May 31

My Friend the Sex Worker Pt. 01

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I’m just a regular guy. Nothing special about me. I’m married to a wonderful wife. I have a great kid in grade school. But my little secret is, I love fake boobs. I’ll get into how and why later. My wife hates the idea of plastic surgery, it’s not even up for discussion. I would never pressure her, that’s not who I am. But I am a guy with whom breast implants have become a bit of a fetish. So, secretly, I partake in the pleasantries of breast implants ‘hobbying’ in the sex industry.

One of my favourite things is going to strip clubs. So many girls, so many awesome conversations about getting her boobs done. The places I go allow contact dancing, and depending on the girl it’s usually okay to touch a dancer’s boobs. I love fondling enhanced breasts. It’s fucking amazing. Sometimes though, I want to go a littler farther than just a fondling during a lap dance. In my town, there are a decent number of erotic massage parlours. There two kinds. The most common are the dirty rub-and-tugs; I stay clear of these ones. The ones I go to are way more high-end. Way cleaner. And the girls are way hotter. Basically, the same quality girls you’d find at a strip club – only you’re both be naked and there’s a body slide. Oh, yes!

One night I was at the strip club. I stuck out. Didn’t see any strippers that seemed worth the time or money to get a dance with. When I decided to leave I was still horny for some fake boob action. I called ‘The Western’, massage parlour to see who’s working. I hadn’t been there before, but I’ve heard good things and the pictures of the girls on their webpage were mostly hot. The lady on the phone said it wasn’t busy and they had a bunch of girls available. I asked if any of them are enhanced, and she said two or three were. I felt like those were good odds, she said not to worry about an appointment and just come.

What struck me most was how ornate the place felt. I didn’t realize why it was called ‘The Western’. It’s dressed up like an old-fashion western parlour. Wood panel walls and a fake saloon bar in the corner. Kitschy, but I liked it. The music they were playing was totally out of place – some techno trance, instead of old-timey sheet-piano music. I would have admired that detail to add to the cheese factor.

There was no one in sight when I approached the front desk, so I dinged the old-school bell.

Few seconds later, I heard someone in high heels approaching. This bright-eyed stunning woman comes from around the corner. She’s dressed in a period-appropriate corset, with curly hair and a tiny bowler hat. Her cleavage is spectacular. As amazing as her boobs are – I have no clue if hers are real or not. That corset would make any girls’ boobs pop out (and up!) like that.

“Hey sweetie. Do you have an appointment?”

“No, though I did call earlier. You said I wouldn’t need one because it’s kind of a slow tonight.”

“Oh right! James was it?” I smile and nod. She looks at something on the computer at the desk. It made me laugh seeing something so modern given the decor. “You were the one who said he specifically likes enhanced ladies, right?”

For some reason I’m suddenly embarrassed. “Yes, that’s me,” I said.

“You’re in luck, since you called one more enhanced girl became available. That’s five girls available and, most of them – well, three of them are enhanced.”

“Amazing. It’s a borderline fetish for me.” I can’t believe I just blurted that out to a stranger.

“Lauren just got hers done, and they look great. Alison’s super big. I’ll ask all five of them to come out for a meet-and-greet.” She picks up the phone, and presses a button. “Customer at the front.” She hangs up. Looking at me, she tells me “you can wait over there.” She gestures to the middle of the ‘saloon’.

I hear several sets of footsteps coming down a long hallway. Two girls enter together.

The first is an Asian girl who looks so young it makes me uncomfortable. She wears a simple lavender matching bra and panty set. “Hi, I’m Suki.” She reaches out to shake hands.

With her is a white girl with wavy ginger hair. She’s got big fake boobs, but they look kinda hard. To be honest, I barely got a look at her face. “Hi, I’m Alison” she says.

As they leave, another girl comes in. She’s got a Latina vibe going on. Long, dark wavy hair and caramel skin. She has nice boobs, but hard to tell if they’re real or enhanced. It could be either way. She takes my hand, and rubs it on her cheek – it’s surprisingly sensual. “I’m Vanessa – nice to meet you,” she says with a strong Spanish (or Portuguese?) accent. Then she kisses me on my cheek.

