Category — massage

Asian Hotties in New Jersey, listed in the local yellow pages under the heading "Massage - Meat".

See the top of that image? It says “Massage – Meat”. So now at least in New Jersey, asian massage girls are listed between MASSAGE and MEAT.

I suppose that’s fitting. “Asian Hotties” in New Jersey, that are “outcall only” are pretty much meat, yes?

And at $120 typical rate, it’s pretty much a meat market, yes?

Thanks for the image submission from New Jersey massage parlor GentlemenSpa.com

Another submission from a male reader. I love reading these. I honestly do not know this perspective of my business, and I learn every time you write to me. Thank you Alan for rwriting/editing for my blog! Missy

Today was an amazing day for me. A massage parlor day, and it reminded me of Missy. I don’t know Missy but I know who Missy is, and I have been looking for Missy in massage parlors for about 10 years. I think she is avoiding me lol.

I was in the airport at 8am with an outbound flight at midnight. Nothing to do. I know this area has asian massage parlors. It’s always had them. I remember reading about them here and there when they were busted. I never had time to try any. Now it’s almost 9 and I’ve done nothing. Will my whole day go this way? What a waste. I connected to the airport wifi.

First I checked eroticmassage.blogs.com and cuntlet.com but nothing was new, as usual. A few quick searches for “massage” told me the areas around the airport had been cleaned up recently. You know the way it is… the high-profile ads with fake pix are all hj places, and the independents are all too much money for too much negotiating (and ID checking). I needed one of those hole in the wall asian AMPs where I could show up unannounced, keep it below $200, and get over on a less than 35 year old for the full cycle of hobby engagement. How to find one?

I read trough the backpage ads. No luck. I could smell the typical “we have one really busy girl professional and one old mamasan – come in and get the mamasan!” ad didn’t want that to be my only experience. I looked at the paid MP review sites… yawn. All fake or outdated and basicaly useless.

Here’s one… sounds good, a few good reviews, and stands alone in the area. I noted the address. That’s be my “sure thing” — an AMP experience at least, where I either  spend $60 and get the basic experience or take advantage of opportunity should it arise.

And then I hit gold. A report of a petite vietnamese at a tanning salon, with a one star performance. No way! First, I don’t believe there is a legit vietnamese tanning business anywhere. Second, if there is a petite vietnamese girl in a tanning business near here, I bet I can get over on here for less than $200, and I bet I’d consider it 3 stars at least. Game on!
I drove to the “day spa” that was to be my sure thing AMP experience. As I pulled up, there was a mamasan smoking outside. House dress, make up looking like it was left over from last night’s Soju party, and fuzzy slippers. Ugh. This is not going well. I still walked up and as I approached the front door, grandma went into the side entrance. She greeted me.

“Who’s working today”, I asked.

“Me”, she replied.

This was all wrong. I was not going to be shy… I had other options.

“No one else?”

“One girl.. there she is. She busy right now”

I saw a mid-weight 28 year old exit a room with a handful of tissues, in a hurry to get to the bathroom. Probably anxious to wash the stickies off her arms. The place was dark and damp. I passed.

I headed over the the area of the Vietnamese Tanning Salon. I had never been to a tanning salon before. I’m not the tanning salon type. I had considered the AMP my “sure thing” because I had no idea how to manage a tanning salon experience, and had little faith it would be what I wanted.

I found it on a small quiet back road, behind a Burger King. The sign said “tanning” but it was a dump. I doubt anyone looking for tanning would go in there. It was my kind of place.

I went in and it had one of those false entrances where you could see inside, but not get inside unless they buzzed you in. Promising. I rang the counter bell. A very little asian with a very big rack came around, wearing a very tight cocktail dress.

“You want to come in?” she asked, stupidly.

Wow. She couldn’t have been more than 80lbs wet, and I was  pretty certain she was a least a little bit wet somewhere.

“Yes” I stuttered.

She was indeed vietnamese, about 30, with the body of an enhanced 20 year old. No tranning bed in sight, just a massage room. Asked to pay the $60, I paid $200. She stated, rather than asked, “you been here before.”  I answered “of course, that’s why I came back”. She smiled.

About 8 minutes later she was before me sans cocktail dress, and apparently sans any clue as to what I expected. My guess at that point was she’s new, she think’s I’m a regular, and she doesn’t really know what I expect from here but she is prepared to deliver whatever it is. This, I thought, is perfect!

