Tre's Massage Therapy Ch. 07

[A shorter story today, and it's more focused on developing characters and plot lines. There is a spicy bit towards the end, so if you're just looking to pop off, scroll away or find somewhere else to release the beast. Thanks for reading. Feedback and suggestions are welcomed btw. Wanting to improve my writing skills, especially focusing on dialogue and grounding the whole thing in reality. Hope you enjoy!]

Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? Whether getting nailed in the solar plexus, your child kicking you in the balls, or losing all your hard work when the computer crashes? It's the crushing forced acceptance of a defeat you know is not permanent yet from which it feels like you'll never recover. I hope you have not experienced it.

On the other hand, I do hope you've had the pleasure of having your breath taken away. Standing on the mountain top, hearing the opening orchestral swell of Les Mis, or holding your child for the first time? It's the overwhelming yet gentle dawning of Heaven meeting Earth after a long life lived in purgatory.

When I woke up today, I was excited. I was embarking on a new adventure. I had been a financial advisor, massage therapist, and business owner. But today I was going to be something else.

An escort.

One of my clients, Veronica Wells had hired me to come to her office and give her a signature massage, something I had developed for my therapy clinic creatively named "Therapy with Tre." I know, I'm a genius. Look, no one can be artistic and an expert of the female orgasm. That would be unfair.

So I brought my normal supplies as well as some Velcro straps. I had given Veronica a choice. Either she could have a normal signature massage where she would cum as many times as her body could handle or I could dominate her. She promptly indicated the latter. So I stripped her, bound her, and fucked her. I was so thorough in my efforts that I had to change clothes and wash my massage table with soap and water in order to get all the liquid evidence of her pleasure cleaned up.

Afterwards she took me on a little journey through her office where she introduced me to her two best friends (who happened to also be her employees) who also wanted to experience my talents. The first was a woman in her late 30s named Khadijah. She was from Iran and her husband has passed away a few years ago. Apparently she wasn't so devout a Muslim because she wanted me to fulfill her dead husband's duties and give her the physical pleasure and intimacy that my signature massages were geared towards.

As we walked to her other friend's office, Veronica made it clear that while I was supposed to make her friends feel as wonderful as was possible, I wasn't supposed to do for them what I had done for her. She had staked a claim on my dick and I was honestly thrilled. The woman had used her 20ish years of adulthood well and had learned how to please a man. I was planning on showing her how grateful I was next week when I returned to her office.

But then I saw Veronica's friend.

In one instant I was both heartbroken and captivated. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen was standing at the window overlooking the tall buildings that composed downtown. If I was a painter, this image before me would have been my magnum opus. As it was, I stood gawking like a ten year old boy walking into the Louvre for the first time.

Soft curly hair floated down over her shoulders with a top knot bunched up with a hair clip. Neither skinny nor fat, she was a woman. Her backside was honestly the best I've ever seen, and my highschool best friend was a volleyball player. She was wearing gray slacks and a sleeveless white button up blouse. A jacket hung off the back of her chair that matched her pants. As she turned to look at us, a defined jaw, angled nose, and striking green eyes drew me in further. Her lips were kissable but not Kardashian in nature. Her smile had hints of mirth and orneriness but broadcast kindness. The redness in her hair and eyebrows promised a fire to change the world. And when she welcomed us in and said hello? The warmth and confidence in her voice melted my heart.

All of this I could tell from a single glance. What I would later confirm were those character qualities I guessed at from first look. She was kind. Considerate. Friendly and warm to strangers, sassy and hilarious with her friends. She was everything I could barely have dreamed of in a woman.

So why did I tell you I was heartbroken after such a description? Because the name plate on her desk said: Catherine Wells.

Wells. She was related to Veronica. She couldn't be Veronica's daughter, at least not biological. She looked to be about my age or a little older. I hoped she wasn't Veronica's step daughter or anything like that. It's one thing to have open and transparent conversations about sex with your kids, but hooking them up with your personal escort seemed icky on a whole different level.

I managed to catch my breath and have the sound of the world rush back to my ears just in time to hear Veronica.

"Tre? Did you hear me?"

"Uh, sorry. Um. What did you say?"

The goddess in front of me smirked. She knew which cat had gotten my tongue.

"I said, I'll let you introduce yourself. Silly boy."

"Oh, sorry. Hi, how are you? I'm Trent. I mean, Tre. Everyone calls me that. Um. How are you?"

"You said that already," she chuckled. "I'm quite fine, Trent. It's nice to meet you." She glided towards me and shook my hand. Her grip was gentle but it was still a good handshake. My god, was this woman perfect?

"It's," I had to cough to find my voice, "great to meet you too." Her smile lit up the room.

"So this is the man of a thousand orgasms, huh?"

