My name is Cathy Hartford. I'm a 21-year-old college student. I am studying to become a physical therapist. I excelled in both cheerleading and academics in high school and was awarded scholarships in both. While I still love cheerleading in college, my desire is to pursue a career in therapy.
The head of the PT department, Mrs. Taylor, co-owns a physical therapy center. She doesn't work there much, but is heavily involved in the management of the place. In addition to the therapy business, they have a massage franchise attached. Several upperclass students in the PT program work there as paid interns, after qualifying for their state massage license of course.
Mrs. Taylor confided in me that she had to consider bringing me on before agreeing to do so. It was not because she didn't think I was up to it, rather it was because of my Asian heritage.
I am half Korean. My father met my mother while he was stationed in Korea in the Army. They married and moved back here when his enlistment was up, and I am the youngest of two kids.
Being an attractive half-Korean--I am a fit woman, standing 5'6" with medium length black hair and a firm 34-B-24-34 body--Mrs. Taylor was concerned that I would be treated differently because of the stereotype of women in Asian massage parlors, which are known for providing "happy ending" handjobs, and sometimes much more.
Mrs. Taylor told me that it would be discriminatory not to give me the opportunity, but she needed to warn me about it. She made sure that all of the females understood that anyone caught in any kind of sexual activity, especially soliciting money for sexual favors, would not only be fired, but as interns for school, would be expelled.
I have to admit that there have been several times that male customers have hit on me. And times that they have moved their hands so that they could get a quick feel between my legs when I'm leaning over the table. Sometimes it may be accidental, but I know that most of the time it's on purpose. I usually reposition myself immediately, and move their hands accordingly. If it happens again I will say something to let them know that they will be told to leave without a refund if it continues. But most of the time I don't have to worry about it. Although I admit that there have been times that I have seen some tempting male erections. Sometimes nice enough that I find myself pleasuring myself back in my apartment thinking about them.
It's not as if I've never applied my talents to provide sensual massages. I've done this with four of my college boyfriends and one man that I had a one night stand with. But all of these have been away from work.
The first two were men I dated when I was just learning the art of massage, so I wasn't as good at it, but the guys still enjoyed it.
The next was a senior I dated last year. I had fallen head over heels for him and thought that we would continue dating after he graduated. But he moved back home after graduation and hooked up with his high school sweetheart, who I learned he had spent time with over Christmas and Spring Break while we were dating. I was heartbroken, and rebounded over the summer by having a one night stand with a guy from my home town who I gave one hell of a massage to before fucking his brains out.
I dated another student for two months when school started, but that relationship ended when he became too possessive.
Steve, my boyfriend from last year, is the only man I dared to do anything with at work. He stopped by one evening when I was closing the shop up. There was no one here and the doors were locked, so he talked me into giving him a massage and having sex on my table. It was fun, but I was worried that someone would come back in and catch us.
I'm thinking of Steve because of my next customer: Will Thomas. He went to high school with me. We were never friends, but we did know each other since we had been in a couple classes together. He was roommates with Steve, so I had been around him a few times last year. Will seemed like a nice guy. He was a bit shy. He looked similar to Steve in many ways. Both were six feet tall, very similar body type, both being medium build and in decent shape. Both had short brown hair. From behind it was easy to confuse them. But Steve was better looking in the face, and had piercing blue eyes while Will was average looking, with narrow brown eyes and a thin mustache.
I was surprised when I saw Will's name on my chart as my last client of the day. I don't usually take clients that I know from school. In fact, I don't tell many people that I work here. I escorted Will to the room and gave him instructions, then left the room so he could undress and get ready.
When I enter, Will is laying face down, with no underwear on and without being covered by a towel. I always tell customers that they can wear underwear, but many do not. So we always cover their mid section with a towel. I see Will's bare ass. I have to admit it doesn't look bad, but I don't want to see it. I quickly cover him with a towel and begin the massage, asking the standard questions to determine how best to massage him. Seeing his hands at the edge of the table, with his fingers up, I take each arm and hang it down by the side of the table. I don't want him to touch my crotch even on accident.
He has paid for a full massage, so I work my way along his neck and shoulders before moving down his back. He tries to make small talk, which I avoid as much as possible. Massaging this naked man who I went to high school with and who obviously knows about some of the sex I've had with his friend Steve makes me uncomfortable.
As I work on his left leg, Will rolls over, allowing the towel slide off. I see his 7-inch, shaved cock and it is fully erect. "This muscle is pretty stiff, maybe you can work on it a little."
I back away. "Look, Will, this isn't that kind of a place."
I'm pissed at his behavior, but continue looking at his cock. It's been a couple months since I've had sex.
"I know you've had sex here before." He tells me.
"I don't know what Steve told you, but I don't have sex here."
Will smiles at me. "Really, I can prove otherwise." He jumps off the table and goes to where his clothes are hanging. Ignoring his protruding erection, Will pulls out his cell phone and brings up his photo album. He returns and starts showing me pictures. My eyes widen as I see pictures of me in this very room, naked and having sex. They have been cropped so that the man's head is never really in view, except for the back of his head when it was buried between my legs. I know the man is Steve. I see him going down on me, me sucking him, him fucking me and me stroking his cock. I remember that night well. "How the hell did you get these?"
Steve used his phone to record you. Actually, he secretly recorded you two having sex a few times at his apartment. When he left he sold me his laptop because mine had just died. I found that he left copies of the videos on it. I took some screen shots and edited them so you can't tell who it is. Hell, I can say it's me."
I am completely speechless. I cannot believe that Steve filmed us having sex, especially here. And that Will has copies of the videos.
"Look at this one," he says, "he put money on the table before leaving. That looks like a prostitution transaction going down."
"He left me money to pick up dinner for us when I finished up." I explain.
"All I know is that if I show your bosses these pictures they're going to be convinced that you've been taking money for sex."
"Oh my god, you wouldn't do that to me. We've known each other for years."
