“It is a little messy. But he was cute,” Sandy replied, repeating the sum total of her argument. “Remember the way he insisted on paying for your drinks and all he wanted was a peck on the cheek in return. Are you sure he is just a punter, he said some really nice things about you?”
Grace groaned as she recollected. Terry had certainly been very complimentary about her, how she looked and danced, and he did keep his hands to himself when they were dancing but he still paid her for sex, and that made him off-limits and unsuitable boyfriend material.
“And he walked us to the end of our street,” Sandy reminded her. This was true, Grace had insisted that he go no further citing parlour rules, and he was quite happy with this. She watched him sulk off into the night as Sandy and her walked up their poorly-lit road to bed. “He certainly likes you.”
“That's true, he does.”
Sandy bit her lip for a moment and then confessed. “When you went to the toilet, he did sort of ask when you were next working.”
Grace spun round and looked at her friend under the street light. “Please tell me you didn't tell him,” she pleaded and Sandy looked apologetically sheepish. “Oh great! Well at least I've got two days of peace,” she replied sharply. She wasn't annoyed with Sandy, she was never annoyed with her, but she had wished she hadn't divulged to him when she would be working. But then, all he had to do was ring the massage parlour anyway, and she could hardly be a prostitute who wasn't happy to have sex!
“So if you didn't like him,” Sandy asked, “why did you give him a free blowjob?”
Grace sighed, the same thought had occurred to her also.
Grace slid the dildo into her well lubricated pussy, and faked a groan. She kept making exaggerated and loud moans as she pumped the fake phallus into her quicker and quicker.
She made a loud, explosive orgasm and then started panting.
“And cut! Oh Kat that was wonderful. Just the photos now and we'll be done.”
Grace picked up a towel and wiped the lubricant, masquerading as juices of female arousal from her nether regions and threw the dildo off the bed. She had taken up a friend of Neville's offer of making some pornography but didn't expect it to be so pathetically boring.
While Grace's father was English, her mother came from Eastern Europe and so she had a smattering of continental facial features that the director liked; foreign girls always sold well and he was confident that if he gave her a foreign name on the credits, something like Tatana or Svetlana, then it would sell very, very well.
For that reason, Grace was not permitted to speak she had to groan, moan, fuck, suck and squeal, but not utter a single English word.
Sandy had also swung herself some extra work, she was working in an illegal casino, serving drinks almost naked and encouraging customers to spend more money than they could afford.
As much as she found most of the work at the parlour dispiriting and gloomy, making pornography was soulless and depressing. She was glad she would be returning to the more familiar surroundings the following day.
Grace and Sandy pushed open the door to the massage parlour. The manager was behind the little desk, smoking and greeted them as they came in. “Look lively gals,” he said is his cockney accent. “It's openin'”
Grace and Sandy darted into the little room and got changed into more revealing attire and returned a few minutes later.
“Oh Gracie,” her manager called as she emerged. “There's a geezer in the end room for ya. He asked for yew only.”
Sandy smiled. “I bet it's Terry.”
“Oh I hope not,” Grace replied and the manager shooed her along the corridor to the room at the end.
It was. Grace bit her lip and stared at the tall guy sat on the massage table. She was a little annoyed that he had returned and asked specially for her, but he was just a client, and she preferred him to most of her other punters so she returned a forced smile.
“Lie down,” he told her and she stared at him, motionless. He jumped up from the table and held out his hand where he had been.
“Pardon?”
“Lie down,” he grinned and she peered at him confused. “I want to massage you.”
Grace chuckled. “It doesn't work like that, hun.”
“But I want to,”
She cocked her head. “Why?”
“Cos I do. I've only got you for an hour so just let me.”
Grace sighed and stared at him confused. “You really want to give me a massage?”
“Yes, I want to make you smile. So hurry up, get your top off and let me start.” Terry cracked his knuckles so Grace peeled off her white tank top and laid across the table. There were some oils on the side, and she guided him to use a token amount and then warm it up first in his hands.
It had been several weeks since Sandy had given Grace a massage, and she forgot how much she enjoyed them. Sure, Terry wasn't that good, he wasn't experienced but he had strong hands and was soft with his movements and his flowing motions caused her to purr contently once he had told her to just relax and stop worrying.
She sighed and glanced up at the clock. They had had fifteen minutes already and she was forgetting where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. “Don't you want one from me now?”
Terry shook his head and then realised she couldn't see him and muttered that he didn't. He had tried not to talk too much, this didn't come naturally to him and he was concentrating on what he did. He had spent the last three days reading up on massage techniques and had even visited a massage parlour in Manchester to ask the young lady to teach him the art of massage. This caused her much amusement until she realised he was serious and although he had paid for it, he did not want sex with her, just an hour of tuition.
Why was he doing this? He simply didn't know. There was something about Grace he could not put a finger on that made her so wonderful. Maybe it was the fact that she was not immediately submissive to him after that chance meeting when he took her to the club, but his eyes twinkled when he saw her, and her indifference towards him he put down to reticence and not a dislike of him.
Every girl he had ever taken out had warmed to him quickly and it had been easy; his parents were very well-off and Terry was never short of money, and he was a generous man by nature. Too often he wondered if the girls liked him because of the notes in his wallet, but here was a girl who he had warmed to immediately, and who liked him but was being evasive and hard to get. The thrill of the chase added to her allure.
Grace was also trying to rationalise Terry's behaviour but couldn't manage it so she just enjoyed his hands working their way over her skin. She was worried he would want to ask her out, or start stalking her so she had to display a coldness, but she did like him, he had a cheeky smile, a good sense of humour and a warm personality.
Terry asked Grace to turn over, which she did, displaying her firm breasts and hourglass figure. He smiled when he looked into her eyes.
“Do you mind if I take these off?” Terry asked as he pointed towards her knickers and she smiled at him. Most punters would have ripped them off but he was asking for permission politely and with genuine sincerity. She smiled.
“Of course you can,” she replied and he slid them down her legs, admiring the labia poking out through the skin. “You've paid for me to take them off.”
“You are very gorgeous,” he told her. “As beautiful as a rose petal.” Grace blushed.
Terry beamed at the girl and started massaging her thighs. She closed her eyes and he kissed her on the nipple, taking her erect point in his lips and swirling his tongue to meet it. He had dreamt of Grace every night for the last five nights, and she had been the subject of his masturbation all week; he went rock hard the moment his lips made contact with her.