Over the next 30 minutes I did whatever I wanted, and she reciprocated nicely. Around the world, with a few side trips, and I genuinely couldn’t believe my good fortune. Trim, tight, fresh, compliant, eager to please, and all mine. Not much English at all, and a new kind of whimper I had never experienced (this was my first vietnamese experience). Does she like it? Is that a cry of desire or despair? Am I going too long, or not hard enough? This was not an easy read, but there wasn’t any effort to resist or change things, so I figured I must be doing ok.

After a while I couldn’t tell if she was close to coming or close to losing patience with me for my not coming yet. So I pushed things forward a bit. If she’s close, this should get her there.

Oops… turns out, little Lulu was actually out of patience and overheating. Apparently she’s used to the quick pops. We shared a little eye contact and reset, struggled through a little Engrish, and I assured her “just one more position” and I’d finish up… which I did. It was amazing. If she hadn’t let me know she was overheating, I’d have sworn on my aunt’s vibrator she was on the edge of coming all that time. Chalk it up to cultural differences.

And the best part for me – once finished, her demeanor shifted dramatically and she was all smiles, all about making me happy. She even assured me that “next time”, she’d be more prepared to last for me, so I could really enjoy her more. Imagine… aiming to please like that. This is not your typical amp experience! I left there a changed man.

There has been a major change this year from the past. I’ve been working in massage parlors for too many years to admit, and running them for half that again. I’ve never seen this before. Not that it’s bad; it’s actually good for you guys and massage parlor loving girls out there.

I’m talking about the kind of girls coming to work in the parlors these days. Very different.

Back in the 90′s we younger massage girls were pretty wild. Either over bright (like me) or over dumb (like most of my friends), but not in between. Party animals got into massage as a place to hide during the day, pocket insane cash, and find guys willing to cater to the party girls after hours (in other words, be our stupid cash resource for drinks, coke, and bottle service). The “off” girls, or “garbage” girls were crazy or cast into the massage girl role. They just considered it work for hire. Everyone had to have a job, right? There were no “normal” girls. Regular girls did not work in massage parlors.

I am not talking about Asian escorts, but Asian massage parlors (AMPs). The escorts have always been a diversified bunch. Lots of college girls, international displaced girls, wives of business men, etc. And sometimes we’d get girls hiding in massage parlors, when they had a bad situation to get out of and needed cash. Most over-40 massage girls were like that, hiding from husbands and extended families.

But that was rare. In places like Atlantic City, I had lots of coke friends in the massage parlors. But Atlantic City was not the usual. When a pretty girl gets hooked on coke and stuck on the party life, she may choose to “recover” from her party night by crashing in a friendly massage parlor, with her friends. She can pick up a customer or two without pressure, to make the landlord happy, and for a few hundred bucks of recovery money. I know that route, honey. I lived it for years.

But the work force of Asian massage parlors was working girls. Pros. Today, I’m seeing a move towards “family girls”.

Family girls come from nice families, with nice backgrounds and good neighborhoods. They are clean and natural, not hardened emotionally or dolled-up Hollywood style. They are “the Asian girl next door”. As far as their “regular life” goes, they go away to “visit a friend” in another city for a week to 10 days, and then come back. They turn off their “real” cell phones, and stay away from the connected life while they are working. The family doesn’t know they are actually working in a massage parlor, handling 6 customers a day for 10 days to clear several thousand in cash.

I know who reads this blog, and it’s not those family members. So you guys (and massage-girl-loving women, since there are a lot more of you these days, too) should like to know this. These girls are cleaner, nicer, and more natural. They are willing and enjoy their work more than most pros do. They are also “less dangerous”.

I just said good bye to “Lemon”, who came from New Jersey. She was Korean, 23 years old, and quite beautiful without make up. She was all natural. If I met her in a club I’d call her a virgin, because of how she behaved. She may have never experienced harshness yet in her life, because she was so open and nice. Lemon told me she chose her stage name “since Lemon’s are tart, and when I’m here, I’m a tart”. Imagine that! I doubt I ever met a single Korean who knew what “tart” meant at all. I bet even Lemon doesn’t really know.

It’s almost as if she respects the profession that currently is paying her bills and funding her future. When did that change happen?

Lemon started 10 days ago. She flew in, came direct to meet me here in the massage parlor, and wanted to meet everyone else. She wanted to know “which room was hers” until I taught her the rotation. She didn’t ask me anything about “inside the room”. Good girl.

Her first customer was a regular who always stayed at least 15 minutes overtime. He was a pain in the ass, but a good customer. He always wanted more, no matter what he got. He was a clinger. But with Lemon, he was out in 35 minutes, very happy. How did that happen? Lemon said he was “cute” and “so nice”.

