From Physio to Gigolo

I didn’t know what to say at first and mumbled something about whether she preferred women.

“Oh yes infinitely more but I can put up with men.”

It wasn’t for another three nail biting day shat I got the news in a call on my mobile.

“Hi it’s Sue from no strings.”

“Oh hi,” I said surprised and immediately nervous to hear from her.

“Well done you passed and your references checked out fine. You can come onto our site if you want. Do you?”

“Wow, great yes, yes thanks of course I’d love that,” I blubbered rather stupidly.

She ran over some details and said she’d e-mail me what I had to do. I got that an hour or so later and saw that I had to write my suggestion for the entry on the site.

Relieve the tension, overcome the frustration.

I chose as my headline. I did many drafts before finalising what I felt was right for the rest of the entry. I finally came up with,

Young, professionally qualified physiotherapist offers ultra discrete, complete body massage to discerning ladies of any age. Experience the joys and exquisite pleasures of being cosseted and pampered to your completion by a fit, six feet two inch, tanned and toned Aussie man.

I promise to respect your every wish, do whatever you require and I guarantee your complete and utter satisfaction.

If you’re not fully satisfied at the end there’s no fee.

I e-mailed it off to NSA and with hardly any adjustments Sue accepted it and mailed back the information on how the site worked. It was a members only service and the female subscribers paid an all in monthly fee of £50.00. For that they got admission to the list of service providers. When they wished to make use of one they contacted Sue with their request and she and her team then passed that onto the particular provider. They made all the arrangements including the time and place and advising the user of the price that had to be settled before the service provider even met with them. I could see why she took so much trouble screening people like me for it was a pretty arrogant way of working expecting your customers to pay before they’d had anything. It did, though, tell me how highly respected NSA4 must be. For the introduction and making the arrangements they also charged the service providers £50 so they were getting it both ways. Quite a clever business I thought.

As I continued with my real work for the next few days I was as usual on the lookout for likely targets but as I only had one female in that period and as she was a regular aged over sixty, nothing happened.

“OK you’re up and running on the site. Good luck”

Was all the e-mail said. It did though make me feel quite excited for it suddenly hit me what I was really doing. I was now becoming a male prostitute. A hooker, a gigolo. But also I was going to make some real money.

After discussions with Sue we’d agreed, very much at her direction, that I’d charge £100 for the visit and massage. Extras would be on top of that and she’d suggested a sort of menu. For a further £100 they could have a massage through to relief, for £150 that would include oral and for £250 they could have everything. I’d said that I thought that was all a bit steep but she’d said.

“I know my clients Brad, trust me. In any case you’re far better off having a fewer number of well paid jobs than loads of lesser paid ones aren’t you? As indeed we are for we take 15% of all you make.”

I recognised both the commercial and physical merits of that for as she added laughing,

“For you to keep it up Brad you can’t really expect to average more than one a day can you?”

A few days later Sue phoned on my mobile. Fortunately it was between appointments at the clinic.

After exchanging pleasantries she said, “Ok we’ve got your first massage. It’s with a very well established client who’s been with us for ages. Her name’s Kate Reading, she’s just over fifty, lives in Totteridge and has been married for years. She now obviously doesn’t get as much from him as she wants for she uses us once or twice a month and is usually up for anyone new.”

“Great sounds good,” I mumbled as my pulses raced a bit as I realised that it was actually starting to happen

“She was quite excited by the idea,” Sue went on “and would like to have you ASAP. Could you do this afternoon around four?”

Although it was a slow day I knew that I had an appointment then and realised that it would take and hour or so to get there but I didn’t want to cause any hassle for Sue on my first introduction so I agreed. I quickly phoned the patient who fortunately was a regular and rescheduled him telling the receptionist he’d phoned me direct to cancel. A bit unusual but just about plausible. It did, though, make me realise the difficulties I might have to face if this took off.

