My Massage Parlor Years Pt. 02

I want to express my heartfelt appreciation for the many many Constant Readers who have sent me compliments on my stories using Literotica feedback instead of posting public comments. Your kind words meant a lot to me, allowing me to continue to write despite the hateful and meaningless comments like "cuck shit" and "diseased whore" from a few misogynist cretins." I have even had death threats in comments. I have learned that the more my Constant Readers love my stories, the more the haters come out to say nasty things about them.

I must warn my Constant Readers that there is not much sex in this story, not as much as usual anyhow. Don't worry there will be more sex in part 3. This part is just something I felt was necessary for you to know. If you haven't read part 1 of this story, you should probably do so before reading this one. Easiest way to find it is from my profile page under the stories tab.

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For my first month of working as a masseuse at the Magic Touch of Venus, the things I did during a massage varied according to the client. If I thought they were icky, I would only give them a massage. If they complained, saying a friend told them they could get more, I would tell them, "Sorry, I just don't feel like it today."

Every room had a big wall mirror which could be seen through from a hallway between the rooms. Either Ron, the boss, or his wife Sue, would be watching to make sure we were okay. They both had guns and were prepared to charge in if a customer got rough with us.

Most clients I would give a topless hand job for $20 extra if they asked for a "total body massage." My best friend Lorraine, who was living with me and my husband, worked there too and she gave nude blow jobs for $50. That was too far for me to go but, with my husband's encouragement and consent, I would give a guy a naked blowjob for free if I thought he was really hot and if he would lick my pussy and make me cum first. I would only charge that guy for the massage time (the parlor had to make their money) because I figured this was for me. The topless hand jobs with all the kissing and touching often got me aroused so I was looking for guys to have fun with as a fringe benefit of the job.

On a few occassions a customer would come in who was too filthy or too crazy looking and I would refuse to even give him a massage if he chose me. The boss backed us when we did this if we weren't too picky too often.

A few of the girls (about half) would let most of their customers fuck them. They charged what they wanted and the customers paid if they wanted a fuck. Prices for a fuck typically ranged from $100 to $300. Each of us set our own prices.

Before I worked at the Magic Touch, I thought prostitutes were horrible persons, people I wouldn't want to associate with. It turned out these were just normal girls from normal families, girls who were serious students at The University of Texas just like me, and were using the money to pay for room and board and tuition. I never met a girl at the massage parlor I didn't like.

Sometimes we were raided by the police. They would first send an undercover agent to the parlor and he would ask for sex. We never offered sex (house rules). I know cops are allowed to lie, so if we asked if the guy was a cop the agent could (and did) say no. But we had a good lawyer on retainer and if a cop does the asking, that's entrapment and we always had charges dropped, every time! Ron or Sue were always watching and listening on the other side of the mirror.

During my first month, two of the girls, Denise and Gail, made the mistake of offering to fuck for money two guys who came in together, even though these guys didn't ask for sex. Of course it turned out the guys were both undercover agents. They fucked the girls and then arrested them. Ron witnessed it all and didn't bother having his lawyer defend them because he knew they would be found guilty of prostitution. They were sentenced to thirty days in county jail and 90 days community service, picking up litter at the roadsides. In addition they each had to pay a $500 fine.

This created an opening for two girls. Ron hired them the next day. There was a waiting list. Their names were Sharon and Carolyn, both biology majors at UT. Sharon was married but recently separated. Of the two, I thought Sharon was the sexiest. She was a petite girl, about 5'3" with a nice but not overly endowed figure. She had dirty blond shoulder length hair and emerald green eyes. We smiled at each other when we met and I felt sparks flying both ways.

Don't get ahead of yourself in this story. Sharon and I didn't have sex, at least not as part of this chapter. We did become close friends fast though and learned each other's backgrounds, interests, sexual preferences, and recent history. We chatted while waiting between customers. I told her about how my husband liked to share me with other men and watch me having sex with them. She told me an awful story about her husband Bob.

Bob was 15 years older than her and was a successful business man. He owned several producing oil wells. She confessed she had married him for money and said it was the biggest mistake she had ever made. She found out as soon as the honeymoon was over that Bob was a cruel man. He had a drinking problem and when he got drunk they would have arguments over nothing. He would end up beating her. He used his fists and knew where and how to punch her so it wouldn't leave a mark. He would pull her hair, slap her, punch her in the stomach and knock her down. Then he would yell at her in a rage until he passed out from drinking too much. This was how she said half of their nights together went.

She told me her father beat her mother too so she thought this was how it was supposed to be and that maybe it was her fault for saying things that upset her husband or disagreeing with him.

I said, "I notice you're always here before I arrive and you don't leave with me when our shift is over. Why did you finally separate from your husband and how long have you been separated?"

"Things got much worse recently. We were together two years. During the honeymoon we made love every night. By the end of the first month it was down to twice a week. After the first six months it became once a month. By the end of our first year he quit wanting to make love to me entirely.

