10 comments/ 53074 views/ 8 favorites The Fake By: adambishop (This is a reimagining of one of my older stories, hopefully for the better) * "Hey Samantha, how about you and I head around that corner over there and you get down on your knees and blow me?" Norman. The asshole. "No thanks Norm, how about you head around that corner over there and jerk yourself off." "Bitch, you don't have to play games with me, everybody knows all about that magic mouth of yours." Of course. I'm short with straight black hair, glasses and nothing special in the chest, I've always had to do things to get people to take notice. Unfortunately, you only have to suck one one guy off in the back of classroom one rainy day and everyone thinks you're a whore for some reason. "I'm not a slut Norm, and nothing of yours in going to end up in my mouth." "C'mon babe," He whined, "Give me a little suck and I promise I'll finger you afterwards." Norman is such a charming young man. "Let me get this straight: I get a mouthful of cum and in return you get to fumble around under my skirt? Not a great deal for me Norm." "Well, maybe we could go a date first?" "I'm not into you, really. Just keep some small scrap of dignity and move along." "I'm not taking no for an answer Samantha. Give me one good reason that I'm not good enough for you." "Well, I've already got a date tonight," I lied. "Great! Glad to see you surrender." "Not with you moron. I'm going out with a real man." "Ditch the cocksucker, once you get a look at my snake you'll understand why baby." He clearly wasn't intent on giving in. I'm kind of weak willed and was just about ready to give in and trade my mouth for a nice meal when I heard footsteps approaching from behind. "Hey Norman, fuck off and find your own. Tonight she's all mine." I spun around to get a look my potential savior. "Jennifer, you crazy bitch," Norman said to her, "What are you talking about? We all know you're a lez." "Very clever, now think: if I'm a lesbian and Samantha and I are going on a date, what does that make her?" Jennifer said to him while pointing at me. I was frozen in shock. Jennifer is one of the hottest girls I've seen at the university: tall, long red hair, shapely legs and perky breasts, and an notorious lesbian. I'm wouldn't say that I'm homophobic, but this was an awkward position for her to put me in, and I had no time to think of a way out. Reluctantly I put on a big fake smile and declared to Norman, "I haven't made up my mind just yet, but Jennifer is willing to show me the ropes." "For real?" Norman said beginning to grin himself, "Don't bullshit me Sam, I don't buy it." "Well, Samantha and I are heading off right in a moment, maybe you could tag along and get some evidence? If you can prove we're faking then I'm sure she will surrender and give you your precious five seconds of fun." "What? Seriously? Uh, right. Come along with us," I said, desperately hoping that this 'date' wouldn't instantly spiral out of my control. "So I either prove you wrong and get a blowjob or I get to see some girl on girl love? How could I refuse? Where are we going tonight?" "Trust me Norman, you won't be getting anywhere near Samantha's mouth any time soon," Said Jennifer with a wink, "And we are going to a little private club I know, that's all I'll say for now." I had the distinct feel of a noose tightening around my neck. The three of us took a cab deep into the city, well past the brightest and noisiest areas and into a quiet little nook I had never visited. From the outside there was no way to tell the building the cab stopped at was any kind of club, other than the two brutes guarding the entrance. Jennifer walked us to the door with confidence. The shorter of the two looked down at her, "Password?" He asked with a snarl. "The password is . . . delight. I'll be bringing two guests with me." He looked us over then motioned at Norman, "Who's the dick?" "As you say, just some dick. I'm allowed to bring a friend or two, right?" He frowned at Norman then looked at me, winked, and answered, "All right, head on inside." On the other side of the doors Jennifer stopped and explained to us, "This is a very private, very exclusive club. I'm very welcome and I think that I can pass off Samantha, but you had better keep your mouth shut and your hands in your pockets Norman." He sheepishly nodded. It was pretty damn dark on the inside and I had a hard time walking in a straight line. In a few seconds we approached a medium sized bar, there were several people serving drink and a handful of well dressed handful of customers in sight. I felt a little exposed standing there in my tube top and skirt. "It certainly looks exclusive," I blurted. "Oh It is, but not this much," Jennifer replied with a giggle, "there are always a handful of shows going down in the back. I think we will head into my favorite one." She silently led us through a curtain and into an even darker room. Inside there was a fairly large crowd seated around a well-lit central stage. In the middle of the stage on a hard steel chair sat an older woman with her hands bound behind her back. "Good, it looks like