"Yes it is," Veronica chimed in. Her voice made me snap back to reality. I looked at her and she gave me a knowing glance. Apparently I wasn't the first man to be captured by Catherine's presence.

The next few minutes were spent discussing schedules and expectations. And to be quite honest, it was I who ended up being flustered and blushing. While Catherine was a bit more circumspect than Veronica, she was obviously completely comfortable discussing the fact that I was going to be seeing her naked next Friday. What a fascinating woman.

But despite the wonderful time with Mrs. Veronica Wells and the opportunity to meet the most beautiful woman I'd ever met in real life, my heart had sunk all the way to the bottom of my feet. I walked out of the building beside Veronica with my mind focused on one small nameplate that read: Catherine Wells.

I let myself sulk in the car as I drove home, drained in more than one sense of the word. The next day at work I tried to refocus on the fact that I was going to be increasing my income by an additional $2,500 a week. In order to make that happen, I had to sort out what I was going to do with my regular Friday clients. Darlene still came to see me pretty regularly. I had her as my last appointment on Fridays every other week so I'd have time to shower after her appointment. Plus I had 5 other clients who were scheduled weekly. Mr. Davion, Mrs. Kimball, and Ms. Fisher were three elderly folks who came to me as a way to stay limber. I really enjoyed seeing them walk out of the building in such relief from their usual aches and pains. Then I had Ms. Jess Henry, a middle aged stay-at-home mom who's hour with me every week was her one opportunity to be taken care of instead of always caring for others. Lastly, and maybe my favorite Friday clients was Jacqueline Hayes. She was a paraplegic who was working on regaining mobility in her legs and she claimed my massages made a huge difference for her. I hoped that was true and not just her being nice. As much as I loved the fact that I got to make women cum as a large part of my job, I got in this business to help clients like these. It was hard to imagine giving them up.

Lunch came quickly that day and I pulled up a chair to Maribel's desk where Krysten had taken to eating lunch with her new girlfriend. I wanted a solution and I hoped these two women would have a solution to my quandary.

"Seems to me like you just shift them into the rest of your week, make Friday your lighter and more fun day," Maribel said. Krysten and I both shook our heads.

"Splitting up the week into a steady but regular flow of clients is key to longevity in this business," Krysten replied.

"How would you know? You only started this job like, a year ago."

"I actually listen to my elders," Krysten said. The cuteness was nauseating. Or maybe I was just jealous.

"Aaaanyyways," I said, interrupting their flirtations. "Any other ideas?"

"Are there any clients who you don't like as much? Maybe you could shift them to Emily and fill their shots with your Friday clients," Krysten said.

"That's even if those people can switch their schedules around." Damn Maribel with her logic and reasoning.

"God... we have so many clients, there's just too many people wanting in. You know I now have a wait list for my signature massages??" Krysten said.

"Seriously," I responded. "Shit, do you think we need to hire another staff member?"

The three of us chewed on our thoughts and food.

"If you do hire someone else, you should hire a gay man. You know how much money we'd make if we had a hot gay dude on payroll?"

"Seriously, we'd clean up. But," I said, "I have zero desire to be the test dummy for whatever dude we hired. I might be freaky, but I don't swing that way."

The conversation flowed for a little while longer, debating whether or not to hire someone new. We wrapped up with the decision that we should... think some more. What? It was risky bringing in someone new. We weren't exactly the most above board business in town.

Well the day ended with my shirt thoroughly soaked in Darlene's squirt once more. She came up to me after getting dressed and pulled my head to hers. She kissed me really tenderly and told me she was leaving town and wouldn't be seeing me anymore.

"What? Why?"

"I'm transferring colleges next semester and it's almost winter break. I've already sublet my apartment. I'm crashing on my friend's couch until finals are over. That's why I can't invite you over for one last fling."

I was sad, but understood. Darlene had been my first signature massage client. Really she was the one who made me think of this business in the first place. It was sad to see her leave even though we hadn't gone out on any more dates for a while.

"So I just wanted to say thank you. You've made the past year and a half very, very interesting."

"Well, it was my pleasure. To give you pleasure," I chuckled.

"Well, I would like to show you how grateful I am," she whispered. She sunk to her knees and grabbed at the knot on my scrubs. The room still smelled of sex. Darlene's cum was still pooled on the table from her explosive squirts. It didn't take long for me to get completely hard. Pretty much by the time she was done pulling my pants and boxers down. She took me in her mouth and rimmed the head of my cock with her tongue. The sensation was so strong I almost buckled at the knees. Holy fuck but this girl knew how to suck a dick. She kept slurping and pumping her head up and down on me. After lubing me up thoroughly with her saliva she paused, took a deep breath, and jammed my hardness into her mouth and down her throat. The gagging sounds were made all the more erotic by the fact that she pulled her tank top down in order to reveal her breasts. She pulled back to catch her breath and whispered at me.