Not being able to afford a car I travelled out on the Northern line and got a cab from Totteridge Station to the very grand house a mile or so away. It was set in its own grounds and was massive. I was hellishly nervous on the tube. Not so much about what she’d look like or the massage or sex but more because it was my first time. “My first time,” I kept telling myself “as a male hooker.” Was that really what I’d come to?” I’d been wondering ever since Sue had told me about the date. Oddly though the morality of it all didn’t bother me that much. “What was the real difference to pulling birds in clubs and bars spending a few bob on them and then screwing them” I rationalised. It was only sex wasn’t it?

But that didn’t really hold water and I knew it. It was basically immoral, it was outside the norm. Being paid to supply sex was a very old profession, or so they say, but that doesn’t make it right and I had to admit to a slight feeling of disgust at what I was doing. But hey I need the cash and I know I’d make a hopeless burglar and I hate drugs so how else can I afford to live to the style I wanted?

It was how things would go, how I’d be treated, whether indeed I’d be able to fancy the clients enough to get and keep my hard on that worried me. I’m not that used to shagging ugly, fat or really old birds but now I might have to and that worried me a bit.

So, I felt bloody nervous as I rang the doorbell.

I needn’t have been though for Kate was wonderful. Friendly and pleasant she seemed as nervous, if not more so, than me as she showed me into a large lounge and asked if I’d like to join her in a drink? We both had gin and tonics and she chatted away asking about Australia and how long I’d been here. She sat across a low coffee table from me .tastefully dressed in white linen trousers and a beige coloured top. She really didn’t look her age for there was only the smallest of wrinkles on her face and she was slim carrying no excess weight at all it seemed. She had short blonde hair, presumably I thought aided a little, and a plain though not unattractive face although no one would call her classically beautiful for her nose was on the large side and she had very thin lips that made her look more severe than her manner implied.

It seemed as if she had a need to get to know me first. Perfectly understandable I thought. So we chatted away just as if we’d met for a straight massage at the clinic until she out of the blue said.

“You must wonder why I’ve booked you?”

“No, not really, I don’t even think about such things,” I replied purposefully being diplomatic thinking that would be the best way to ingratiate myself with her, after all she might turn out to be a regular and that’s what I was after. “That’s completely your business and nothing to do with me really is it?”

“No I suppose not but somehow I feel a little oh, er, I don’t know, perhaps wanton at paying for a man’s services.”

I guessed she needed some form of reassurance to maintain her self-respect, so I said,

“Well you shouldn’t. If you feel the need for such services then have them and don’t concern yourself about it.”

She didn’t reply and we just sat there for a moment or two with me worrying that maybe she was having a change of heart so I ploughed on trying to turn on the old Aussie charm.

“It’s completely your business Kate,” I started leaning forward a little and placing my hand on the coffee table. “You’re a very attractive woman and if you have the need for such things then any man would be happy to oblige,” I went on smiling at her.

“Thank you but I still feel a little guilty.”

“Well I think it’s commendable really Kate for you could so easily find a man that you don’t have to pay for but you don’t, do you?”

“No,” she said softly, “no I couldn’t do that, it would be more wrong than this.”

She seemed more reassured now and the confirmation of the “this” made me feel relieved. Actually as we chatted and I looked and listened to her I was beginning to quite fancy her so this would really be a labour of love.

“So,” I said looking right into her eyes, “shall we, er, start Kate? All this talk is getting me quite excited,” I went on smiling at her.

She laughed replying, “I bet you tell all your clients that.”

“No not at all in fact you’re my first real client so I guess you may well be right.”

She showed her greater experience at this sort of thing than me by saying as we both stood up and faced each other across the coffee table, “ let’s get the money side of this sorted out now shall we?” She handed me an envelope adding as she did, “Sue explained the menu and you’ll see that this covers everything.”

We went upstairs and she showed me into a fairly small, but beautifully furnished, bedroom that I assumed wasn’t the marital room. She went into the en-suite bathroom and I took a quick peek in the envelope and was amazed to find four hundred pounds in there. “Fuck me,” I thought, “I’d better be good for that much.”

She came back with a towel wrapped around her.

“You look lovely Kate,” I said truthfully, adding as I felt my erection starting, “would you like to lay on your front first?”

