Just to let you know. This story is a long one. So if you're looking for a short story, so that you can have a quick wank, then this is not for you.
And another thing to be aware of. As the title suggests, a lot of what happens will be at a Massage Parlour. That's a place where women do lots of 'naughty' things to lots of men. So if that's not to your liking, then you shouldn't read this story. But I don't need to be told that, I hear you say. Yes, YOU might already know that, but some readers don't. I've written stories like this before, with similar titles, that have received negative comments. For example.
'I hate stories like this. The women are all disgusting whores. I wish I could give it zero stars'.
It was obvious from the title, and short description, what the story was about. However, despite knowing that they're not going to like it, they still read it. That's bizarre.
Now for the story...
-
As I threw it at him with considerable force, I shouted out as loud as I could, "You can stick your job where the sun don't shine!"
Annoyingly, my aim was off. The uniform, that I now no longer needed, missed him, but only by a few inches. With nothing else to throw, I had to be content with giving him some choice words. All of them vulgar and obscene, and there were lots of them. To his credit though, my actions hadn't fazed him. He was calmly standing in front of me, as if nothing had happened. Then he spoke.
"You can't quit, I won't let you. You have to give two weeks' notice, that's in your contract. And I'm already short-staffed so I can't do without you."
I didn't give a flying fuck about the contract that I'd signed. I was quitting, and there was nothing he could do about it. The consequences of that, were his problem, not mine. When I opened my mouth it was to give him more abuse, but I changed my mind. It wasn't worth the effort. Instead, I just walked out of the store without saying another word or giving him a backward glance, and with my head held high.
-
"Julia, quitting wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done. What are you going to do now?"
I nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders, giving the impression that I wasn't worried. But really, I was. I lived on my own so I needed to work to pay the bills. If I didn't get another job, and soon, then I was in deep shit.
"You could apologise. He might..."
That got a no from me even before Jess had finished speaking. And she knew me well enough to know, that on this occasion, there was no point in trying to persuade me because I was never going to change my mind. As well as having a temper, I was known for being as stubborn as a mule.
"Then let's think of something," she suggested.
That was going to be difficult. I didn't have any qualifications, and I wasn't really skilled at anything. I married young, and until Craig left me six months ago, I was a housewife, therefore my work experience was minimal. Over the years we'd grown apart, so him leaving me was a relief rather than a disaster. That was until I found out that the bastard had taken all of our considerable savings with him. In an instance, my circumstances had drastically changed. Before, I was a lady of leisure that wasn't short of money, now I was a woman that had to work in order to survive. If I ever find out where he is living, then I'm going to kill him!
Jess was clever, so I was confident that she would come up with something, but as the minutes ticked by without her speaking, I was becoming despondent. It was stupid of me to lose my temper over something that was so trivial, and now I was regretting it.
After giving a deep sigh, I said, "Am I a lost cause?"
The look that I got from Jess told me that I was, but then suddenly her expression changed. She was smiling. That had to be a good sign.
"I've got it!" she declared.
So I was wrong to doubt her. But what job had she found for me?
"You can work at Happiness."
I had never been there, but I knew of it. I can take a joke, but this wasn't the time for one, and she should know that. This was a serious matter, so I wanted sensible suggestions and not silly ones.
"Very funny, but do you have a serious suggestion? That's a sleazy Massage Parlour, not the sort of place that I want to work at."
"I mean it. Let me explain. After you've heard what I have to say you might change your mind."
I was now curious, enough to let her continue.
"What are the requirements for working there? I'll tell you. One of them is that you have to be a woman, an attractive woman. And that's definitely you."
I nodded. You won't get any false modesty from me. I know my worth. I might be forty five years old but I've still got enough to excite a man, even those that are a lot younger than me. A pretty face and voluptuous figure are always a winning combination.
"As you already know, the job is about doing more than just a massage. In fact, that's the important part of it. But is that necessarily a bad thing? You like sex, and working there will get you a lot of it."
I did like sex, with a passion, though at the moment I wasn't getting any. That part of my marriage had always been good, but unfortunately, it hadn't compensated for all the bad times when we weren't fucking.
"And think about all the money you'd be making. It would be a lot more than minimum wage."
She'd done a good job selling it to me, but I still wasn't convinced. There must be something else that I could do. A more suitable job, one that wouldn't raise eyebrows when I tell someone what I did for a living.
"Do you remember Tiffany? You've met her a few times."
Of course I remembered her. A tall woman with bright orange hair and bubbly personality. It was impossible to forget her.
"Yes, but why are you mentioning her now?"
"Because she's worked there. You can meet up with her and she can tell you all about it."
That was a surprise. I've had long conversations with Tiffany, but she'd kept that from me. And why had she told Jess about it and not me? As hurtful as that was, it wasn't important, what was though, was speaking to her about the Massage Parlour. Did I really want to do that? Probably not, but it would be a night out, and as always, Tiffany would be good company. I could have a few drinks and enjoy myself.
-
I waited until we'd ordered the food before asking Tiffany about her time at the Massage Parlour.
"What's it like working there? Please give it to me straight, warts and all. Don't hold anything back."
It took her a few seconds to gather her thoughts, then she spoke.
"It's like most jobs, a mixture of good and bad. However, most days I loved it, though there were occasionally some days when I didn't enjoy it."
"OK, but can you please be more specific?" I asked.
"Of course. It pays well and you get to have good sex with some nice men. The downside is that some clients don't turn you on, sex with them is just going through the motions. You have to pretend that you are enjoying it. Even faking an orgasm to keep them happy."
Obviously, I'd prefer the good sex, preferably with a man that has a big cock and knows how to use it, but when required, I was sure that I could fake it well enough to fool them.
