Happy Ending Massage, Happy Ending Day

Busy massage day today. Started with a bang, when a local city council woman came in and asked for me. Not sure where she got my name, but she asked for me and my mamasan BFF hooked her up with the first appointment of the day.

Powerful lady, all locked up in that tight little aging body. I did my best, and then she did her best to psycho-mind-move me into her erogenous zones. But I played innocent; blind to the obvious gay-dar. Clue to the powerful — I’m just a massage girl with talented hands and tongue (and feet, by the way). I am not a mind reader, and I won’t take responsibility for your needing what you need. That’s the courage you must find within yourself. I make it easy – I make myself available for a price well within your reach. All you need to do is ask for it, and that doesn’t have to be verbal. Show me. Tell me somehow what you want, and I guarantee you will be rewarded for your courage. And anyway, it’s way more fulfilling when you take the emotional risk and lay it out on the table.

I did let her know she should come back to see me again. As she strained helplessly to communicate her erotic desires to me with only her will, her body lying face up and her pubic mound obviously swollen in anticipation, I placed my palm against her lower belly and sat on the side of the table. I reminded her our time together was up for now, but that I sensed she had more stress under the surface, in need of release. I let her know I had after-6 availability as well, which she might consider. As I stood up from the table, I let the edge of my hand brush along her panty line, casually as if truly just lifting off of her belly. Sorry, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. if you hand me a pin and show me an inflated balloon, I won’t be able to stop myself from bursting it. Same deal here

So why Happy Ending, Happy Day? Ms. Achievement returned at 6, carrying a small satchel. She didn’t even check in with the desk – she acted like she had an appointment and came right into my room, closing the door. When I entered, she was prone face down on the table, with a towel over her midsection. Her cell phone was on the ledge with her bag. The bag had contained work out clothes, which were stacked neatly with sneakers already on the floor. She was naked, under the towel, ready for massage. Quiet. I said hello, and entered. Now I was hooked. This lady was hot to me, and we had a new game.

I walked over to the far side of the table, and sauntered past the back of her head placing my warmed hand onto her shoulder. As I continued walking down the side of the table, I dragged my hand down her back, catching the towel as my hand passed over her bottom. I continued towards her feet, and let the towel fall off the far end of the table over her toes. As I came around the front side of the table, my hand glided up along the outside of her thigh, up along her bottom, and softly up her back. As I reached her head again, I paused with my hand on her neck, my waist in front of her eyes.

She was staring to the side, right at the vee of my satin hip-huggers. My hand moved down her shoulder, to her arm, and dropped off of her and onto my lower belly. I began to massage myself, inches from her face. and I began to speak.

“I’ll start a massage, and get you relaxed”, I said clinically as I gently twirled the pubic hairs surrounding my clitoris, through the satin fabric of my pants. I was warm and she was close enough to feel it. I remained clinical with my voice, my hand clearly erotically involved with my soul. “I have been looking forward to getting off work today, as you can imagine. I’m so close now, I can feel the relief.”

Her eyes were wide but her face was tense. She truly didn’t know what was happening, but she was hot.

I lifted my fingers from the bottom of my inseam, pressing deeply into my pubis as I dragged the fingers upwards slowly. As I reached my little golden pebble I moved my hand off to her neck, and tranferred my warmth to her body. I bent over and leaned in to her face, letting my hair fall onto her neck and face, and I softly told her to relax, that I would take care of her, and she could close her eyes and enjoy. She did close her eyes, and I delivered a very simple, very effective hand release to this very pent-up and overly ambitious middle aged woman. She came like a kettle boiling violently on the stove top. It was obviously the first she had experienced in a long time, but we’ll change that after a few visits.

What I delivered was an anonymous hand release, preceded by intimacy. That’s what she earned by coming back so soon, and as we get to know each other, she’ll learn how to get whatever she needs from me. She tipped me generously, and I gave part of it back. She can’t buy me – she has to earn me.

I’m now enjoying a wonderful glass of very expensive wine, and I love the way my day is ending. The score for the armchair whores out there: 3-6-7-6-2

(3 sensual massages delivered, 6 massage sessions completed, 7 advances from customers, warmly horny tonight, and not at all disgusted with the human race)