Hello dear readers. Here is another in my series, Massage Parlor Years. I must warn the person who is stalking me, writing multiple nasty comments on my stories; on the advice of another author who writes in the BTB genre and wants there to be sanity and peace in LW, I have turned off feedback on my previous stories and will religiously delete all anonymous comments from now on. I also won't write nasty comments on BTB stories. So, the one person who posts all these anonymous comments, post as yourself if you want your insults to stick. Man up! For those of you Constant Readers who want some background, please read Parts 1 and 2 of this series. There will be sex in this story, as advertised in the tags.
Regarding part 2, it's true up to the point where I went to Sharon's house with her and hit her husband in the kneecap with his own driver club. Never happened. She sorted her own problems out with her husband. They got an angrily contested divorce with two lawyers involved. Guys who write stories saying otherwise should know, women always get the best out of a divorce settlement, even if they did cheat on their husband. This was particularly true in Texas in those days.
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The massage parlor hired a receptionist named Paula. She was very attractive, sexy, and had a sparkling personality. She liked to hang out at the massage parlor but didn't want to give strange men massages herself. So she took the job as receptionist and resigned herself to much lower income.
It was good to have a receptionist because, before Paula, there always had to be at least one girl in the lobby to greet customers as they came in. Then they had to wait until one of the other girls was finished. The rule was customers always had their pick so without a receptionist a girl could get stuck in the lobby for a long time. A pity because we always had three or four customers waiting.
I was increasingly tempted to charge money for blowjobs if the guys asked. My friends Lorraine and Sharon both did this and so did Sharon's friend Carolyn. They were all making a lot more money than me. I mostly only gave hand jobs, aka a "total body massage" for a small amount extra and if I did more it was with a nice, good looking guy, free and just for fun.
Someone once asked me if it was really true that good looking guys would ever come into a massage parlor. Yes of course it's true. A lot of men don't want the fuss of wining and dining a woman, or the obligation to call her the next day, or, God forbid, a relationship. A massage, even with a hand job, costs less than a movie and dinner at an upscale romantic restaurant, so why wouldn't good looking guys sometimes want to be pleasured the easy way, all for them with no demands? I gave a massage to a good looking guy on average 2.5 times a week.
Sometimes I would get an uptight, fundamentalist, religious fanatic as a customer and he would right away start lecturing me about my evil whorish ways as I massaged him. I kept my mouth shut and took his money but he certainly didn't get any extras. One of them said to me as he left, "The Lord abhors prostitutes. Repent and be saved!" I smiled and said, "Have a nice day."
I had some weird propositions from clients too.
One guy said he was a photographer for major lingerie companies and wanted me to be one of his models. He was going to pay me $250 an hour. He said it was just going to be photographs wearing skimpy underwear but he was a kinda creepy, old, balding, fat dude so I was suspicious. I asked him if my husband could accompany me and watch. The guy said no that wouldn't work for him so I declined.
Another guy wanted to star me in a soft porn movie. He said there would be one other actor, a black male, and the sex would not be real, only simulated. He said he would pay $1,000 for a one night video shoot. This was also very suspicious sounding. I declined politely with no questions asked. John was disappointed. He thought that it would be hot. I told him sorry, I had my limits.
One evening Paula told us her birthday was the coming Sunday and she was going to throw herself a party at her house. We were all invited and told to bring guests if we wanted. I told her I would be happy to come and would bring my husband, John.
John and I brought two bottles of wine and a string bikini of the type that fits most sizes because the ties can be adjusted. The party had started at 9:00 but we didn't arrive until 10:15.
I had brought a change of clothes with me and quickly changed into my party outfit at the massage parlor before going over to Paula's house. My outfit was a crocheted bikini top, not meant to be worn in the water, showing more skin through the peek-a-boo holes than it covered. Below the waist I wore a bright orange thong with transparent harem pants on top. At 5' 10" I don't like to wear high heels so I wore strappy sandals. John said I looked "smoking hot."
There was loud rock on Paula's stereo, a mix of metal albums and oldies from the early 70s. Music my Dad used to like.
Paula met us at the door. She was wearing an ultra short skirt, barely covering her crotch, with a totally see-thru blouse for a top. I told her she looked very pretty. John said, "Nice tits, Paula."
She giggled and said, "Thank you and thanks for the wine and the present. Come in, I have presents for you both too."
We followed her inside. She went to her purse and shook something out of a little bottle. "Hold out your hands."
We did, and she placed a tiny pill in each of our hands. "Eat these."