Her second day she saw 9 men, and made everyone happy as far as I could tell. During the time I knew her she was never rough, never dirty, and never brought any of her business outside of the private massage room. And now, 10 days later (about 65 men later on the massage parlor calendar), she hugged me goodbye, thanked me sincerely for “taking care of her”, and didn’t offer any suggestion of ever seeing me again. It was simply understood that she came, and now she’s going.

I’ve learned that she charged less than the pros, and was more open-minded than the pros. She smiled always, and granted every customer the benefit of the doubt. She must have worked hard, although I never saw her sweat. Of course I did check out her body (I have to do that before they can work… you would be surprised what lies under some clothes, and my customers need to be protected). She was young, healthy, fit but not trim nor fat. Very very clean, and perfectly balanced. That last part.. balanced, is the give away. Most edgy girls are uneven.. something is always out of balance. It might be uneven titties, or mismatched nipples, or bony hips or stringy legs or one eye tilted, or one leg slightly longer than the other. My long time friend Annie said Lemon was a “perfect girl” because she looked ready to make a baby. That’s a good way to put it. She wasn’t a “perfect 10″ like a model, but she was the kind of young woman you would want to make children with. No flaws.

In May I had 2 of these girls, out of California. In June I had one from Canada, and now Lemon from New Jersey. All the same characteristics. They need money, don’t have good jobs available to them, and don’t want to make big commitments. Massage parlor work seems to fit them, and they come and go as they please.

Good luck in the hobby everyone, and be nice to these girls. If we are lucky, some will stay in the profession and replace the aging pros who have become so cynical and edgy. If that happens, life will be good for everyone involved.

This story came in from a reader.  Thank you for that  – Missy

I met May last week at the new massage parlor. It’s one of those mirrored window places, the kind that everyone knows is not going to last very long. I went in and of course said I had been there before. I got May.

May was a bit odd. She is older but not past 45, and heavily made up. She greeted me with a friendly chest bump, which I thought was very strange. Her 5 foot frame meant her chest bump was more like a dry hump than a bump. She did again… a few times in rapid succession, while saying hello. It was like I was being dry humped by a Korean massage girl. I laughed. She aid “one hour” and I reached into my pocket. As I did, she pulled down her panties and tossed them to the side.

She was wearing a mini dress, so the removal of the panties didn’t make any real difference. I didn’t see anything except the panties get removed and tossed aside. But the idea of it — that she didn’t need them for a one hour session, was very strange. I wondered if I’d start to smell her.. and then I realized that was stupid. She told me to lay down.

About 45 minutes of crappy massage with too much oil, with a not-very-lightweight May riding on my back. Did I enjoy the no panties feel? Sorry. I was too stressed about the way she was sliding up and down my back with her ass, because it hurt. This lady had no grace about her. At one point she bumped up and down like a kid playing cowboy. Very very strange.

On the flip May started to handle Mr. Johnson and got his full attention, and then she slipped to the side of the table and pulled up a chair. She was looking straight at him, massaging him up and down, and I sat up to try and understand just what this crazy Korean was thinking. Her eyes were fixated on the Big Guy, while sliding her hand up and down, up and down. She leaned into the table, pressing her chest against it. I reached down and she pressed into the table harder, as if to block my access to the titties.

“I have a complex”, she said. Wow. I’ve never heard any Korean use that word. “A complex about my breasts”.

May then told me a long and detailed story of her battle with breast cancer, her surgery (which left scars she was hiding), and the subsequent spiral crash of her life. First cancer, then doctors. Medical bills, and distracted attention from the family business. A husband who couldn’t accept her “disease” and who just wished she would either ignore it or make it go away quickly so life could go back to normal. A cancer care system that adopted her and treated her like a person, teaching her about her health and how she could choose to fight the cancer.

May told me of her friends at Cancer Center, the chemo and radiation, the hair loss, the sickness, and the close bonds she formed with the others who also had become isolated from friends and family, but were also becoming enlightened about how they did have some influence over what happened to them.

I learned May is a survivor, now fully clean of cancer as well as any other germs that may have once lived in her blood before it was assaulted with radiation and hazardous chemicals. I learned that May divorced her “Korean man” husband, because he “didn’t really care about her and was stupid”. I learned that her family business failed, and she lost everything, but “survived her life”. I also learned that, according to May, the drugs made her crazy in the head (and still do). May says she’s almost done with the drugs… one more month. She doesn’t know what will happen next, but she has a different life now. What could she do for money? She heard about this work, and she was previously trained in massage as a young woman so she could get a job doing massage parlor work if she wanted.

May says she always knew massage girls to be dirty. It was not a respectable life. But in her craziness and separated from everything she knew, she tried it to try and make money. “No sex stuff for me” she says she told the boss. Just good massage. The boss said no problem, you can do what you want.

