Student of Massage

Student of Massage

“It’s now or never!” I thought as I stubbed out my fourth cigarette then drained the final dregs of my third cup of coffee of the hour. I stood up, straightened my pink halter-neck dress and glanced once more at the non-descript house on the opposite side of the street.
As I hurried across the road I thanked God that I was in a town three miles away from where I lived and studied at Lord Shearer’s College. Hopefully no-one that I knew would see me as I walked up the stone steps to the front door.

My mind was racing as I stared at door, “This is crazy!” I told myself, “You can’t do this…its bloody madness!”
Then I remembered why I was turning the golden handle…I was broke! Completely penniless…nothing in the bank…in fact I had LESS than nothing in the bank! My credit cards had both been stopped and I needed to pay back three weeks rent a couple of loans from friends by Friday night… plus… I needed to eat (and drink of course!).

“Yes?” The middle-aged woman sitting behind the reception desk asked as she looked up from her magazine.

“I was wondering if…” I mumbled, “You have any vacancies?”

“Vacancies?” she grinned as she looked me up and down from behind her horn rimmed spectacles, “What sort of vacancies?”

This was always going to be difficult for me and I didn’t need this fat bitch taking the piss.
My face was bright red as I mumbled, “You know…as a…you know?”

The receptionist turned towards a couple of women that were sitting in their underwear in the far corner of the room, then back towards me, “You do know what we do here? Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I nodded.
“Have you done this sort of thing before?” The woman asked as she stared coldly into my eyes.

“Yes.” I lied.

There was then an uneasy silence until I finally shook my head.
“No…not really.”

“I presume that you’re a student at the College?” the woman asked rhetorically; as she stood up and walked around the desk, “Ran out of money…have you?”

I nodded in agreement.
“Your name?” The woman enquired as she waved me towards the other women.

“Susan…Susan Stranks,” I told her as I sat next to a black girl wearing matching red underwear and a pair of white plastic boots who was reading a magazine.

“Well Susan,” she addressed me in a well worn manner, “this is a massage parlour…NOT a brothel. We charge £50 which gives the punter a full topless massage and a wank or a fuck. You get £15 a time and pay me £20 a day for the use of our facilities.”
The phone rang, so she left me with the white girl.

“Chloe; can you go through the rest please?” the receptionist shrugged her shoulders and nodded towards a young woman in a white Basque, knickers and stockings.

Chloe gave me cup of coffee and offered me a cigarette. As I sipped my drink and nervously puffed on the cigarette Chloe and Sapphire explained that most guys were happy with a wank or a blowjob but some guys wanted “special stuff’, uniforms spanking, pissing or fucking you up the bum! I raised my eyes in shock but she smiled and told me not to worry as this would boost the charges.

My head was spinning and I was now beginning to have second thoughts.

“Well?” The older woman asked when she returned, “Are you still interested?”
I nodded and weakly smiled.
“It’s the wrong job for a shy girl!” She laughed.

“I’m not really shy,” I responded, “It’s…just …all a bit…you know…weird.”

Chloe laughed out loud, “If you think that this is weird wait until your old maths teacher wants you to shit in the shower for him!”

When they had stopped laughing Mrs. Hunt the receptionist, explained that I needed a ‘working name’. After a bit of teasing we settled on Bambi because of my big brown eyes and ‘innocent looks’.
I’m quite petite (5ft 2, size 10) and have what guys call a ‘cute face’ with a slightly turned up nose, shoulder length brown hair and my bra size is 30b – at least two of my ex-boyfriends referred to them as ‘perky’. I think that my best feature is my arse which is neatly round and firm. Because I look so young, Mrs. Hunt made me show her my driving licence to prove my age and then she gave me a guided tour and told me where everything was kept. As we returned to the Lounge she explained the parlours’ shift system and we agreed which afternoons and nights that I would be able to work and not affect my college work.

“Are you still sure about this?” Mrs. Hunt asked again.
I nodded and smiled, “Yes…it sounds like fun!”
“Jesus Christ!” Chloe howled, “It’s not Pretty fucking Woman! You’re not going to find Richard fucking Gere in this place!”
Mrs. Hunt scowled at Chloe then told her to get Simon and she’d see what I was made of, as she returned to her desk.

“Simon?” I mouthed to the black girl as Chloe left us.

The girl looked to the Heavens then whispered, “He’s her son.”
When she took me by the arm and led me into the back rooms, I must have looked stunned as she sighed, “This is your induction. You’ve got to give Milker a massage and a wank in front of the boss; that’s how she’ll know if you can do this.”

“But…he’s her son!” I said with a sharp intake of breath.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and opened a bedroom door. “That’s the bed, there’s baby oil on the table and towels in the drawers.” She told me as I looked around the Spartan room, “don’t worry; get your tits out, rub his chest and give him a wank and it’ll all be over in a couple of minutes and as long as you tell him that he’s got a big cock he’ll give his mother a good report.”

“Why did you call him Milker?” I asked as the door re-opened and a big lump of a man wearing a shabby tracksuit appeared. He must have been 6 feet tall and about 16 stone. His hair was a mess and he looked a bit dopey.
“You’ll find out for yourself!” she giggled as she hurried out of the room.

“Hello,” he said as he held his hand out, “I’m Simon.”

I shook his hand and replied, “I’m…Bambi.”
“I like that name,” he chuckled as he started taking his clothes off, “Bambi was a deer.”
“Oh shit!” I thought, “He is simple!”
Before I had the chance to reply he was naked and lying on the bed with his hard cock sticking out from a forest of black pubic hair.

“Ooh! that looks…huge!” I lied, remembering what I’d been told earlier.
“All of the girls tell me that,” Simon said as he proudly looked down at his three inch dick! “Can I see your tits please?”

For a few seconds I’d forgotten why I was in a room with a naked man.

My stomach churned as I unfastened the halter on my dress and shimmied until it fell onto the floor.

Simon’s smile got even broader when his mother, Mrs. Hunt came into the room.
“Carry on,” she told me as she stood beside the door with a blank expression on her face.
Simon held his hand out to touch my tits as they bounced when I stepped out of my dress. I shivered as his podgy fingers stroked my young flesh and teased my erect nipples.
Unsure what I should do I quickly poured some baby oil on him and began rubbing it into his hairy chest. As soon as my fingers touched his skin he began moaning and groaning. My hands were trembling as I worked my way down his belly knowing that sooner or later I would have to actually touch his quivering cock.

“Go on,” Simon urged me, “milk it…go on milk it!”

I took a deep breath and curled my oily fingers around his red hot shaft making him gasp.

“Yes…yes…yes,” he gulped, “milk ‘er, milk ‘er!”
My hand was now a haze as I rubbed it for all I was worth, the baby oil making my fingers glide up and down the shaft with ease.

“Yes…yes…yes!” Simon quickly gasped, “that’s it…milk ‘er…oooooohhhhh.”
As he flopped back onto the bed I watched in amazement as a trickle of white juice ran down his cock onto my hand.

“Oh…Bambi that was…lovely,” Simon heaved a sigh, “that was the best I’ve had for months.”

“Mmmm me too” I lied again, “and there was so much stuff!”

“You’ll do nicely.” Mrs.