there is a show is about to start," Jennifer said with a sly grin, "How about we take a seat and enjoy the show." "What kind of show?" I asked. "The best kind. Follow me" We sat down around a table in a corner of the room and waited patiently. You could feel the tension running through the crowd, whatever was about to happen was bound to be something to remember. A few more minutes of silence passed without comment then out of nowhere a spotlight was pointed at the north end of the stage and a petite woman stepped up. From where I sat she didn't look like anything special and she was dressed conservatively. "Ah," Whispered Jennifer, "That's Tricia, but most of us just like to call her Little Miss Head." "What does that mean?" I asked. "Keep your little eyes on the stage and you'll find out in a minute." Tricia wandered across the stage to the center. The bound woman looked up at her with interest, maybe not sure what to expect. Without a word Tricia popped the other woman's breasts out the top of her dress then pulled off her bra. She then stood there and played around with the nipples in front of her until they were rock hard then stopped. With tantalising slowness Tricia knelt down and lifted the bottom of the other woman's dress, then raised her ass and dragged off the panties and tossed them aside. The older woman struggled in vain against the ropes binding her wrists together, it was pretty clear what was coming up next in this show. Tricia gently pushed aside the woman's knees and within seconds had buried her head between the exposed legs. I couldn't really make out the details, but whatever was going on down there must have been pretty damn incredible. In no time at all the bound woman was panting and desperately trying to escape. A little longer and she was gyrating her hips and letting out soft moans. I tried to keep one eye on Jennifer while I watched and now noticed her hand make it's way to her breasts, where she began to lightly massage herself and pinch her nipples. Then out of nowhere her other hand landed on my knee. I sucked in my breath in shock. As the woman on stage was ruthlessly devoured Jennifer's hand slid up under my skirt until she was tracing soft patterns on my inner thigh. I put one of my own hands on Jennifer's shoulder in an attempt to push her away, but she simply stopped playing with herself and instead grabbed my arm and held it against her own knee. The gentle fingers made their way higher still, and the short journey ended at the front of my silk panties, forcing the breath out of me in shock. I shifted in my seat, but the fingers remained in place against the fabric. The moaning on stage was getting louder and more desperate, Tricia moved faster and began running her hands up and down the woman's thighs. Between my legs Jennifer made her move. Her nails dragged against the front my panties, silently tracing the outline of my pussy lips. After a little of this one finger pressed forward, then stopped, it hooked around and dragged the panties sideways, revealing my sensitive skin to the cool air. I concentrated on the face of the woman being pleasured on stage. She was absolutely coated with sweat, her hair bouncing wildly around as her back arched again and again. I had never seen a look like the one she had at that moment, pure ecstasy. Two of Jennifer's finger made their way inside me, stroking areas that no woman had ever been, while the thumb rubbed against up my clitoris. I pulled loose of Jennifer's grip and grabbed onto the table in front of me, digging my nails into the soft surface. While I continued to watch the woman on stage lose control of herself I desperately tried to hang on and give no obvious signs of what was happening to me. Luckily the show was enough to keep the crowd distracted. Jennifer moved her head next to mine and whispered to me, "Enjoying the show? It's time for the big finish I think," Then her face made its way down beneath my skirt and a second later a tongue joined the assault on my pussy. With the combined efforts I could no longer hold back, with one had I grabbed a handful of Jennifer's hair while I covered my mouth to repress a scream of pleasure. A moment later a similar but louder scream came from the stage, followed by applause from the crowd. Jennifer continued to gently massage me with her tongue until the pleasure finally began to ebb away. As I sat recovering from my orgasm she came up and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "How was that?" She asked me. "I can't believe you just did that to me, you have one hell of a mouth on you!" "That was nothing," She replied with a smile, "I think maybe you need to have a turn on stage now." Jennifer waved her hands and pointed at me, and the spotlight followed. "Believe me, I'm nothing compared to Little Miss Head." The Fake Massage Therapist I suppose you could call me a voyeur, lord knows a peek down a lady's blouse or a flash of panties by accident will get me up and going in two seconds flat. But peeking into windows or taking photos up some woman's dress can get your face attached to a telephone pole so I repressed the urges. One