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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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"Welcome," said Joan. "I'll need you to fill out this form."
"Sure, yes, thank-you," said Emma.
Joan considered her patient. She was young, twenty-something. Blonde, freckled, curvy. She filled out the form with seriousness, knitting her brows together, leaning over the clipboard slightly, a hint of cleavage showing beneath her sensible blouse.
"There," she said. "All done," she smiled.
"Okay, then let's get started. Follow me."
Joan led Emma into a small room with a massage bed and a desk with neatly arranged oils and balms.
"Now, do you have any specific problem areas?" asked Joan, looking at the form. "It says here you're a teacher. Shoulder tension?"
"Yes, how did you know? I've been so stressed lately. So much marking."
"Well, we'll get it sorted out. Have you had a massage before?"
"Yes."
"Okay, so then you know the drill. Clothes off and between the sheets. I'll give you a moment."
"Great," she smiled.
She left the room and stood just outside the door listening to the sounds of her patient undressing. So, here she was, finally, a massage therapist. It had been work, but now here she was, three weeks into her new career, dressed in scrubs, overjoyed.
She whispered to herself, as she had every day since she'd started: "You've come a long way, girl." Just a few years ago, after she'd barely graduated high school, she worked at a juice bar in the gym across the street from the dingy apartment she shared with her mother. Still shared, she reminded herself. But, only until she could get enough money together to get a place of her own.
Her mother was a part-time waitress and a full time whore. She remembered coming home from school early one day to find her mother, absurdly bronzed, naked in the living room, her thick, worn body gleaming sweatily in the afternoon sun. The three of them, her, her mother, and a moustached man, froze in shock, his cock still in her mother's mouth. |