She laid down still with the towel coyly around her. I knelt alongside her on the bed and gently unwrapped that and pulled it away. She was naked underneath. As I softly ran my fingertips across the mounds of her bottom and up her back I whispered, again totally truthfully, “you have a beautiful body Kate.”

“Thank you,” she replied her voice full of tension.”

“I shall really enjoy massaging you and giving you all the pleasure you deserve,” I mumbled as I trailed my fingertips along her slender thighs.

Everything worked perfectly.

She came quite quickly the first time when I did the up and down the inside of the thighs going nearer and nearer to her pussy routine. After I turned her over and did the tit thing with oil she took longer but then came again shuddering to a long and what seemed quite powerful climax. After that and quite surprisingly she suggested another drink. I agreed and she got up and went to get the drinks without wrapping the towel around her. I pondered on the idea of undressing while she was out the room for she’d paid for “everything.” I didn’t quite, somehow, have the pluck for it though.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned. As she leaned forward to pour the wine into my glass her small, but nicely formed and still very firm and pert, boobs hung down right in front of my face. Without thinking I reached out and cupped one and softly squeezed it. She reacted with a nicely encouraging deep sigh. She put the bottle and her glass down and to my amazement wrapped her arms round my neck and kissed me enthusiastically. I hadn’t been quite sure on the etiquette of kissing but was pleased she clearly wanted to. .I managed to put my glass on the floor just before she pushed me backwards so that we were both lying on the bed.

I hadn’t in my wildest dreams thought this would happen for soon we were rolling around the bed in each others arms. Kissing and caressing, she pulled my clothes off until I was also naked.

We made love twice in the next couple of hours and all I can say is that any doubts I had about my new profession quickly vanished on that bed with Kate.

What I was giving her wasn’t just sex. She wasn’t paying me to merely satisfy her frustration. It wasn’t just to compensate for her husband’s lack of drive. No what she was after and what she was buying was more than that. She was purchasing affection and loving. Buying a couple of hours where she could put reality to one side and where she could again have the loving sex that was no longer on the agenda with her husband.

I had a lot to mull over on the train back to Docklands. As I left Kate had said,

“Same time, same place and same deal next week. OK? I’ll let Sue know.”

I already had a booking one evening with Charlie at her flat next week and I’d noticed Jill’s name was on my appointment list. So without doing hardly anything I would earn more money from those three sessions than I would from my job at the clinic.

That made me think. If the NSA site generated a few more clients that I could turn into regulars and if it also provided a reasonable stream of new commissions that might just be one offs I would be so busy that I’d find it hard to fit in the clinic. I also realised that if that did happen then I’d be earning far, far more than I did there so maybe I’d give it up and focus completely on my new job. I reckoned I could service for sure one a day with the occasional double helping if needed. So at that rate I’d be earning nearly three times what the mean bastards at the clinic paid for junior partners.

Kate’s needs and reactions also gave me food for thought. The “discovery” that what I provided for her and, in a way, to Jill, and even Charlie as well was more than sex. It was that brief period when they could forget themselves and could let themselves believe they were being loved. Loved in the way they wanted to be loved or in the way they remembered it. If that meant I had to act a little and play the part of their lover as opposed to their masseur so what? In fact so much the better. Adding in the kissing and tenderness was fine by me, in fact it made it more enjoyable. Maybe, I thought, letting my mind think even deeper, that’s what I’m after as well? And that really did make me think.

Sue phoned the next morning and said that she’d had a rave review from Kate and confirmed the booking for the following week.

“You got your diary there Brad for you’re gonna need it?” she said.

“Why, what?” I asked.

“The bloody e-mails gone mad, I’ve got enquiries for you all over the place”

“Really, wow,” I exclaimed not really knowing what to say.

“Yes I could book you twice a day for the next two weeks if you could keep it up,” she laughed adding, “with most wanting the works.”

I had some holiday left so I told the clinic that something had come up suddenly at home and that I had to fly back. I arranged to take two weeks holiday and a few extra days so that gave me the best part of three weeks. I’d decided to use this as a test. If I bombed out then fine, back to the physio job with the occasional Jill and Charlie. If I could handle the three weeks and if it worked and I could get a few more regulars then I decided I’d chuck in the daytime job and become a full time male prostitute. “Wouldn’t mum be proud of her son?” I smiled.