thing I do for my own pleasure is go for a massage every week. Even the ones who are strictly legitimate are nice, and every once in awhile I can find a gal that actually likes to do a bit extra. Those are heaven, it's a damn shame they are few or far between. Oh, there is always the sure thing, reach deep in the jeans and hand over a couple hundred and the gal will grab your knob and go for it. But those are always rushed and they don't have a clue about bodies, emotions, touch, all of the things that make a session magic. So I am not only a voyeur, but a predator, too. I will often spend a dozen or more sessions with a target, getting to know them, developing trust. Then eventually they are doing more and more, and about one out of 10 or so will finally break down and go for it, all you need to do is catch them at the right moment. That is where I got the idea! Patty, one massage therapist I knew was also a teacher, and she needed a subject for one of the classes she ran on the side. "Continuing Education" she called it. It seems she had five students that had graduated from her class, and she ran an extra class at her home office to teach them to deal with everything from the jerk phonecalls to business matters like dealing with the hints, comments, all the things guys do. That was when it hit me that I wasn't alone in the little games I play, a lot of the therapists I thought I was happily manipulating were very busy manipulating me! Patty's class was neat, because as she explained it to me, my job WAS to be the jerk on the table. I was to make little comments, and Patty would explain a proper response, she even had a pair of phones set up and I would "call" for the first appointment. The student would get to hear me say things like, "I really have a lot of trouble with my upper thighs" or "I hope you don't mind if we don't use a drape, those irritate me." A cool one was "Is your massage like Dotty's?" one of the very well known local hand job artists. (One I had been to many times but I denied of course.) I even got to lay on the table and do the little flip of my dick to whatever side the therapist was standing on as soon as her back was turned. (That one is stupid guys, do it and you lose..LoL.) Another neat one was the tug on the sheet to "accidentally" expose my stuff, then apologize. Hell, that was fun, I was laying there with five female students watching and when Patty turned her back to reach for the oil, out came my package magically, getting giggles from everyone as Patty turned back and I went, "Oh! I am SOOOO sorry!" I loved those sessions, and the funny part was afterwards they all sat around and talked, not one of them even bothered in the least that a naked man had just exposed himself to all of them. With a full blown boner! Classroom, normal stuff. Learning and all of that. Hell, several of them even handed me the ever-present business card, asking me to give them a try sometime. Talk about an inside track with the ice already broken! I had me a deal going on and I was loving it. But all of that did do one thing for me. I knew about how to give a massage, how to act, and I had combined tricks of probably no less than 50 massage therapists to draw from. It hit me that I could do that myself. So I bought a portable massage table, got some nice Almond oil, cut some sheets up and sewed the corners with some stretchy material to make bottom covers. I even bought a nice little over the shoulder carry case. The only thing I was missing was a license. Minor complication. I signed up for one of those telephone message services, smart enough to not use my home phone number. Then I rad an ad in the health services of a local paper known for running other ads that were, shall we say, a bit sexy? "Quality massage for Ladies only, or Ladies in a couples scenario" it read. I sat back to wait, drooling at the idea of getting my hands on some female flesh. I knew I could give a better than average massage, and that combined with being reasonably good looking and a pretty good set of manners, I figured I would be looking at tits and bare behinds regular as clockwork. A week went by before I got my first message. I hit the button and a male voice said "Hey, do you work on guys?" I deleted that one, the next one was the same. By the second week and some dozen or so calls from men, some of them outright assholes, I was getting discouraged. Then I hit the message button, ready to delete when this soft female voice said she would like to talk about my service, and she gave a phone number. Hell, I dialed the number instantly, it even popped in my head that I should brush my teeth first, I was all excited. I managed to calm myself, the line rang and her soft voice came on. "Hello?" "Hi, I am Dan, returning your call regarding a massage?" "Oh, hi. I am Lori, I was wondering about your rates and appointment times?" Rates? Shit! I never even thought about that part. "Sure. My schedule is pretty open, I only have four bookings this week." I lied. "What time were you thinking?" "I was hoping for this evening." she said. "Let me check." I waited a few seconds. "OK. I am