====================
When Trevor starts his career as a massage therapist at the fancy country club his family attended while he was growing up, he never expected that he'd compromise himself so fast - but his ex-girlfriend's MILF of a step-mother just has a way about her that makes anything feel possible.
In this story you can expect sexy massages, hot MILFs, cute coworkers, steamy oiled-up sex, pot massage oil, anal, squirting and ravenous libido. All characters in sexual encounters are 18+.
====================
The lobby hadn't changed that much since the last time I'd been at Greenmeadow Golf & Country Club. The place definitely leaned heavier into the Country Club than any other place in the area, and its longstanding reputation as the playground of the local wealthy and elite was well deserved. Daily brunch service, multiple pools, tennis courts, squash courts, two complete 18-hole golf courses, a private games room for card tournaments, a billiards hall, and even a full ballroom for weddings and whatever other extravagant parties their patrons wanted to hold.
I'd grown up going to Greenmeadow, dressed in starchy, uncomfortable but fashionable clothes, eating the richest foods and only partially appreciating the wild array of opportunities being presented to me. But I hadn't stepped on the grounds in three years, and I likely wouldn't have ever again if my Father had anything to do with it.
"Good morning, sir," a pretty brunette said as I stepped through the front doors. "Your membership card please?" She gestured at a little blinking stand where I assumed I was expected to swipe a card. It looked like they'd modernized a bit.
"Actually, I'm here for my first day," I said. "I'm Trevor Brantford. I'm supposed to be meeting Olga Bondarenko?"
"Oh, alright," the woman said, her smile sliding from customer service to a more casual attitude. Even her posture changed a little as she relaxed. She tapped on the touchscreen in front of her. "I let her know you're here, Olga should be up any minute. From now on you should come in at one of the staff entrances. There's one down and around to the left through the golf cart garage, and another one at the far end of the building just opposite the pool area in the parking lot."
"Will do," I said. "Thanks."
She returned to what she was working on behind the welcome desk, and I went and stood a little further into the lobby so I didn't look like I was taking up her attention. From what I remembered, Greenmeadow had always been fairly strict about their front-of-house staff giving quick, efficient service and some of the longstanding members could be a little bitchy if they were kept waiting.
They hadn't redone the lobby at all and the modernizing had maintained the old, rich atmosphere. I was checking out some of the ridiculous paintings they'd hung, which reminded me of British hunting scenes but somehow abstract at the same time, when a short woman about my age approached me. "Hey, Trevor?"
"That's me," I said, turning with a smile.
She was short, maybe five foot nothing, and was wearing one of the deep green polo shirts and khaki shorts that the athletic attendants and snack cart girls wore, with the crest of Greenmeadow on the left side of her chest. She was cute in a nerdy sort of way, her long blonde hair was straightened and pulled back into a ponytail that trailed down her back, and she wore a pair of frameless glasses that gave her a sort of hot librarian look without leaning too far into it. "Cool," she said, "I'm Marissa, Olga sent me to bring you down to her office. If it's your first day do I need to give you the nickel tour?"
"It is," I said. "But I've been here before. My parents are members."
"Ah," Marissa said non-committaly as she started leading me through a Staff Only door discreetly hidden behind an urn in the back corner of the room. "Summer job?"
"Heh, no," I chuckled. "This is my full-time gig for the near future."
She glanced over her shoulder, considering me. I could tell she was trying to get a fast read of what kind of person I was. She led me down a plain service hallway and then into an industrial stairwell where our voices echoed - these were areas of Greenmeadow I'd never seen before. "How's a guy whose parents can afford membership here end up working at the Club?" she asked.
"By choice," I said. "I was terrible with math and languages all through school because of my dyslexia, but my father still thought I should go to school for business. I got a three-year degree in massage therapy instead; he still hasn't forgiven me."
"Oh, so that's why you're meeting Olga," Marissa nodded. We'd left the stairwell and were heading down a tiled hallway with windows overlooking the tennis and squash courts. "I figured I was picking up a new maintenance guy or something when she asked me to come up. But you're going to work in the spa."
"That's the plan," I said. "Get some experience and save up to open my own practice at some point. What area do you work in?"
"Depends on the day," she said, relaxing more now that she'd decided I was at least sliding my way into being a normie instead of a Club member. "Today I'm driving the beer cart out on the courses, but I also work as a waitress and bartender in the main restaurant and work on the catering crew for the big events."
"Sounds like they keep you busy," I said. We'd turned a corner and were looking at a staff break room with a few offices studded around the exterior. The break room was empty, but two of the five offices had people working in them.
"Oh, it's by choice," she said. "I'm paying off grad school as I work my way through it."
"Cool," I said, but didn't have a chance to ask her any more questions because she stopped and knocked at one of the office doors.
