One of our free sexy stories by the delightful Olivia London. No one writes a blow job better!
It’s always the quiet ones who have moonlighting jobs, and even when you’re told about their double lives, it’s still hard to believe.
Melanie Trip was raised in a maelstrom of double standards–which is to say she was brought up Catholic. Why did every man of the cloth get his own fancy car when the nuns had to carpool in a rusty sputtering van? When a priest in her parish got arrested for sexual misconduct there was an outpouring of compassion before he was transferred to another community. What if a nun had been accused of the same crime? She’d be thrown out on her habit for sure, no passing “Go” to another cushy convent.
Perhaps it was a desire to even the score that made the world of FBST so enticing at first. By day she worked in a real estate office. At night, she sold Full Body Sensual Touch.
Maybe one day she could start a Catholic Woman’s empowerment group.
Mel’s phone interview took less than one minute and that included writing down directions to a secluded establishment in one of Seattle’s better neighborhoods.
“Do you know how to use a Crock Pot?” a husky voice asked.
“Um, yeah.” Melanie hoped she didn’t have to serve shepherd’s pie after a massage. She wasn’t much of a cook.
“Good, you’ll keep your hand towels warm in a Crock Pot. Got it?”
“Got it.” Thus Melanie got the job after acing the shortest interview in American history.
Unfortunately, Melanie was the least popular girl at Cheri’s Massage Parlor. She didn’t smoke, drink, take ecstasy, or give all her money away to a deadbeat boyfriend. The other girls didn’t trust her. It didn’t help matters that she always had a book in her backpack and would find a spot to quietly read till she was summoned for an appointment. Everyone–including some of her customers–thought she was a big ol’ □.
That was fine by Mel. She was just going to work there a few more months till she had enough money saved for grad school. She had ambition, something that was frowned upon back home, home being a backward swamp where if people saw you reading they assumed you had nothing better to do.
Mel neither liked nor disliked working at Cheri’s. Mostly, she tried not to think about it.
She was in a “non-thinking” frame of mind when she went to a bar after a long shift at Cheri’s. She’d allow herself just one drink and maybe one game of pinball. Then she’d leave.
When a gorgeous guy named Gavin took the seat next to hers, Melanie melted with a type of desire she had never known. It wasn’t just his looks; there are plenty of attractive men in town, despite what the single women at the real estate office said. To Mel, it was all about chemistry and a willingness to connect.
She poured her heart out and the man sitting next to her–a man who radiated so much of what her heart truly craved–listened. Really listened.
The true test came when she told him about her moonlighting job. If he judged her, then they did not have a destiny.
Gavin arched his brow. “Have to admit, I’m not familiar with FBST. Maybe you can come over to my place and show me the particulars sometime.”
“How ’bout now?”
She wasn’t about to let this luscious black-haired gent out of her sight. She wanted to jump him the moment she laid eyes on him.
They laughed when they had no trouble finding a parking space near his brick apartment.
“You brought good luck,” Gav said after kissing his eager blonde on the mouth. “I usually have to circle this block for thirty minutes.”
“Well, we’ll just pad that on to your FBST,” Mel said, giving Gav’s thigh a meaningful squeeze.
Gavin’s spacious abode was just what Mel thought it would be: wall-to-wall books with lots of clean surface areas. It was far neater than her humble digs.
After the requisite nightcap, Mel had Gav stretch out on his stomach so she could massage him head to ankles. She’d save an extensive foot massage for a later date.
Gavin murmured approvingly as she kneaded his muscles and soothed his masculine torso with a soft, abiding touch. She had to admit: she was good.
Finally, she had him turn over in a supine position.
“Normally, at this point you’re just entitled to a hand job,” she cooed while caressing his cock with almond-scented fingers.
She kissed his chest and shoulders. Kissed his face and neck. “But I’m horny and you’re here and you are absolutely, positively the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Gavin gasped in approval as Melanie pressed her mouth to his erection. How delightful after a relaxing back massage to experience the propulsive energy of deep throat ministered by a randy, giving female! She made love to his cock, letting her tongue lift and fall in graceful arabesques, her lips girding the base of his shaft until he was ready to come.
They never said another word about FBST. It was tacitly understood they were embarking on something grand, a special adventure of their own. They spent night after night together until Melanie quietly–but steadfastly–massaged her way into his life.