“That was 3 weeks ago”, May told me as she continued to stare at the head of Mr. Johnson, stroking up and down slowly with well-oiled hands. “I never did intercourse”, she asserts. “But I want to try oral”.

I was more intrigued than aroused, but her handiwork kept him firm. Then she looked at me instead of him.

“All my life I know just one dick”, she said. “Just one dick. Now… so many dick!”

I kid you not. This is my report from the field.

May described for me her 3 weeks in the massage parlor. She started massage only, no exposure. She didn’t make any money. Then she met a “very nice man” who taught her how should could understand her customers, and define options for making money, controlling things. He showed her the turn over and happy ending process, and she started to make money. And she started to see dicks.

“So many dick”, as she recounts the experience. “Big dick. Long dick, all kind of dick”. She was very interested to see them, and now likes to handle them and see how they react to her hands. She told me she likes to see them cum, but says many times she tells the guy to do it himself. She wants to do oral, but isn’t ready yet. “Maybe this week” she said. “I want to try. Someday I do intercourse, but not yet”. She then told me to finish myself.

No, May, not this time. I took the opportunity to show her yet another way a customer could get relief without oral or intercourse, and she thanked me for that training at the end of the session. “Now I know one more way”, she said.

As I continue my own undercover(s) investigations, I would like to remind my friendly gentleman out there that there is a lot of fun to be had in the hunt.

Little girls today are as dumb as can be. So stupid. I can’t believe it.

Ten years before a girl had be smart to survive. Now you can survive as stupid. Real stupid and still survive. I don’t know.

I went to Portland and went with handful of very stupid girls. They have money from being so stupid, but will not last long. Their bodies are ruin. They are going to be dead soon, before 40 for sure. Maybe 30 if thats 9 years from today. To be honest, they will need special underwares if they get old because they can’t hold theres inside any more. They sold there bodies to cheap. They are to eazy and to stupid.

I am disgust right now with stupid girls. Sorry for that guys. I love good customers and I see good girls in those taking care. But ugly is there to. Ugly in customer and also the girl. Today is only ugly. 20 years and busted up just from taking money. So stupid. Away from home and so stupid, no one to slap them hard.

Sorry for my english today guys I am tired and no help writing today. The next time you pay to go back side please pay enough to cover doctor later okay? Stupid girls dont know what they do today.

San Diego is an interesting city. I’ve visited San Diego for many years, but never stay more than a few days. I have to confess I love the navy regulars but sadly they don’t usually know how to treat a lady like me. Maybe they are used to “real” Asian girls, and once they see I am “western” they assume I am an American borne Seattle-style Asian girl (looks Asian, but hasn’t a clue what it means to be Asian). No, not me. I’m half Asian but my Asian half is very, very Asian!

Anyway San Diego has this culture of BigWhiteGirls (American) and LittleBrownGirls (Latina). Guys here seem to like broad shoulders on their blondes. I am a bit intimidated by women who stand nearly 6 feet tall and are broad shouldered. But I am not at all like the Mexican ladies, who are often from other nations further south than Mexico. Sometimes I am asked if I am a Mexican Indian. I wondered why because I don’t look anything like a Mexican, and then someone showed me a picture of a southern Mexican Indian lady and she did look a little Asian.

I’m not here to work in a massage parlor, but am limited to a circle of friends this time through. Still, I find myself hanging around with girls who could be porn star blonds. It’s a bit awkward.

I hiked the trail down to the shore at the monument yesterday, and back up. I love that hike. It’s simple but in the early morning very very beautiful. It doesn’t open until a little later but I had a little special treatment. I was out before it was officially open to the public. Later I went over to UCSD to meet a friend, and we had lunch. The campus is very beautiful but not busy like I remember from last visit. We walked the nude beach but didn’t take everything off. Lucky for me I was wearing colorful underwear, so I just looked like I was in a bikini. My friend wore shorts and we didn’t see a single sex organ on the whole walk! That place has calmed down a bit.

Tonight we ate sushi at Japengo in the Hyatt. Really good. I went out onto the brick patio a few times for air. I really like that about San Diego. They leave you room to breathe, walk around, without going too far. They put like 4 restaurants right around each other, so when you tak a walk you run into people from the sushi place, the american grill place, the night club, etc. Could be a real mix, but tonight it was big blonde girls and one relatively little Amerasian chick. I’m not small, but I felt small.

I’ll be leaving San Diego but not before a night out with some massage girls tomorrow. My massage blog covered san diego massage parlors years ago, and I published a story of fire and ice massage centered around San Diego massage. Look for us somewhere between Costa Mesa and La Jolla. We’ll be the cute 6 pack of Asians drinking too much and laughing too loud, I guarantee.

