Massage Parlour

About 8 years ago I had just finished an 8 year relationship. I was between jobs. I had been bored with my sex life for a while and was having lots of fantasies. I realised that my situation at the time meant that there was nothing stopping me from fulfilling many of them.

One fantasy I'd always had was of me as a prostitute. I'd be wearing a tiny black mini-skirt, high heels, lots of cleavage etc. In my fantasy I'd be getting fucked by some bloke in a raincoat up an alley. This part was not really what I wanted to make happen, but something safer maybe...

Purusing the local paper for willing participants in my wantant fantasies, I came across a few adverts for 'Girls Wanted' by massage parlours. My curiosity was aroused. I phoned a couple of them and made arrangements to go along to visit...

Friday 2oth November 1998

On Friday I went to "M's" (a massage parlour). There were girls in stockings & short white uniforms. It was a fairly cosy club. Told me they offer just massage, topless or nude, but no sex or anything. I was suprised but pleased I suppose. Didn't see any 'work' being done.

In retrospect this seems very naiive of me, but I saw no reason why they should lie to me. Of course as far as they were concerned I could have been anyone - maybe gathering information about what they got up to there.

Monday 23rd November 1998

Today I watched a prostitute have sex with a man!
I went to "B's"(another place offering 'services'). The woman there met me outside, she was wearing a smart trouser suit. Once inside she changed into an evening dress with high heels and stockings & suspenders underneath. We waited for a few hours chatting, she explained everything in detail to me. She said that they do offer sex at "M's", despite what I'd been told. A few callers came to the door intercom camera, but she didn't let them in because she didn't like the look of them.

She was telling me that she was married and that she and her husband sometimes did live sex shows for private customers. I was quite impressed. They had 2 kids. She was attractive and her body was slim but not perfect. Soon a customer came along that she let in. During our conversation I had asked exactly what happens during the appointment. Although I was experienced enough at sex, it had been either with my boyfriend or, when with anyone less familiar, I'd always been off my head one way or another! I was a bit nervous of how it goes when you're sober, it's the middle of the day and you don't even know the guy let alone fancy him! She had offered to let me sit in with one of her customers.

We asked the guy if he minded me watching as I was a new girl and he agreed with niether question nor exitement. I followed them in and sat in the corner on a sofa and watched, to see exactly what happens...

There was no kissing. The guy didn't do much but lie there. She did some sensual rubbing of him, offered her tits in his face ("They love that" she had said). She put the condom on without a fuss, climbed on, went up and down about four times till he shuddered, then climbed off. It was all quite clean - no sweating or moaning. Rather straightfoward really... I reckoned I could cope with doing that.

I actually ended up working at "Ms" because there was more money to be had there. I worked there for about 2 months before I started offering more than just massage.

Big Boobs

I didn't like to tell everybody. Some people are very quick to judge. Even my Mum didn't get told the full story, she was told about the neatening up of my appendix scar that I was also having done at the same time. I knew that she'd know eventually, but I had made my choice and didn't want anyone planting doubt in my mind. I was so exited about it.

I would be going from a 36B to a 36DD. I was shopping one day before I'd decided on what size I wanted to be. I saw a 36E in the bargain bucket so I bought it for a try on. It looked huge, stuffed with socks. I decided that a DD was fine. That would make shopping for my new size easier too.

I did it all on my own really. My boyfriend (the second one from the skiing trip) knew, so did my lover (one of his best mates), but they didn't live anywhere near me. So I had the problem of looking after myself after the operation. I made sure I had supplies of everything in.

Conveniently, a girl friend had asked a favour a few weeks earlier. She was doing her aerobics instructors exam and needed participants for the class, so I went along to support her. This left me with an ideal candidate to collect me from the hospital. She was extremely impressed with my bravery at going for it.

