Change of job
After fourteen years with the company, they fired me and told me it was because they had to cut the budget. Fourteen years of doing everything for them, smoothing over co-workers, working late, and even bringing coffee and babysitting. I did them all, and I did it with joy, joy. And then I was laid off.
I was sitting there holding a cardboard box with fourteen years worth of stuff and photos, staring at my empty closet. And then an idea came to me. I think it was a stupid idea, but I logged into the computer one last time and changed the password for the entire office from “password1” to “kissmyass”. „Fuckingsshole” era prea lung, trebuia să aibă zece caractere sau mai puțin. They should pay an IT guy to come in and fix everything.
Anyway, anyone who knows me knows that I don’t stay down for long. The moment I got my pink briefs, I put on my big girl panties and started working on the next step.
I have always loved a good massage and have been told I know how to give a massage. You know, friends, family. Informally. So I decided to get formal training. One of the local massage parlors was offering classes so I called and signed up.
I loved it, I absolutely loved it. And I’ve found that I’m good at it. I loved being able to give people fifty minutes, eighty minutes of heaven. It was a success when I saw them fall asleep, when I had to wake them up when I was done. I slowly built up a clientele.
My reputation grew, and I quickly moved from spa to spa, eventually to Vip Zone, the most prestigious massage parlor in town. The one with the best relaxation room, the largest menu of services, the best staff.
One day this guy came in. Nice guy, nice body, maybe thirty. Well, he was really excited about my work. Oh, you have good hands, that’s very good. I like your technique, that kind of stuff. And I don’t think that was the only thing he loved, judging by the outline under the sheet, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, at the end he says:
– We can continue?
At first, I thought he was joking. He sits on the edge of the table, glistening with massage oil, and stands up. The sheet is somewhat hanging on him, his back is half exposed. He reaches into his robe pocket and pulls out a hundred dollar bill and says again:
– Can we move on?
His hands were shaking a little, I don’t think he had done this before.
I took the money and said ok lie back but not a word, understand? He lay back on the table.
What is that? OK, how many details do you need? All? Okay, here it is. Stop me if you’ve heard enough.
Anyway. where was i Right.
He lay back on the table. I folded the sheet halfway up his thigh. He was completely exposed. He softened again, maybe because he was excited to ask me for “extra”. I put him on his back and ran my hands from his chest to his thighs in big draining strokes. My fingers ran through my pubic hair and down between my scrotum and inner thigh. I made sure my fingers touched his cock on the way. And his nipples. I learned that you should never forget a guy’s nipples.
I did this three or four times and it was cool again. I lubricated his cock, giving it long, smooth strokes. I whispered, how’s the pressure? Great, he moaned. This guy had a very nice firm abs and I continued with smooth strokes along his abs with one hand while the other hand slid up and down his cock.
He was breathing hard now, and his stomach was tightening. I worked him faster then felt him shake. He gasped as he ejaculated. It must have been a while since he had ejaculated, because he kept ejaculating and ejaculating and ejaculating. On himself, on my hand. It was so much.
You said you wanted all the details. Just stop me if it’s too much. Good? Good.
Finally, he gave me the stop sign with his palm to let him go. I sat on the chair in the room with his cum on my hand, watching his unit twitch. I thought, well, you’ve done it now. I knew there was no going back.
I felt lost for a minute. But then I got up and washed my hands. I took some warm wet cloths and cleaned it. I covered him and whispered to him, not a word, did you hear? We would both be in trouble.
Okay, okay, he said. But I would like to go back sometime. Was a hundred enough? Well, I said, two hundred would be better. I do not know. I never thought about such things. But I knew I could use two hundred.
Acclimatization. I think that’s what psychologists call it. You know, when you do something, you know it’s wrong, and it becomes a little less wrong, and then you do it again, and it’s even less wrong. It never gets right, just, you know, not wrong. It was like that.
The next week he came back and was calmer, much more relaxed. I managed my time better and massaged it more slowly. I found that twenty minutes was about right, you know, enough time to get him going. So after thirty minutes of legitimate massage, we continue with twenty minutes of erotic massage. He ended up coming once a week.