free from 6 PM on. My introductory rate is just $20. I am trying to build a business." I added. "6 is good." She gave me the address, I hung up, happy as a clam in butter sauce. I pushed the next message. "Hi, my name is Diane. I am just in town today and tomorrow, please call me back." I called her and booked her for 9 PM. Wow! Two in one evening! I spiffed myself up, loaded up my gear and right at 6 PM on the dot I knocked on the door. It opened, here stood a woman, perhaps 5 feet tall and around 300 pounds. "Hi, I am Lori! Are you Dan?" I sighed, set up my table and had her get ready. My first massage, my first try at giving one and I was working on a gal that tested the quality of my table. I was thinking that I was glad I had paid the extra $100 for solid Oak legs. But it was still OK, I worked on her back and legs, then had her roll over, being careful with the draping. I did cringe when the table legs groaned a little but they held. I finished up her legs, did some sweeps over her ample stomach, then I was going to do her arms and hands and get the hell out of there. "Do you mind... Maybe doing my...breasts? They ache sometimes." she said. "All right. I don't mind." I slid the top part of the sheet downwards. For a heavy woman she was small busted, her nipples were like little cones sticking up. I began with circles at the outer edges, gently lifting and massaging the flesh of each one carefully. She sighed and closed her eyes. Finally I was doing tighter and tighter circles around the edges of her nipples, I noticed they engorged and got firm at my touch, so I simply grasped each one and rolled the tips between my thumb and index finger. That got a long soft moan from her, I swear she almost orgasmed, and I noticed her legs shifted and parted. I then switched to working on her arms and shoulders, doing the full sweeps from her neck all the way down each arm at once. Finally I was done, I put my hand on her stomach for a moment. "How was that?" "Could you maybe..work on my hips a bit more?" she asked. Well, I kind of wanted to get done and out of there, but what the hell. "Sure." I moved to the foot of the table, Lori was short enough that I could reach clear to her waist from there. I turned to add some oil, as I turned back she reached down and tugged the sheet up to cover her breasts. Way up! The sheet pulled up so far that her lower body was bare, I was looking directly at her hairy beaver. I hesitated for a second, surprised. "I am not modest." She smiled at me, her face flushed. "My hips bother me." I started doing some strokes up her big legs, over the sides of her hips and back down. She lay there with her eyes closed, each pass I made over the sides of her hips, she opened her legs more and more until finally her knees were so far apart the position was almost obscene. This fat little lady was deliberately displaying her pussy to me! The problem with that was I was getting a goddamned boner from staring at it. She was excited, too, her lips were fat and getting shiny and slick looking. What the fuck. I reached around and put both hands on her right leg, slid upwards and let the back of my right hand press right against her. She let out a groan and her hips came up. I had the drill now, and there was no more pretense. I stepped up alongside her, she opened her eyes for a moment and then closed them again. So I ran my fingers over her pubic mound, then slowly, ever so slowly let my fingers creep down until I was cradling her. My index finger slid inside, she began to buck against me. I must have masturbated her for at least 10 minutes, using my left hand to roll her nipples one at a time, now like little needles. Finally she let out a long moan and her hips pressed against my working fingers, then she shuddered and relaxed. "Oh God that was wonderful!" She exclaimed. The fact is, I didn't mind, it was fun. Lori gave me a hug as I loaded up my gear, she handed me an envelope that I figured had my $20 fee. "Will you come see me again?" she asked. "Sure, glad to." I told her. I think I meant that. I looked at my watch. Nearly 8 PM. One hour to make it to Diane, my next appointment. I dialed the telephone service, "You have two new messages." the recording said. A male voice came on, I started to delete it when he said, "I would like you to work on my wife. Is it all right if I can be there?" I jotted down the number, pressed the next message. "Hey, I hope you are a little more liberal than some." a male voice said. "My wife needs a good massage and she isn't bashful." An hour later, I knocked on the door of the motel room number Diane had given me. A pretty blonde woman about 35 or so answered, looked me up and down. She smiled and stood aside to let me in. I was setting up the table, just spreading the top sheet out for her when she came out of the bathroom. She was naked. Her breasts were heavy, a slight sag to them, her nipples were soft and a light chocolate color. Her pussy was completely bare, an obvious wax job. She smiled at me, totally at ease. "I hope you don't mind, I can't stand those sheets." I smiled at that, I was going to like my new job.