Next it’s an early-20’s smoking hot blonde. She could be an Instagram model. She has a huge smile, and wears a school-girl outfit. She bounces over to me. I note that she’s wearing sneakers, which is pretty cute. With an Aussie accent, “Hi there, I’m Sydney” I laugh. I thought Suki was a little on the nose for the token Asian girl. Now we’ve got an Aussie who goes by Sydney? Hilarious! Her boobs are on güvenilir bahis point. She has a petite body, and you can tell her boobs are fake. They’re not huge. I’d say they’re ‘well proportioned’. Probably feels amazing. But only a C-cup I’d wager.

I wait.

In all the excitement, now I wonder if miscounted. Was that five already? Sydney was probably the hottest, but she had small boobs. Maybe that Latina girl? Alison is definitely fake, and hers could be fun given how big for her body they are. But I prefer it when they’re soft. Again, the novelty of fake boobs is sometimes all I need. But I seriously can’t remember her face – was she even hot?

The receptionist comes back. “I think there’s one more girl. Hang on, honey, okay?” She picks up the phone, “Lauren, come to the front.” Oh good, I remember that name – she said hers were new. I kinda like it when they’re new.

From beyond a door I hear frantic footsteps approaching, the door bashes open and comes Lauren… only… Holy fuck. I know her.


“Hi! Holy shit.”

The receptionist pipes in, “you two know each other?”

‘Lauren’, or as I know her, Chandler, responds without losing eye contact with me, “we do!”

We’ve worked together twice, and run into each other at networking events. We met when I cast her in a boring corporate video I directed. Later, I got to work with her again in one of my short films. I don’t know Chandler very well. Other than those occasions, we mostly interact on social media. She’s an incredibly talented actor… and hot. In fact, it’s almost been a curse for her – because she’s so beautiful, she only ever gets roles like ‘the hot best friend’ or the like. But she’s way more talented than that.

I’m almost speechless, but somehow I manage to say, “This is … this is quite a surprise.”

The receptionist steps over to us. “I’d suggest the two of you step over there, and just talk.” She gestures to a booth with stained glass windows, about the size of … in fact, it may have once been a police box. “In there you can speak in private.”

So, we go in and Chandler closes the door. She begins, “okay, so I never thought this would happen, meeting someone I know.”

“It’s a first for me too” I assure her. “Let’s get one thing clear – I will not disclose to anyone that I’ve seen you working here.”

“Of course, and obviously – all of this remains here. Nobody knows I work here.” She’s super calm.

Suddenly I remembered something… this is Lauren… Lauren is who the receptionist said has new boobs.


New boobs?

She was already well endowed.

I take a second to mentally prepare myself, and I look down.

“Holy shit,” is all I could say. They’re huge. How did I miss those when she first greeted me? She’s always had amazing breasts. And, when she dresses up, she’s not afraid to show them off. You know, always with the plunging neckline and the like.

It’s at this moment, I realize she hasn’t posted anything on social media in a while. How long has she had these?

Chandler looks embarrassed. “I know.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised. You were always fighting against the ‘hot girl’ role. This is going to…”

“I know! It’s… it’s kind of a long story.”

“I would love to hear it. I’m dead serious. I actually…” I pause. I was about to blurt out to her about my thing for fake boobs… which is not something I tend to tell people. Well, I’ve told plenty of strippers and masseuses. But no one in my ‘real life’. No friends, and definitely no colleagues. But this is a friend, and a colleague!

She senses my nerves. “Here’s the deal, there will be no hard feelings if you don’t want to go with me. I will be totally okay with that. What goes on in those rooms is very intimate – and outside of here we do not have that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, and I don’t want to fuck up our friendship – or our working relationship.” I’m not sure what else there is to say. Damn, I’m tempted.

Turns out, she must have read that on my face and she asks, “And yet?”

I’m frozen.

Before I say anything more, she continues, “If you want to, I think we’d be okay. There’s the world outside of here, and there is the world inside here. I feel like we’re both emotionally intelligent enough that we can have a good time in the room, and still be professional out there.”

“Full disclosure, if I didn’t know you, you’re who I’d want to go with, without question. Umm… you see…” Again, I freeze up. I was about to tell her that I tend to only go with girls with fake boobs. But, I’m embarrassed again.

She nods understandingly. “Here’s an idea: what if we act like we don’t know each other?”

I consider that for a moment. “Huh. That’s very interesting. Like, we pretend?”

She nods. “Ya, roleplay. I could be anyone you like, and you can be anyone you’d like”

“Okay… okay.” I have this sudden brainstorm: “I’ll tell you what I’d like to roleplay… and I know you’d be good at this, türkçe bahis because you’re an excellent actor. I’m rambling. Here goes, I’d like to be me, James, and you be, well, you… But, this-me has a crush on you. Aaaaaaaand, you have always had a crush on me too.”