"Where do you want to cum?" She started rapidly jerking me off.

"Fuck," I moaned. "In your mouth, please."

"Good. I wanted to taste you one last time," she said and then resumed her delightful work. She would suck, breasts bouncing into motion, then drop down to suck and lick my balls while jerking me off with her hand. Within the next minute, the intensity of the moment made me approach the finish line. I announced it and grabbed onto the back of her head, timing gentle hip thrusts with her own movements. One hand pressed down at the base of my cock while the other in conjunction with her swirling tongue brought me to the finish line. My cum shot into her mouth and she kept teasing the orgasm out of me thereby increasing the intensity. As she sensed me coming to the conclusion, she pulled back from my now overstimulated penis and looked up at me with her gorgeous eyes. She stuck her tongue out to reveal a small remainder of my cum that she hadn't yet swallowed.

"Holy shit, Dar, that was incredible."

She swallowed and said, "I'm so glad you liked it, baby. I'm gonna miss this time together."

We cleaned ourselves up and kept teasing each other, grabbing each other, kissing each other as we walked out of the building. I closed her car door and waved as she drove off. The thought that stuck with me as I locked up the office was bittersweet. I was going to miss her, but I was weirdly grateful. She had made the decision easy for me. Next Friday, I wasn't going to cum in Darlene's mouth. I was going to cum in Veronica's pussy.

Then I got sad all over again, because I remembered I wasn't going to get to cum in Catherine.

Wait. What the fuck am I doing? Emily's reminder from a couple of weeks ago rang in my head. How in the hell could I be moping when I considered what my life was. I was making almost 100k a year... after taxes. I got to work with my bestfriend who still gave me happy ending massages, even if we weren't having sex anymore. I had the privilege of being a healer and therapist to people who needed my help. And oh yeah, I got to make a bunch of beautiful women cum every single week. I was regularly coated in squirt. Women begged me to see them more often because I was the only man who had ever made them feel this way. So why the fuck am I complaining and feeling down?

Forget it, I was going to be grateful and enjoy all that I had. So I went to the liquor store, bought a ridiculously expensive bottle of bourbon, went home and sat on the couch with a celebratory drink. I kicked my feet up, turned on ESPN, and pulled my phone out. I was scrolling through Evil MegaCorp's app, a.k.a. Amazon, bought myself a new and wildly overpriced espresso machine, and found myself sending a text.

Trent: Hey there, this is Trent. I'm looking forward to our session on Friday.

Oh fuck, what did I just do? I never texted clients like this. I take down phone numbers in case I have to cancel or reschedule an appointment. Why did I just message her out of the blue? But as I spiraled and buried my head in my hands, my phone buzzed. I looked at it and my heart leapt.

Catherine: Hey handsome, can't wait. V has been bragging about her time with you for months. Khadijah and I have been pestering her the entire time to hook us up. I think we finally wore her down.

Do you hear that thumping sound? No? Just my pulse flooding my ears I guess. I responded.

Trent: Bragging, huh? Hopefully the bar isn't too high. I'd never want to let you down. It was like my fingers were on auto pilot while my brain was screaming to slow down and behave. Catherine was related to Veronica. I couldn't fuck this up.

Catherine: I mean, even though we just met yesterday, I have the feeling there's no way you ever could let me down.

Trent: Oh?

Catherine: Yeah, I could just tell.

Trent: Tell what?

Catherine: That you actually respect women. You know, like a decent dude is supposed to do.

Trent: I don't think I could have my job if I didn't respect women. Respect is like... one of the principle tenets of Therapy with Tre.

What the shit? Principle tenets? Who the hell talks like that? It was at this moment I knew I was fucked. Yeah, I was flirting but that could easily be dismissed as harmless. Veronica would certainly understand. No, I knew I was fucked because of her reply. It was a GIF of the little white boy giving a look of disapproval with a caption of her saying,

Catherine: Really dude? Not slick at all, are you?

I would have been nervous, but she included some laughing emojis that made my heart settle. We continued texting for the next few hours. I started falling asleep and the phone smacked me on the face. I haven't been this flustered about a girl since... Emmi, I guess.

Emmi was my best friend in high school. A little bit country, badass volleyball player, would punch any dude who looked at her the wrong way, and a total softy with me. We had loved each other but our timing just never lined up. To this day, I regret not just pulling the trigger and seeing where things might have landed. We don't speak anymore so it's not like a breakup would have changed the result at all. Then again, things might have gone worse just as likely as them going better. I couldn't live in the past. But I could learn from it. I promised myself in that moment that somehow I was going to take this girl on a date.

But what do I do about Veronica? And how were they related?