"Mind you, I don't think I'm that bad at it. I tried to initiate sex but he always said he was tired and to stop nagging him about sex. He said it was the man's place to initiate sex and that any woman who did was a slut and a whore. "

"Maybe it was because he felt guilty about never having sex with me; because for no apparent reason he became extremely jealous and suspicious of me. When I returned home from classes he said he knew I had been fucking some guy.

"The drinking and the beatings got worse. He hired a private dectective to follow me around. If I talked to any guy, the detective would take pictures. He wasn't very good at his job and I spotted him for what he was almost immediately.

"I never had sex with other men while I was with Bob, never even kissed another man, so the detective never had pictures of anything like that. That didn't matter to Bob. He would show me pictures of me talking to some guy on campus and ask, 'Is this who you're fucking now, whore?'

"Things took their final turn for the worst when Carolyn and I became friends. She kept encouraging me to stand up to Bob, to leave him unless he stopped abusing me. She got through to me. She made sense.

"One afternoon after classes she said, 'I'm kidnapping you tonight. We're going to go out to the Hitching Post tonight for drinks and dancing to some good live country music. It's lady's night and they're giving women free shots of Tequila with every beer ordered.'

"Dancing?" I shrieked. "Oh my god, Carolyn, no! Bob would kill me."

"We'll leave him a note and tell him to have his detective come take pictures," she said. "It's just going to be dancing. I'm not asking you to cheat on your husband. There won't even be any slow dances. This band only plays two steps and line dances. Come on, let's have some harmless fun. I'll accompany you home afterwards to make sure Bob doesn't hurt you."

"So we went to Carolyn's place to freshen up. She fixed us hamburgers for an early dinner. We took turns showering and then we took her car to the Hitching Post. We got there at 8:30 and the band had already started playing. I knew John would be angry because I wasn't home to fix his dinner. I spotted his detective in the club. He stood out like a sore thumb.

"We ordered two long neck bottles of Shiner beer and the bartender gave us our first two free shots of Tequila with two lime wedges and salt on the rim of the shot glass. We squeezed lime juice into our mouths, licked salt from the shot glass, and drained the tequila in one gulp. It went down fiery, burning my throat and tummy. We followed the tequila down with big swigs of beer to put out the fire. This was followed by an immediate buzz.

"Carolyn pulled me out onto the dance floor and we did the two step to some song I can't remember the name of now. Guys immediately started trying to cut in but I said no. After the song ended we headed back to the bar for two more beers and two more shots. Two more dances and two more rounds later we were flying high. Carolyn started dancing with guys. I sat at the bar and chatted with the bartender.

"At least Carolyn didn't ditch me when she hooked up with a guy named Roy. She brought him with us as she drove me home. The three of us walked into my house and there was my husband pacing around by the front door, his face red with anger. He punched me in the face.

"Roy said, 'Whoa there pardner,' and put a hand on Bob's arm. 'Never hit a lady.'

"Bob laughed and said, 'To paraphrase an old line, that ain't no lady, that whore is my wife.' And then he sucker punched Roy, knocking him to the floor.

"I was drunk. I was fed up with being Bob's punching bag. I saw his golf bag by the door. Evidently he had been golfing that day.

"Bob was coming at me again, his fists raised, hatred in his eyes. I grabbed the driver from his bag, swung for his knees and connected with a TWHACK! Bob went down, holding his knee and howling in pain.

"Carolyn said, 'Come on, let's get out of here.'

"We bolted for her car, piled in, and she pealed rubber, taking off for her house. When we got inside she said, 'Call the cops and report Bob for abuse. This time you have two witnesses. Austin cops can be bad sometimes but they will come down hard on a wife beater.'

"The cops paid Bob a visit and warned him not to hit me again or they would have to arrest him. We found this out because Carolyn talked me into filing charges against him. A temporary restraining order was issued and there will be a hearing next week to determine if it will be permanent. This happened four days ago and I've been sleeping at the massage parlor since then. I only stayed at Carolyn's house one night. I knew Bob would show up there and was afraid he might hurt Carolyn. Here I'm under Ron's protection.

I hugged Sharon. Hugging turned into kissing. It didn't go further than a kiss but it was a hot passionate kiss, lasting a long time. Our mouths were open in a lip lock together and our tongues were dancing with each other.

When the kiss ended I told Sharon, "I have a better plan than you having to live at the massage parlor. We currently have an empty guest bedroom. You should come stay with us."

She shook her head. "When Bob finds out he will come to your house to get me. His detective will tell him where I am."

I said, "I have an idea about that detective. I will loan you some money and next time you see him, offer him more than what Bob is paying him. Tell him to feed Bob misleading information."

"No I couldn't take your money."

"It's a loan. You're going to be making a lot of money here. You'll be able to pay me back very soon."

"Thank you, Signe. Why are you doing this for me?"

"This is why," I said as I leaned in to kiss her again.