Rub a Dub Tug?

I reach over and turn on the tap. “You just lay there darling” I’d say, “it takes a bit for the water to heat up”. This was for the most part true, seriously the hot water took forever! But it was also a part of the ritual. I’d find myself staring at the bubbles as they circulated the sink, and began descending down the drain. A cleansing of sorts. Over time I’d find myself thinking about what I’d make for supper that night. Or if I’d remembered to pay a bill. Yes I enjoyed it, I wouldn't still be doing it if I didn’t. But the “after” part was always the “awkward” part. At least I found it that way. I did this all while wiping my self off, making small conversation and calculating the money I had just made that day in my head. It use to make me feel dirty. Now I own the word hoe. Hoes make money, money pays bills… I’m ok with that.

But back to oh yes…the money. Those red, and brown bills I loved so much. (I live in Canada our money is like a magical happy rainbow). It always came back to the money. It usually does. It’s why we stay, why we put up with so much. Don’t worry I’ll get to those stories. And trust me they’re some gooders for sure. I might even get to the guy that put the Lysol can in his ass. Yah they’re those types of stories.

Now what were we talking about… oh yah. The money! Two hundred, four hundred, six hundred. It was easy. Almost to easy. The most I ever made in a single day was thirty one hundred dollars. I had eleven massages. That day was exhausting. But so worth it. I took my family on vacation the following week.

If you asked me a decade ago if I’d be working at a massage parlour I’d probably have looked at you like you were crazy. And yet here we are 13 years later and I’ve probably jerked off more middle age dick then a male porn star but the odd part about it is, I actually like it. And.... I’m good at it. Imagine that.

Ok, Back to the money… no it’s not everything. Yes you develop great endearing friendships, companionships, even lustful crushes.Oh trust me there are some crushes happening. But Money, that’s how it started and and its usually what hooks us. Some people sell cars, others sell drugs. I give handjobs. Enthusiastic, super seductive handjobs, but still I give handjobs. Ok who am I kidding over time it became more then that, it was a seductive dance of sorts. A tease that one can’t just give up. Like a junkie with a needle in their arm. My addiction was a dick in my hand. And the finish was like a gold star for a job well done. A gold star that you sometimes washed off your chest. But a gold star none the less.… so how did it begin??

Well let’s get to that shall we.