I had also confided in a friend / lover at my work. He shared my excitement. He was very good to me in the week after the operation. It was a very hot May and I'd developed an allergic reaction to the dressings, so was pretty uncomfortable. He came round and gave me a shoulder massage. He did ask to have a look, but didn't push it when I said no.

The worst thing was not really the pain but the discomfort. Sleeping on my back instead of my front was something I never got used to. Thankfully now I can sleep on my front again.

It was about 12 weeks before I could go running properly again. I found that I now needed 2 sports bras instead of 1.

And my customers... Of course they love by big boobs now. I'm actually in better shape these days and wear a 34E, but I still quote my size as a DD as I don't want to risk sounding 'outsize'. My boyfriend loved them. He couldn't wait to be able to play with them properly after they had healed. There is no change in sensation. I get much more pleasure from them than I used to. I'm glad I did it!

Boobs

What can I say... Ain't boobs brilliant!

Ever since I started puberty I have wanted big boobs. Well, just boobs would have been good to start with. I was the last girl in my class to start wearing a bra. This was partly due to my Mum's unindulgent attitude of "You don't NEED one yet". What does needing one have to do with it when you're 13? She's never really needed one herself, and didn't really seem to get how desirable they were to me. I didn't go on about it though, infact I don't ever remembering asking for a bra, I didn't want to seem too girly, I liked to live up to my Mum's perception of me as practical and sensible.

Ever practical and sensible, I took up my best friend's offer of hand-me-downs when she grew out of them. There was a selection of colours and sizes, only the smallest (32AA - nobody NEEDS that!) of which fitted me. I was delighted, and spent a fair amount of time admiring my new womanly look in the mirror. I could now be promoted from vest-wearer to bra-wearer, and proudly wore my new bra to school, knowing that it showed through my white school blouse.

I couldn't wait for the time when I would fit into my favourite bra in the collection. It was a bright blue push-up Wonderbra. My step-mum used to ALWAYS wear a Wonderbra and I thought that her boobs looked great in them. I quickly became impatient and tried it on with the cups stuffed with tissues. One Saturday I even ventured into town on the bus wearing the stuffed wonderbra undernearth a vest and a jumper to disguise the lumpiness of it. The tight strap around my ribs gave me the constant feeling that my vest or something had ridden up and needed to be pulled down to make it more comfortable. I was quite glad to get it off when I got home.

I only had a small window of time when my boobs were sufficiently large and at the same time my bum was sufficiently small. It didn't last long, as nature took its course.

I had another best friend who I used to often stay over with. We always had a great time together. The best times were to be had at the local teenagers' disco where we were extremely interested in the boys. She was more developed than me in the boob department, infact she had seemed to go immediately from the girl stage to the droopy stage, but her boobs were still full and a matter of great envy and desire to me. I remember one time we were messing about in the middle of the night underneath the covers of a shared double bed, both wearing our nighties. I had such a strong desire to touch her boobs, they would have been so soft and full and sexy through the t-shirt fabric. The urge almost overcame me but I had the feeling she would go mad with me, call me a lesbian and chuck me. It wasn't worth it.

A few years ago I was on a skiing trip in Austria. I was having a great time with the skiing, boozing and partying. I was part of a very large group on an adventurous training trip through work. We were all young and fit. I had spent the best part of the first week shagging one of the instructors. I knew he was married but we had a saying "What happens away stays away". I'm not so easy with the expression these days, now being from a different perspective, but then I had no scruples and just LOVED SEX! We had some great sessions in the huge lodge that the privilaged instructors were staying in, it had one of those showers with jets at all different levels. Ah - good memories. After that first week he had to leave, but along came another of my friends' friends and I spent the second week shagging him. Apparently the two of them were good mates but who cared? I was having fun. I subsequently went on to be his girlfriend for about 2 years but that's another story.