Today I worked a real brothel, for the first time in years. Not a massage parlor, although the sign outside said MASSAGE with big, red letters. Inside, it was pure brothel.

You enter through a door that leaves you in an enclosed alcove. It’s basically a very small enclosed porch. As soon as you enter we get buzzed, and can see you through several one-way windows as well as a peep hole. The way it works (I was a temp worker, invited to stay with a friend who was running it for a week), is we look at you and decide who gets you. If you look over 40, Mimi gets you (she’s close to 60, but says she’s 40). If you look twenty, the young girl gets you. She’s the hired help, a real pro, and in her late twenties. Twenty somethings don’t have much money and last forever, so we make her take them all. Better she get sore than me, right?

If you look crazy, the cleaning lady answers the inner door. She is almost toothless and wrinkly, but she likes to jerk a man and make an extra twenty. Her sales rate is about 40% meaning about 60% of the time she answers the door, the guy decides not to come in. No crazies.

If you are fat, we argue about who has to take you. If you are strong and fit, June gets you. She can smell a cop a mile away because she was married to one (and still is, technically, because there was no divorce). If you are normal looking I fight to get the chance. Actually, I’m happy to take just 3 per day because I’m not much of a brothel whore to begin with. I’m just here to keep my friend company, stay active, and cover my bills.

Today YOU came in and I got you. You saw right away it was set up as a massage place, but I was wearing a sun dress with nothing else underneath. You saw that the massage table was built of massive lumber, able to withstand just about anything a 200lb guy could be doing on it. But even though you saw these things, you stayed quiet and let me go through the full massage motions before you touched me to let me know you liked the way I was bare underneath my thin dress. Dumbass. You wasted 30 minutes.

You then failed to communicate to me what you actually wanted, so we wasted another fifteen minutes in playful conversation that bored the shit out of me and made me wonder how you think you will ever have time to enjoy anything with just 10 minutes left on the clock. You are lucky I didn’t leave you there to relax for that last 10 minutes.

By the time you were open to communicating clearly, my answer to almost everything was no. No BJ. No full service. No back door, and no, I would not lick you there nor put my finger there. So you overpaid and under delivered, honey. Not my fault, but yours.

You see, that first time I stood next to the massage table and put my bush right next to your face, while I held you hand and stroked your back, you should have moved my hand behind my butt so the two of us could have gently eased my mid section in towards your mouth, so you could kiss me through my thin yellow chiffon dress. I would have responded with the right sounds, and lifted my knee up onto the table. Had you then turned over and slid up on the table just a bit, to drop your head over the edge, I would have lowered myself onto your lips and enjoyed a warm up. Who knows, your fingers may have ended up somewhere interesting, coming from the back side like that. And, if things were going well, I would have probably dropped forward onto you, so we were chest on chest on the massage table, positioning my mouth convenient to your “privileges”.

For sure I could have been yours today, for at least 50 of the 60 minutes. Better luck next time.

I have to say this is the most interesting development in our secret little society in years. I had no idea, but now I do. I knew about “private stock” and I knew about “friends with benefits” that you guys have been enjoying since several states cracked down on massage businesses. You all told me about that. But you never clued me in to this Seeking Arrangements thing. I had to read about it in the New York Times!

Sugar Babies for as little as $150 ?

According to the story in the Times,

if eHarmony or Match.com is a chatty social mixer, Seeking Arrangement is a down-and-dirty marketplace where older moneyed men and cute young women engage in brutally frank transactions. They’re not searching for longtime soul mates; they want no-strings-attached “arrangements” that trade in society’s most valued currencies: wealth, youth and beauty.

SeekingArrangement.com “now claims more than 300,000 registered members…Sugar babies outnumber daddies 10 to 1,… providing what one sugar daddy called ‘the best fishing hole I ever fished in.‘”

According to reports, guys are meeting ladies who need as little as $150 at a time. I can’t believe it! That’s a marketplace for private stock! Click the picture to go to the site.

Private Stock Sugar Babies for as little as $150 ?

Has anyone gone in and posted that they seek someone to provide weekly massage sessions via such a private arrangement? We girls are talking about this site now, and I can assure you many of them will be signing on for free and listing themselves for just that sort of “arrangement”. Click to go to SeekingArrangement.com

Business is slow, so I’ve decided to do some marketing. I would like to know what I have to do to make you come to my massage parlor. Please tell me in the comments, guys, if I want you to come, what do I need to do?

I will close comments in 4 days. Please reply now…