She hardly misses a beat, “That’s going to be easy for me… because, to be honest, that’s kind of true.”

I stare into her eyes… is that true? Or is she performing? I honestly can’t tell. Maybe, that doesn’t matter. Screw it. I’ll go with it. It’s true.

She smiles at me, kisses me, then opens the door for us to step out. I follow her to reception, to whom Chandler tells “If he changes his mind, I won’t be offended. But I’m comfortable taking him as a client.” She looks back at me, “see you James.” She blows me a kiss and winks, then disappears out of sight.

After it sounds like she’s out of earshot, the receptionist says, “Hey honey, so, you wanna go with Lauren?”

“I do.”

I pay, in cash. Then, as she escorts me to a room she tells me, “You take a quick shower, and she’ll be right with you.”

So, I do the shower thing. I dry off, and then sit on the massage table. I drape the towel over my lap and wait. The wait is excruciatingly long. Actually, it could have been only a minute. But it felt like an eternity.

Finally, she comes in. She’s wearing a black robe now, one that covers her body. She carries a bunch of extra towels, plus a bottle with oil. She sets things down, and then goes right over to the sink and turns on the hot water. She gets the oil bottle, and runs it under the water. “Just going to wait for this to warm up. So, tell me, do you have a crush on me? Like, for real?”

“Heh! Um, ya, kinda. I mean, I’ve always thought that you’re stunningly beautiful. And… I’ve perhaps had a naughty dream or two that features you.” Oh wait, wasn’t I supposed to be roleplaying? ‘Cause, that’s actually true. “Hang on, my mind is swirling. I have questions. Like, how long have you been doing this?”

She laughs. “About a month now. I’m enjoying this way more than I ever expected.”

“Really, eh?”

“You know how seriously I take acting, right? Well… this whole industry, the sex industry, I’ve come to realize… It’s all performance. You know my first love is theatre, right? I mean, I love film, and I’m really proud of the work we’ve done together. Even the corporate video wasn’t horrible. But, theatre has that immediate and direct connection to the audience. You’re in the same space, so you can feel them laugh, you can hear them cry. The emotions are a two way street. But here… in this venue, even though it’s an audience of one – it’s intense.” She leans on me. “It’s more intimate” She gets closer to my face. “This is way more intense than any play or movie can be. It’s real. It’s vulnerable…” She puts her hand on my lap. Then moves her hand down between my legs, inching under my towel. “Very vulnerable.” She takes her hand away and walks back to the sink with the running water. “And, I love it. I love it more than I ever thought I would.”

My mind is about ready to explode now. But, I have to admit, as I tell her, “That… totally makes sense.”

“And you know what else?” She collects herself. “Okay, you’re the first person I’ve told this, but I love getting men off. Getting men off, gets me off. It’s totally cyclical. It’s like theatre, but more than theatre.”

“Well, when you think about it, the reason we perform is to arouse a response. Though in this case … the word arouse is… a little more literal than normal.”

She laughs, but then gets serious. “But it’s the right word! We tell stories and we share ourselves to, well, to arouse. And in this situation, it’s such a visceral response. Honestly, I can’t wait to get you off. And I’m going to go more than once.” She turns off the water, and then comes over to me, back into my personal space. She looks me right into the eyes. “So…”

She unties the robe, and it falls away. Underneath she’s wearing a very simple black lacy bra and panties.

“Um… so, about these…” I refer to her magnificent breasts. What blows my mind is, they are so large, and I mean way larger than any natural breast could be on a girl her size. And yet, their shape is natural. It’s hard to believe that something that I both know to be fake, and the size could only be fake… somehow still looks natural.

She looks a touch embarrassed, “I know. They’re kind of ridiculous, aren’t they?”

“Maybe? But here’s the thing… kinda love really-really big. You have to go a lot bigger to be ‘too big’ in my books.” I’m usually pretty good at estimating a girl’s bra size. I don’t think this bra has any padding, and her boobs aren’t super pushed up. Certainly more than DD. Maybe E? Perhaps F? “Sorry, I just got lost in thought about what bra size you are.”


