I always loved getting massages, and every chance I got I went for one. I read the ads online, looked in the little flyers they hand out at the mini-marts, always looking for someone new.
Perhaps that special masseuse, that was just a bit more willing than most of them?
If one showed a bit of promise, some potential, I left a $20 bill folded up on the table when I came out of the room, then I paid their bill and left.
Without fail that got me a bit of extra time during the next session at the very least, sometimes it got me a bit of added touch. The ones that skipped working out my glutes, or bypassed the nice clockwise circles on my abdomen often added that.
The ones that never changed one bit, I just didn't bother to call again.
Perhaps one out of every 10 to 15 that I saw would finally get to trust me, then begin to want to pay me back for the nice extra cash right along. Sure, I could just part with a couple hundred bucks right off the bat, that got me the sure thing.
The sure thing just wasn't fun to me, I liked manipulating the ones that were positive that they never would ever reach out and grab my cock and go to work on it. There was something about the amateurish attempts, the final breaking down and actually DOING it that just got me going.
OK. So I am a pervert, a manipulator, call me what you will.
Getting the straight laced ones to that point just yanks my chain, I would get massive orgasms at the part fantasy fulfillment, part sexual release situation.
I can't explain that any other way except I like to manipulate people. The look, the expression they got was just wonderful. I will bet that no less than two dozens times I have heard my masseuse at the moment say, "I never did that before!" with an actual blush on their face.
They realized that they had given in, actually broken down and jacked off a client. After that, I would get jacked off by them every single time, by every one I did succeed with, except for one.
That one was a pretty gal named Patti. It took me over a year, at least 20 sessions, her hands got closer and closer, I could see the internal struggle. Then one day she lost control, I had a massive erection and she could tell from the bulge in the sheet. Her hands went up my thighs, I felt her hesitate.
"I am sorry, you look to be...uncomfortable?" She whispered, her hand still resting high on my thigh.
"I...Yes, it is, I am..a little bit. It's just that...your hands feel so wonderful, I am sorry, I don't want to offend you." I told her.
"You aren't offending me, it's perfectly normal." She smiled, spouting the standard massage therapist line, but then her hand slid up over my balls, and down the length of my rigid cock.
It was like she went into some kind of a daze, her hands moving with a mind of their own.
"I want to make you feel good, is..this all right?" Patti whispered again, as her hand wrapped around the head of my burgeoning erection.
"Oh yes, thank you! I trust you completely!" I answered, with a smile.
A few minutes later the sheet was gone, and Patti was eagerly beating my meat. She even let out a little moan when I spasmed, success!
One more score.
The next session, she went right back to normal, she apologized for taking advantage of me and said she hoped I wasn't upset?
I thought she was fucking kidding me.
"I didn't mind at all, Patti. I actually enjoyed that, you can do that any time if you like."
Patti sniffed and told me she just couldn't, it was against the law and her principles as a "professional". After that her sessions were even more conservative than normal.
"What the hell?" I wondered. She had once had my cock in her hands, eyes glazed, she damn near orgasmed from whacking me off, now she turns into a Nun on me?
I was a bit surprised at that, but after another half dozen sessions and she was still refusing to touch me in any intimate manner at all I got the picture and moved on to another therapist.
I am a man that thinks he understands women, but I realize I probably never really will.
Oh, well. But Patti did give me an idea. Since I liked messing around with women, why not become a massage therapist myself?
I saw one of those ads on TV for a local college, thinking I could get a few lessons, hang out a shingle and have half naked women on my table at will.
"$14,000.00 for the program, and that includes all the way to the licensing process." The clerk that answered the phone told me.
What? Fourteen grand to get taught to rub someone's ass? Were they out of their rabbit ass minds?
Fuck that.
I went and bought a table, found a place that sold Almond oil. Then I bought some sheets, sewed them up myself since I didn't want my wife to know what I was up to.
I know, I didn't mention the wife, her name is Karen. She is a bit on the chubby side redhead and she has no sense of humor at all when it comes to me messing around with other females.
Well, I don't think so anyway, I never told her anything and she never caught me either.
