Sixty-something, joke-cracking John had booked an early afternoon body rub. It was clear from the get-go that he was a purveyor of kinky shit, pulling out an absurd roll of cash and putting down my required $120 fee, then quickly asking how much more for the completely nude option. With $150 on the massage table I began to work on John, who told me the ins and outs of his sexual desires.
As a successful entrepreneur, John had the means to spend $5,000 a week on girls like me, and keep it from his wife. Being in the skin trade, I’m accustomed to men bragging about their income. Whether it’s true or not, I don’t care; but if a guy talks a big game, my price for extras goes up.
John said his biggest turn-on was having a girl push out the beginnings of a small turd and then licking her asshole. He said he pays $500 for this maneuver and then asked if I could oblige.
“I can’t shit on demand,” I said. Believe it or not, this is not the first time I’ve uttered this statement. As a former webcam girl, shit and pee requests are nothing new to me. Faking shit maneuvers is tricky, but faking pee is cake, and many girls do it. You’d have to be freakin’ Houdini to pull a fake one over on an in-the-flesh client. Hmm… $500, think of the bills that could be paid…. But seriously, I didn’t have to go.
“Will you pee on me?”
“Maybe. How much?”
John’s eyes brightened and he propped himself up on his elbows. “How much do you want?”
“A hundred more.”
“How much for in my mouth?”
“In your mouth?”
“Three hundred more.” John scrambled off the massage table to get three more Benjamins and tossed them on the counter.
John got back on the table and opened his mouth like a baby bird waiting for his regurgitated food. I straddled his head, and thanks to years of camping, I had near perfect aim.
Let’s hope he used mouthwash before he kissed his wife.