At the end of the trip my mate and I were waiting around in the accomadation and one of the other guys was chatting with us. We were both wearing little vest tops and I had no bra on. I was feeling pretty good about the shape I was in at the time having just managed to lose a few unwanted pounds. He said "Have you ever thought about having a boob job?". Up to that point I honestly had never felt the need for one. I felt my boobs were a sufficient handful and had even been called "busty" once or twice. However, the seed had been sown.

A year or so later the idea had become stronger and I was making plans to return to part time escort work after a break of about 5 years for a 'proper job'. I knew that I would be able to afford it. My bottom had also grown larger as a result of a period of depression and unhealthy lifestyle. I figured that if I didn't lose weight then a boob job would bring me into proportion, and if I did lose weight then I would still be happy with big boobs. My decision was made. I was going to have a boob job...

Pre-Appointment Arousal

I have a bit of a routine when I am expecting a visit from a customer. It involves things like this:

Ensure that I am clean and hair-free in vital areas
Ensure that the 'front of house' is clean, tidy and presentable
Ensure that the area smells nice (plug-ins or smelly candles are good for this, plus of course good old fresh air from an open window - But perfume or body spray for me!)
Ensure that the bedroom is the right temperature (too hot or too cold is not good for optimal performance from either party)
Remove wedding and engagement rings
Choose an outfit and underwear
Apply make-up
Get dressed and do my hair
Check myself out in the mirror

It all takes anywhere between 10 minutes and an hour depending on how much there is to do.
It's a routine that I have got quite used to, and it is usually followed by an appointment involving sex.

Now I like sex yes. I like to feel sexy and to share it. I am sure that customers pick up on how horny I am and it turns them on. It turns me on to think that I am turning them on. It's a self reciprocating thing, it works for me. The more I can get turned on during an appointment, the better for me and for him. So I tend to go with the sexy feelings and even encourage them within myself. (Sometimes in my fantasies I imagine myself as a man doing sexual things to me. I feel exactly what it is like to have a big hard cock and to put it in my mouth or fuck me with it.)

Anyway, it all begins when I am putting on my make-up. For some reason, I suppose like Pavlov's Dogs, it is at this point that I know what is coming, I get the sexy tingles. I'm getting them now in fact as I'm writing this and expecting a customer in 20 minutes. This is pre-appointment arousal.

Earlier today I had an appointment that didn't turn up. I was very ready for it. I sat waiting, looking at my stockinged legs in a mirror as I sat on the arm of the sofa in my lounge. After about 15 minutes had passed and I was pretty sure that he would not be turning up, I turned full on towards the mirrror and opened my legs. It looked pretty good actually, my lace topped hold-ups and black miniskirt looked a treat. Of course I had a little play. Ended up writhing on the floor having a great time. I see it as research in a way - I need to check out how I look to customers when I lay back and spread my legs... Todays research tells me that I look just fine!

The One Left

I saw a customer today who was probably in his seventies. A very sweet man. He told me that he had lost his wife nine years ago. He obviously still has a sex drive though.

Afterwards we sat and talked for a quarter of an hour. He told me about his family and said that I bore a resemblance to one of his granddaughters. He mostly talked about his wife, who he obviousy loved dearly. They had been married for 48 years when she died. They had always worked together on a chicken farm. She hadn't been ill. One evening they said goodnight, in the morning he woke up and told her he would go to make a cup of tea, but she didn't answer...She had died in her sleep. He spoke about it with sadness, although he didn't get upset. He misses her.

It must be awful to be the one left, but it is also awful to think of the pain for my husband if I went first. It comes to us all, death.

I hope I have a happy marriage for many years and die happily with the one I love close by. It would be better to die together.

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, probably a quiet day in the sex trade...

Safety

Customers often ask me if I have any troublesome visiors or if am I worried about my safety, inviting strangers into my home...

No not really, unless I stop to think about it for too long. And even then not really. I always speak on the phone to customers before they arrive, and try to pick up on those that may be wierdos. Obviously that is not really a sound insurance policy. Once inside the house I could probably be overpowered by a big bloke. He would have to be very big and strong though because I would put up a hell of a fight (I am trained in unarmed combat and self-defence, from a previous life).