They came in all shapes and sizes, age ranges and requirements. Overweight, scrawny and well proportioned. Blondes, brunettes and mousy. haired. The youngest was in her twenties the oldest I put near to sixty. Most wanted full sex but a few just wanted me to bring them off with my hands. Most wanted to be held and cuddle and kissed some didn’t. No problem. They all became the same to me during that incredible three weeks.

Although some treated me with a degree of disdain, probably with the level of it that a male hooker might warrant in some peoples’ eyes, most didn’t. Most were a little nervous, very polite and friendly, considerate, caring and, surprisingly, so thankful afterwards. All seemed to be intelligent and respectable, most were well dressed and could hold a sensible conversation. And of course every single one of them was rich.

My theory on them largely wanting love as well as sex, generally held up well and I used that to my advantage for kissing and cuddling and stroking and caressing made for a much more exciting and satisfying time for me as well as them.

I learned a lot during that period from several “dates.”

There was Norma a forty something American lady. A big girl but one totally in proportion. She was as tall as me in the high heels she wore when she invited me into her room at the Marriott in Grosvenor Square and her figure was superb if you like bigger girls. No flab, massive tits and the most rounded and bulbous hips imaginable.

After, what seemed the almost mandatory, chat and drink as we got to know each other and we’d moved to the bed with her shedding her robe on the way, she said looking meaningfully at me.

“I think one of us is a little overdressed Brad and it ‘aint me.”

Smiling back I replied, “Well that’s usually sorted out a little later.”

“Why? Why later and not now?”

“Well that’s just how I usually work.”

“You should change then, young man,” she murmured moving very close to me and resting her hand on my bulge. “You should offer the choice of now or later. It should be on the menu,” she went on sliding her hand up and down the instant erection she’d caused. “Naked massage, sounds, mmmm, er, wonderful,” she cooed slipping her hand inside the elasticated waist band adding as her fingers closed around my cock, “as does this. How much extra is it?”

I didn’t charge her extra but the next day I asked Sue about it and she thought it was good idea. We changed the menu putting in naked massage at £150 and adding £50 to the relief and everything else. Sound business it seemed to me and I had Norma to thank for it.

Then there was Denise. As I massaged her, so her hand several times reached out for me. As I caressed her clit, so her fingers found my hard on. When I slid her panties down, so her hand pulled the waistband of my tracky trousers down. As I slid my fingers inside her so she began to pump me. And as I started to masturbate her so she did me as well.

I pulled away though. I’d been having a tough time. I’d had a client every day for the past six days and on one day I’d had two. All except one had wanted full sex and most of those had wanted it twice so I was tired. I didn’t want to be masturbated for fear that it would ruin my later performance.

“Wait,” I whispered redoubling my efforts on her pussy.

“No I want that Brad,” she replied huskily reaching out and once more grasping my cock.

“Want what Denise?” I answered probably sounding rather naïve to her.

“I want to wank you, I don’t want you to screw me,” was her slightly surprising reply.

“OK,” the slim, redheaded, Irish woman with a strong brogue said after I moved my hands away from her tiny breasts with very prominent, almost brown nipples. As she said that her hands stayed exactly where she’d placed them as I rubbed her boobs, right on her clit with her fingers slightly in her pussy. Like that we’d enjoyed her having a nicely, shuddering climax. She went on in a gruff, croaky voice, “your turn now Brad.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I knelt naked on the bed beside her half way through her nude massage.

“I want to watch you do it?”

“What to you?”

“No dummy,” she smiled, “to yourself, I want to watch you wank.”

I was actually quite happy to oblige, perhaps it brought the exhibitionist out in me.

“OK then.” I said wrapping my fingers round my cock that was reassuringly hard and throbbing. I started to rub it. Nice, long strokes, full ones so that my foreskin went right over the tip on the forward thrust and down the bulbous head on the way back. Her eyes flittered from what my hand was doing to my eyes. She had a small smile on her lips and her hands started to rub her tits and pussy again as we held each others gazes.