“And that’s it?” I asked.
“Well, then there’s the obligatory hand-job at the end. So yeah, that’s it.”
I asked the waitress for another margie. Weight-loss be damned at this point.
“And, so, Mark, you’ve done this before I take it?”
He blushed. He actually blushed! “Yeah, I have a few different girls. I go about once a month or so. Look, I’ve talked to them. They can make an easy six to eight hundred a day.”
Well, shit, I thought. That got my attention. Mark kept talking.
“I mean, you wouldn’t quit your day job. You could work weeknights from like, six to ten. Get one client a day for five days and you could be making an extra grand a week.”
“So wait a minute,” I enquired. “How much is it for an hour?”
“Well typical is about 160 an hour. But I figure you could do 180 or 200 an hour.”
“Ha!” I laughed in his face. “I can barely get a date, and you’re telling me men will pay $200 for an hour with me?” This sounded absurd. I mean, I’m not ugly or anything. Really, I’m not. But I’m not that classic little Barbie doll that everyone seems to want, either. Two hundred bucks, yeah right.
“Patience. Pardon me for being upfront, but you’ve got an awesome rack! Plenty of guys would love to uh, well in the business it’s called ‘Mutual Touching’.”
“Huh?” I asked, flabbergasted. “How is that not prostitution? They do, what, touch my tits?”
Naturally, the waitress happened to come by with my margarita right at that moment. She awkwardly placed it in front of me and vanished, rather quickly.
“Sweetie,” Mark implored. “Keep your voice down okay? It’s part of the game. You can be topless, or naked. You make the rules, but there’s gotta to be some payoff for the guy. Usually, playing with and sucking of the boobs is standard. You don’t have to let anyone touch you… uh…” He blushed again. I didn’t help, and watched him struggle. “… uh… down there. You know what I mean right?”
“Let me get this straight. I massage a guy, he sucks my boobs, and I jerk him off, and he pays me $200?”
“Well, yeah. Except that, um, you can probably only ask $150 or so for just topless. $200 assumes nudity and some, uh, touching. But you can say ‘just on the outside’ if you want to. It’s up to you. Some girls do go farther and offer options like kissing, prostate massage.”
“Prostate massage?” I said, too loudly, again. Heads turned. I started again quieter. “You mean I stick my finger up his ass? You men are fucking weird!”
“You wear a glove. You charge more for it. I tried it once, but it wasn’t for me. My gal Tina tells me of a guy who buys a big black dildo each and every time. They aren’t cheap! But he can’t keep it anywhere in the house because his wife would kill him. So he gets one, has her anally rape him, and then he throws it in her trash can. She charges him an extra hundo just for that. But, again, it’s what you want to do, what you’re comfortable with.”
Mark sat back in his chair. “Look, I’m sorry to offend you. I just, well, it struck me that you have a great way with people, you’re always smiling, you’re a ‘pleaser’ personality type which is probably why your ex took advantage of you. But there’s a lot of gals in this business who don’t enjoy it, and the guys can tell. Trust me, when the chick isn’t into it, it’s hard for us to get into it. Okay not all guys, of course. Some guys don’t need much stimulation at all. But you, if you act all sweet, pretend you like them, share a little intimacy with them, you’ll get repeat customers. Probably so many you’ll have to turn them away.”
I looked at my margarita. It was half empty, somehow. I don’t remember drinking it. Mark was still going on about stuff.
“There’s an initial outlay, though. You’ll have to get a massage table, towel warmer, sheets and towels, lotions and oils. You’ll have to get some spiffy underwear, too. I can help you with all that but…” He didn’t finished and looked expectantly at me.
“But, what?”
“It’s hard for me to say this,” he began. He shifted in his seat. “Well, it’s like this. I can front you the money, but only if, well, only if you’re really into it, and not just maybe. And I’ll need to see for myself.”
“Well I haven’t decided just yet. I’m thinking it over, ya know? But if I decide to do it, I will be the best masseuse this town has ever seen!”
“I’m sure you will. But I’m talking about another outlay of maybe a thousand or so. I’ll need to make sure it’s a good investment, for me. I don’t want you to find out you don’t like it and pay me back ten bucks a month. Know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I get it.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Mark drained his beer. “Okay, here it is. Think it over good and hard. Today’s what, Monday? If you think you’re into it, then we’ll have a trial run on Thursday. Get yourself a good Brazilian. You know what that is, right? And you can pay for that with a credit card, yeah? Good. Then I’ll come to your place Thursday. I’ll show you how it’s done, what to do, what to say, everything. Then we’ll see what you think. If you do well, then I’ll put up the grand and get you on your way. Deal?”
I finished my drink. Sat back a for a few moments. Jerking guys off for money. This sounds ridiculous. It also makes me damp, I could feel it already. I thought about my future prospects, or rather, the lack thereof.
“Deal!”
I shook his hand. At the very least, I thought, I’ll get some spiffy underwear. And a Brazilian!
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