My answer to their questions usually points out that the 'danger factor' is one reason why my services have to be so expensive. It's only fair to be expensive - Not only am I providing a service, but I'm risking my life for it!

Even with 'normal' customers there is usually a continuous balance of power that I stay aware of. For example a few weeks ago I saw a customer, he was not of large frame but had a very athletic black body. There was not an ounce of fat on him and I could see every muscle. He was quite shy at first but once we got started he wanted to grope me and kiss my tits quite hard as he pushed me up against the windowsill. He seemed totally driven and almost overcome by an animal-like passion. It quite turned me on. He said he liked my body - that it was the body of a "real woman, with a proper arse and hips and big tits" (Great!). As he manhandled me I had the feeling that he could overpower me in an instant if he chose to. But it didn't worry me, I sensed that it was merely the throes of passion and he didn't mean me any harm.

I retain the power of allowing him to do certain things. As soon as I say "No I wont suck your cock without a condom" or "Ow that hurts can you please be more gentle", then I get uncomplaining compliance from him.

I'm not complacent though. I'm touching wood when I say that I've been lucky so far.

Smelly Men

I haven't worked out why yet, but I definately get themes of the day... Sometimes it's a day when it seems that all the customers I see want to kiss my mouth (which I don't do anymore), or take me out for drinks - separate from work (which I have never done), or they "just want hand relief" (fine by me) and some days it seems they all have a desire to do anal with me (usually fine by me).

Today the theme was not great, it was SMELLY MEN - yuck! I'm not sure whether the offending rancid odour emanates from their feet or their arses but it smells similar on them all. It is revolting. One oblivious culprit even enthused to me the fact that he had just had a nice bath before coming to visit me (he'd even promised this on the phone when he booked), and yet he was the smelliest!

At times like that I just have to think of the money and get on with it, whilst remaining pleasant and sexy. After all, it washes off!

Some customers express worry to me about their performance, size, age or looks, but I genuinely reassure them that it really is fine. So long as people are polite and clean then that's ok. And hey - can't EVERYONE do polite and clean? It seems not. Although thankfully it's only cleanliness that has been a problem so far.

The smelly man I saw today was telling me about a girl he saw a while ago who gave him a bath and it was really nice. Wise girl - I thought, jolly good idea. So I have promised to give him the same treat next time I see him....Everyone's a winner!

Immediate Start

I mentioned the book that inspired me to start this blog - "Belle De Jour - The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl"... But in actual fact, I haven't even finished the book yet. I tend to have a particular type of impatience whereby once I get an idea, I make a decision to do it, and then I want to do it RIGHT NOW, as soon as possible! Hence today I am making an Immediate Start.Many of my customers ( I tend to call them 'customers' rather than 'clients'. Not sure why, partly a term picked up from my first working girl partner and partly because 'clients' always seems a bit of a stuck-up term - like I think I'm too posh for straightforward 'customers'.) seem to share a similar kind of impatience. This morning for example I got a call from a customer who I last saw about a year and a half ago. He was in the area and wanted to come along in about 15 minutes time, he had "just phoned on the offchance".This is all very well at times when I'm sat in my comfortable living room at home drinking tea and reading a book complete with full make-up, clean and done hair, clean house, prepared bedroom and wearing fancy lingerie, high heels and a sexy little number... This occassionally is the case, but it is usually when I have just had the irritating experience of an appointment that didn't turn up, leaving me "all dressed up and nowhere to go".This morning that was not the case. I was having a bit of a lazy morning and had not yet even so much as cleaned my teeth. So I declined the offer and hope he calls back another day.It was a little bit naughty of me really not to make every effort to take as many appoinments as possible, given my current overdraft situation. You see I haven't always been a full time sex worker....