“I’m going to say they’re an E cup? But if you told me they’re an F, I would believe you”

“I’m impressed.” As she speaks, she slowly güvenilir bahis siteleri drags her fingers around her breasts, down in her cleavage. “This one is a 36E, but most of my bras are 34F. I didn’t know you were such a boob man.”

“Certifiable. As delighted as I am with the new additions here… and believe me, I am mesmerized, but for the actress who wants to be cast as more than just ‘the hot girl’…”

“So, ya. It’s a long story. How about you lie on your stomach, we’ll get started, and I’ll tell you all about these things.”

I do as she says, I get on my stomach. I’m a little awkward about the towel. I’m usually not too shy when it comes to being naked in front of a massage attendant… but because I know her… ya, it’s weird. Anyways, I manage to lay down and she sorta moves the towel such that it’s covering my butt.

“So, I met this guy at one of those industry events. Actually… You know what? I might have seen you that night. It was the festival wrap party, on King West?”

I instantly know what she’s talking about. Maybe two years back? It wasn’t an open bar, but my friend scored a bunch of drink tickets. Chandler was there that night, and she was wearing this amazing gold dress. She looked lavish, and so sophisticated. “I totally remember. You were in one of the films, right?”

“Oh god, that movie was so bad. The director was nothing like you. He could learn a lot from you. Anyways, this older guy approaches me. He says he produced one of the other films, and he’d love to take me out to dinner some time. I was like, no thank you – I saw the movie you produced, and… like… To be fair, it wasn’t super bad. But it was kinda unnecessarily pervey. I was floored when I found out it was a female director. Anyways, later, I meet a friend who was in that movie and she tells me he’s not a creep and is actually super sweet. He just likes being around pretty girls – which explains that movie. I basically forgot about him, until a few months later we run into each other at another event. Only this time, I’m working it.”

“Working it?” I ask.

“Catering. Some glitzy thing, and I was working for the catering company.”


“Anyways, we got chatting again and I can tell that my friend was right. He’s super sweet. When the event was wrapping up, he asks if I want to grab a drink after. So… I go meet him at this bar that I could never afford. I felt horribly underdressed. I was in jeans and a t-shirt, and everyone else was in formal clothes. But, he was super cool, and told me not to worry about it. He buys this super expensive bottle of wine and we talk the night away.

“Over the next few weeks, he takes me out to dinner a few times. Only I dress appropriately. But after no time, I ran out of expensive things to wear to these ritzy places. So, he takes me out to buy clothes, ‘so that I can feel more comfortable’, he kept saying. He takes me to these high-end fashion places, always telling me ‘it’s just so that you can stop worrying if you fit in and enjoy yourself more’. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. And, to be honest, I did enjoy myself more wearing these things. I can not tell you how much of a confidence booster wearing a five hundred dollar dress is.

“After a few more months of this he asks if there’s anything else that could be done so I can be even more confident. I tell him about these acting classes that I’m considering, because that would obviously make me feel better as an actress. Next thing I know, he’s paying for that. It wasn’t until this point that the lightbulb finally went off and I realized what was happening – I somehow became this guy’s sugar baby.”

As she’s telling me this, I’m kinda both loving the story – and inanely envious of this guy. I wish I could be that rich! I wish I could buy expensive things for pretty girls!

“I talked to him about it. I tell him I’m suddenly ashamed. But he’s like ‘Whatever, I’m rich.’ He tells me he’s been a sugar daddy before to other girls too. He told me he likes being around me, and that he wants to keep doing things that would make me feel good about myself. It took a lot of talking and thinking, but eventually, I realized what wasn’t right: he was doing all this for me, and I felt I wasn’t doing anything for him.”

By the way, her massage technique is actually really good. It didn’t occur to me just how stressed I’d been. Her fingers are cutting away the tension in my muscles. Back to her story, I point out, “You were doing something for him – you were giving him your company.”

“That’s almost exactly what he said. But it didn’t feel like enough. So he proposes that I do something for him. He was going to hire me for the services of an actor. He wanted me to put on a one woman show for him.” She puts on a ‘rich man’s’ accent and says, “‘I’d like to be entertained for an evening'” She laughs, “I’m like, seriously? But I was also intrigued.”

“So, what did you do?” I ask.

“I wasn’t sure how literal he was being. Is ‘performance’ a code for sex or something? If it was for sex, then no. I’m out. But if he actually meant put on a performance, like a performance-performance… then, I mean, sure? Out of nowhere, the idea came to me that I’d do a monolog for him.”

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