This a true story about one of the hottest moments I had as a prostitute.

This morning I woke early for a massage appointment. A male massage therapist wanted me to act as if I was one of his regular clients, take the entire massage, and then it was understood he would deviate from the norm and touch my “breast tissue” and massage closer and closer to my crotch. He said he’s been looking for the right woman for this fantasy, but he hasn’t been able to fulfill it.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He told me he had tried other providers (that’s what they call the women in this arena; the men are called “hobbyists”) and they wouldn’t do a lot of things. They just wanted to offer themselves as a hole. They wouldn’t masturbate for him, play along, no kissing, no sensuality.

My fellow whores are kindof pissing me off. By offering their bodies and orifices in a mechanical fashion, they’re disrespecting their clients and disrespecting themselves, turning sex into something creepy. They are perpetuating the notion that men are just after fucking, when in actuality, they are craving the intimacy of foreplay and sensuality.

Anyway, I arrived at his office at 8am. He was big, bald, quiet, muscular. He took me to the massage room. It was as you would expect – dim, new age music, cozy, massage table. I asked him if he wanted to watch me disrobe or if he wanted me to act like a regular client, and he told me he wanted to step out of the room while I got ready.

I undressed and slipped under the sheets, facedown.

He came back into the room, and conducted an amazing, professional massage with sensual oil. It smelled faintly of cloves and a sheik’s tent. After 30 minutes or so of warming me up, relaxing me, thoroughly seducing me, he asked me to turn over. It was so hot to feel his hands get just a little too close to my crotch, but not touch. I wanted to grab his hands and shove them places, but I held back.

He was at my head and was massaging my shoulders, and he kept creeping down closer and closer to my breasts. Finally, I reached for his hands, and slowly moved them down. He handled my breasts and nipples expertly, so slowly and gently. As he did that, I slipped my hand under the sheets and put it between my legs.

I played with myself as he oiled and worshiped my breasts. It was so fucking intense I made myself cum easily. I made sure to be very quiet, since there were people right outside the door walking around and talking. They had NO idea that there was lovemaking going on behind that closed door, as opposed to the usual massage.

Yes, lovemaking.

My eyes were closed and he gently kissed my cheek, and I turned my head and kissed his. We found each others lips, and I gently caressed his shaved head, felt his hot neck. He kissed my neck, my nipples, all so slowly and sensually. He worked his way down between my legs. I parted them slightly and he nudged his way in, licking and kissing me with reverence.

God I felt like I was a sleeping beauty, and a masculine prince was sneaking into my dreams, having his gentle way with me, it was so surreal and hot. His methodical lapping brought me to orgasm again. I felt filled with tremulous peace, such an oxymoron.

I wanted him.

He shed his shirt, and undid his pants and stood by my head. His cock was so small and uncut, buried in his balls. I licked at it, coaxed it, and it bloomed. It grew big and hard. He stepped back and moved my ass to the edge of the table, put on a condom, and positioned himself at my ripe pussy. The whole thing was done in slow motion. He entered me, pushed his way in and out of me, my legs in the air. After a couple minutes he came, moaning quietly.

We came down. He withdrew, got dressed, tucked his shirt in, and with one last gentle kiss, left the room.

I dressed, opened the door. He stood there. I smiled and said, “Thank you. I’ll see you next time.” And left.

Fuck, I wish all massages went this way. And I got paid for it, too.