was at least a dozen years older than me.
Still, I did get to see lots of tits and even some female vaginas. The housewife types that were taking those classes never shaved anything back then so all of them had pubic hair except for one named Virginia. She was about 50 or so, married to some guy I never met, and there was nothing bashful about her at all!
We all got used to being nude or partially nude by about the 4th week of class, I will be honest, I liked that part. Some of the housewife types still remained a bit coy but by the end of the year I had seen everything they had, all of them.
I still find it interesting, here was me, a young male, my hands all over their bodies, and they all accepted and allowed that as perfectly normal, even though most of them had a husband at home. We were supposed to drape the breasts but the profession was far less prudish back then, so most of the time those were bare and got rubbed out also. The instructor we had was named Ginger, and the truth is, she didn't care one way or the other, a few times she was on one of the tables and got her tits rubbed too. She was interesting because at the start of classes we all got the "talk" which was basically that no messing around was allowed and we were supposed to be professionals, etc.
Ginger on the table was a kick, it was start out rubbing her back and shoulders, then her legs and butt, get up to the back of her legs and they got spread wider and wider until from the foot of the table there would be the whole hairy thing in plain sight. I could even run my hands way up there and nudge her a little bit when she was on her tummy and she would not say anything. But if she was on her back, for some reason she went kind of coy and kept things covered up. I even tested how far I dared go a few times and got griped at only rarely.
But by then, me and the gay guy, the other ladies, were all just part of the class, and no big deal if we saw any nudity.
The other interesting part was when they were practicing on me, one would think they would be real careful but in short order I understood that women enjoy looking at a man's stuff every bit as much as the guys like checking out the females. Plus, they will from time to time cop an "accidental" feel, like when the instructor is looking the other way.
Yes, massage class was a real kick in the pants, lots of stuff went on. Virginia was the naughtiest by far, drawing her for my practice partner was fun because she took every opportunity to rub my dick and balls that she could. She got a kick out of trying to get me fussed up and she did manage that many times. Of course, we all did the same right back to her when things were reversed, all except for the gay guy, that is. Yes, even some of the other women went out of their way to peek and touch, which I noticed and pretended not to.
But finally, class was over, I took my tests and passed with flying colors. By then I had a portable table, a big bottle of denatured Almond oil in my fridge, a shoulder pack for my sheets and towels, I was in business, ready to go.
I rented the phone message service, ran some ads in the area advertisers, sat back and waited for the jobs (and cash) to roll in.
Nothing happened. A couple of weeks went by, still nothing.
Finally I applied for and got a part time job working at a Chiropractor's office, since I worked swing shift at my warehouse job I had the 10 to 2 PM hours free. That was shoulders and arms and sometimes the back type work, boring as hell but it was 40% commission. There I did work with men clients, no troubles at all with any of them.
Then one day this woman came in with a complaint of pelvic pain. In class, they taught us exactly nothing about how to help anyone with pelvic pain. I mean, it did not even get mentioned. Today of course, we can visit YouTube and find out how to do anything, back then it was pictures in a book, IF we could even find one.
But I had a pretty good idea of what was involved, so when Doctor Clemmings, the Chiropractor asked me about it, I started to tell him the truth but changed my mind and lied though my teeth.
"Oh, you mean Inguinal techniques? Sure, we trained in that." I told him with a perfectly straight face. He seemed satisfied and sent her in for a full half hour of what was basically a pussy massage, complete with internal techniques.
The lady was a little bit pudgy, she was lying back with her legs spread and a sheet over her when I stepped in. I sat on a roller stool, slid up to her and pushed the drape back, slightly, careful to not expose her completely. As I worked up her legs, I was not quite sure of myself but she just reached down and pulled the drape up to her navel, and there it was.
By then I had been with a few girlfriends, so I had a pretty good idea of what to look for. Hers was very hairy, hanging open and all wet looking. I went to work as she wiggled and squirmed, in just a few minutes I understood perfectly that this gal was enjoying the hell out of my efforts. If there really was any pain involved, I sure as hell wasn't finding any. That lump of flesh at the top of her snatch swelled up to the size of the end of my finger and sort of stuck out. There I sat, rubbing away, one finger inside of her quite a bit, when that thing clamped down and dang near took my finger off. My instinct was to lean forward and lick her but I barely managed to control myself and didn't. Thinking back on it, I am fairly sure that would have been just fine.
When she sat up, with just the towel over her lap with her bare tits just hanging there, she glanced down at the obvious boner in my pants and grinned. That was one nasty lady, let me tell you.
"That really helped, honey! See you in a couple of weeks." I got up and left the room, hell, I had to go in and use the john to jack off. Damn that was hot. It was way later before I realized that Doctor Clemmings knew all about that stuff but didn't want to risk his license doing it himself, so I got the job. But there was only a couple of his clients that got nasty, with this one lady being by far the most blatant about it.
During the next session with her, I mentioned my massage service (I still hadn't gotten a client yet but I didn't tell her that.) and gave her my number. Just two days later my service had a message, I expected it to be her but it wasn't, it was a friend of hers.