The Fake Massage Therapist by magmaman
I suppose you could call me a voyeur, lord knows a peek down a lady’s blouse or a flash of panties by accident will get me up and going in two seconds flat.
But peeking into windows or taking photos up some woman’s dress can get your face attached to a telephone pole so I repressed the urges.
One thing I do for my own pleasure is go for a massage every week. Even the ones who are strictly legitimate are nice, and every once in awhile I can find a gal that actually likes to do a bit extra.
Those are heaven, it’s a damn shame they are few or far between.
Oh, there is always the sure thing, reach deep in the jeans and hand over a couple hundred and the gal will grab your knob and go for it.
But those are always rushed and they don’t have a clue about bodies, emotions, touch, all of the things that make a session magic.
So I am not only a voyeur, but a predator, too. I will often spend a dozen or more sessions with a target, getting to know them, developing trust.
Then eventually they are doing more and more, and about one out of 10 or so will finally break down and go for it, all you need to do is catch them at the right moment.
That is where I got the idea!
Patty, one massage therapist I knew was also a teacher, and she needed a subject for one of the classes she ran on the side.
“Continuing Education” she called it. It seems she had five students that had graduated from her class, and she ran an extra class at her home office to teach them to deal with everything from the jerk phonecalls to business matters like dealing with the hints, comments, all the things guys do.
That was when it hit me that I wasn’t alone in the little games I play, a lot of the therapists I thought I was happily manipulating were very busy manipulating me!
Patty’s class was neat, because as she explained it to me, my job WAS to be the jerk on the table.
I was to make little comments, and Patty would explain a proper response, she even had a pair of phones set up and I would “call” for the first appointment. The student would get to hear me say things like, “I really have a lot of trouble with my upper thighs” or “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t use a drape, those irritate me.”
A cool one was “Is your massage like Dotty’s?” one of the very well known local hand job artists.
(One I had been to many times but I denied of course.)
I even got to lay on the table and do the little flip of my dick to whatever side the therapist was standing on as soon as her back was turned. (That one is stupid guys, do it and you lose..LoL.)
Another neat one was the tug on the sheet to “accidentally” expose my stuff, then apologize. Hell, that was fun, I was laying there with five female students watching and when Patty turned her back to reach for the oil, out came my package magically, getting giggles from everyone as Patty turned back and I went, “Oh! I am SOOOO sorry!”
I loved those sessions, and the funny part was afterwards they all sat around and talked, not one of them even bothered in the least that a naked man had just exposed himself to all of them.
With a full blown boner!
Classroom, normal stuff. Learning and all of that.
Hell, several of them even handed me the ever-present business card, asking me to give them a try sometime.
Talk about an inside track with the ice already broken! I had me a deal going on and I was loving it.
But all of that did do one thing for me. I knew about how to give a massage, how to act, and I had combined tricks of probably no less than 50 massage therapists to draw from.
It hit me that I could do that myself.
So I bought a portable massage table, got some nice Almond oil, cut some sheets up and sewed the corners with some stretchy material to make bottom covers. I even bought a nice little over the shoulder carry case.
The only thing I was missing was a license.
Minor complication.
I signed up for one of those telephone message services, smart enough to not use my home phone number.
Then I rad an ad in the health services of a local paper known for running other ads that were, shall we say, a bit sexy?
“Quality massage for Ladies only, or Ladies in a couples scenario” it read.
I sat back to wait, drooling at the idea of getting my hands on some female flesh. I knew I could give a better than average massage, and that combined with being reasonably good looking and a pretty good set of manners, I figured I would be looking at tits and bare behinds regular as clockwork.
A week went by before I got my first message. I hit the button and a male voice said “Hey, do you work on guys?”
I deleted that one, the next one was the same. By the second week and some dozen or so calls from men, some of them outright assholes, I was getting discouraged.
Then I hit the message button, ready to delete when this soft female voice said she would like to talk about my service, and she gave a phone number.
Hell, I dialed the number instantly, it even popped in my head that I should brush my teeth first, I was all excited.
I managed to calm myself, the line rang and her soft voice came on.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I am Dan, returning your call regarding a massage?”
“Oh, hi. I am Lori, I was wondering about your rates and appointment times?”
Rates? Shit! I never even thought about that part.
“Sure. My schedule is pretty open, I only have four bookings this week.” I lied.
“What time were you thinking?”
“I was hoping for this evening.” she said.
“Let me check.” I waited a few seconds.
“OK. I am free from 6 PM on. My introductory rate is just $20. I am trying to build a business.” I added.
“6 is good.” She gave me the address, I hung up, happy as a clam in butter sauce.
I pushed the next message.
“Hi, my name is Diane. I am just in town today and tomorrow, please call me back.”
I called her and booked her for 9 PM.
Wow! Two in one evening!
I spiffed myself up, loaded up my gear and right at 6 PM on the dot I knocked on the door.
It opened, here stood a woman, perhaps 5 feet tall and around 300 pounds.
“Hi, I am Lori! Are you Dan?”
I sighed, set up my table and had her get ready. My first massage, my first try at giving one and I was working on a gal that tested the quality of my table. I was thinking that I was glad I had paid the extra $100 for solid Oak legs.
But it was still OK, I worked on her back and legs, then had her roll over, being careful with the draping. I did cringe when the table legs groaned a little but they held.
I finished up her legs, did some sweeps over her ample stomach, then I was going to do her arms and hands and get the hell out of there.
“Do you mind… Maybe doing my…breasts? They ache sometimes.” she said.
“All right. I don’t mind.” I slid the top part of the sheet downwards. For a heavy woman she was small busted, her nipples were like little cones sticking up. I began with circles at the outer edges, gently lifting and massaging the flesh of each one carefully. She sighed and closed her eyes. Finally I was doing tighter and tighter circles around the edges of her nipples, I noticed they engorged and got firm at my touch, so I simply grasped each one and rolled the tips between my thumb and index finger. That got a long soft moan from her, I swear she almost orgasmed, and I noticed her legs shifted and parted.