But my job takes me everywhere and at odd hours, so she is used to me taking off for several hours on a moment's notice.
Our sex life is OK, Karen never says no but lots of times I can tell she isn't into it. Sex as a duty isn't much fun. I do talk her into whacking me off once in awhile, she is actually pretty good at that. I even can get her to go out with no bra on sometimes, that is fun. I like the clingy type tops that let Karen's big titties roll back and forth when she walks, that is fun and it seems to get her going. When we get home after a night out like that she usually climbs right on top of me.
Still, It's just not as much fun as that first time with someone who says they won't and never will, but then they do.
Yea, I know. I am a pervert, an asshole. So what? No harm done, and besides, getting whacked off isn't sex anyway. Then since women are so easy to manipulate, keep under control, I was pretty sure Karen would never catch on to any of my...activities.
Anyway, I ran some ads, explaining that I was semi-retired from the "massage profession" but I wanted to stay in "practice." So I wasn't charging a fee, that got around the law nicely. To make the ad ring true I mentioned I only had time for one client each week.
150 phone calls later I changed the ad to read "Ladies or ladies in a couples scenario only". That reduced the calls from guys wanting ME to whack THEM off by about half.
Men! They are all a bunch of assholes. No way in hell was I going to yank some jerk's dick, hell, I didn't even like having to do my own.
I was about to give up, go back to hunting for a new masseuse, when the message system I had hired so that Karen wouldn't find out said I had two more messages.
One was another guy looking for a hand job, I deleted that. The next one was a sultry female voice that asked about my work and style, and left a number so I called her back.
"Hi, there! I was interested in your service." She said. The voice sounded mildly familiar to me.
After a short conversation, she booked me for that same evening. I was doing handsprings the rest of the day, I was going to have a female, on my table, naked!
I even whacked off to take the edge off, I didn't want to be waving a boner at whoever it was right out of the gate. Besides, I had no plans at all to actually hose anybody, sure as hell I would catch something I can't pronounce. All I wanted was to rub a nice female body, look at some bare titties and pussy.
Just fun, no sex involved. Our President said so.
Oh, sure, I could maybe use a rubber but for some reason whenever I try to put one of those things on my dick goes down and stays there. The one time way back that I did manage to get a rubber on, I got to go fishing for the thing. Ever try to get one of those things back out of there after you have packed it nicely into place and then slicked it up real good?
Not fun at all. Well, it was kinda fun, but still.
I was wondering what my first client would be like, would she want to be naked or under the sheet? Would I get to massage her titties, maybe even do a little bit of sex play? All of that was running through my head as I loaded up my table at the storage unit I had rented.
I did that so that Karen wouldn't find out, after all, I did mention that she was a redhead?
With a temper to match?
I drove over to the address the woman had given me. As I popped the hatch on the back of my Monte Carlo it hit me that I hadn't asked for her name. That was clever of me, but what the hell.
I rang the doorbell, heard some sounds from inside. The door opened and there stood....Patti.
"Danny? What are you doing here?"
"I...uhh..I..you called my message..about the..massage?"
Oh, shit! I was thinking of just cutting and running.
"I didn't know you worked doing massages, that's funny! Well, come on in!" She stood aside to let me in.
I dragged my table inside, looked around. I had always seen Patti at her office downtown, it was upstairs above a hair salon. I used to joke with her about "running the gauntlet" of the little old ladies with their heads stuffed in hair dryers. They without fail always gave me sidelong glances, sometimes with a sniff knowing I was going upstairs to get a massage.
I knew what was in their minds, they were a bunch of old prudes thinking that something would be going on up there for sure.
"You can set up here in the living room if you like. This is neat, you should have told me that you worked too, we could have maybe..traded?" She said with a sweet smile.
I began to unfold the table, managing to get one of the cables under the table leg as I opened it. It took me several tries before I finally got it set up, Patti watched me with amusement.
"I haven't seen you for awhile." She said. I knew that was a question.
"I have been busy, I am getting lots of clients." I answered, lying through my teeth.
"I see. You mentioned you were just wanting to stay in practice?"