Prologue

This story picks up just after the events of A Christmas Swap with Friends.

Present Day -2021

It wasn’t long after leaving the university dorms that we were on the freeway. I glanced at Beth who appeared lost in her thoughts. It was Wednesday evening and she had to be back at school before her noon class tomorrow, so we had some time.

I had a question I had been waiting to ask. So I did.

“Did you have your special client tonight?” I asked, with my eyes on the road ahead.

“You remembered. Yeah, he was my first client.” Beth said then added, “I did as you suggested, and everything worked out fine.”

“How so?” I asked.

I knew what I had suggested to Beth. I had given her tips on how to tease the guy during the massage, to bring him along. Just enough to where the client can guess he can get more and gives permission for the ‘extra’ lingam (penis) massage from his masseuse.

A glance told me Beth had turned in her seat to look at me, a small grin on her pretty face.

“Well, I checked up on him first. He’s retired from teaching. Has a couple of grown daughters, one close to my age. And he’s divorced and seems a little lonely, travels a lot. I like him.”

“Good, being safe is a must,” I said. Making sure the guy wasn’t a cop and also that he fit a certain profile. “Go on”.

“Well as you suggested, from the first session I used my boobs, letting his head kind of rest on them when I worked his shoulders. For him, I wore a spandex bra like the one you first saw me in.”

“I remember! How could I forget seeing those big girls for the first time. You suddenly taking off your bra as you massaged your dad.” (Massage with Friends)

I glanced at Beth but it was dark in the car so I couldn’t really see her face. Even after all we had done together since she was fifteen, I knew she was blushing. Still a shy teen.

“Gosh, I was so embarrassed. Nervous that you wouldn’t approve,” she said her voice a little lower, huskier.

“Well, I showed you differently,” I said. The memory of her big D pink-tipped girls popping out of the bra as she pulled it over her head etched in my memory banks forever.

“So, I let my fingers brush his ball sack a couple of times, kept my hand on his thigh for a little longer than normal. It wasn’t the first time I did it. Tonight, was session number four, so we’ve learned to trust each other. At our second session, I let him rest a hand on my hip.”

“What happened tonight?” I said curious how she pulled it off.

“I wore the bra and these yoga pants. This time when I had him on his back towards the end of the session I let the sheet fall off his groin area. Then ‘by accident’ as my fingers touched that inner area on his thigh next to his balls and cock. I ‘apologized.’”

“He said it was okay, he wasn’t embarrassed and he didn’t need the sheet. His cock started to get a little hard as I had my hand there. I think I said something about asking if the pressure was okay and he just nodded.”

“That’s good,” I said eyes back on the road, the traffic light.

“By now we knew each other, he had his hand on my hip and moved it to my ass. I didn’t say anything at first, then he squeezed my ass and I didn’t move or stop him.”

“Nice,” I said picturing the room and the table with the man on it. A position I had been in countless times with other masseuses.

“I looked at his face. He was watching me as I put my hand on his cock. He gave a nod and said he would give me a good tip.”

“So, I gave him a good hand job. At the end, he pulled me closer and put his hand on my boob. No big deal.” Beth said in an even voice.

“He tip good?” I asked. The reason Beth even considered doing this with certain special clients was to make more money in her limited time.

“Yeah, an extra hundred, cash. We agreed on a price for next time. I also agreed to be topless,” Beth said stirring in her seat a little as we got closer to my exit.

“I’m glad it all worked out. Be careful though,” I said. She was taking a risk. But she was damn near a pro at giving hand jobs. If she did like I told her, watching for the signs the client was interested, while she laid the groundwork for more, she would be fine. With social media, it was easy for her to figure out if a client was legit.

“I’m being careful. Only older guys right now and only if I get that feeling.”

I gave her yoga pants clad thigh a quick squeeze of affirmation as I took the exit.

“Wendy’s?” I said looking at the fast-food places coming up.

“Yes please, I’m starving need something to eat if we are going to stay up.”

I bet she was and yes we were.

Beth had her order, a grilled chicken sandwich, and a Dr. Pepper in her lap. Just a few more minutes and we would be at my house.

“Any more prospective clients for a happy ending?” I asked. Another client or two tipping well would make her life easier when it came to affording the extras at college.

For me, nineteen-year-old Beth definitely sat in the good friend I fucked occasionally category. I didn’t get jealous of her when she had another sexual encounter. Whereas Sofia I felt a connection as I would to a lover. Though I wasn’t going to date or marry either teenager that was clear.

Beth was quiet for a moment. I glanced at her while stopped in the turn lane at a red light. She sipped her soda, eyes on me.

“A Catholic Priest came in recently.” Beth said, “Victoria, my boss, sent him my way a couple of weeks ago and he has been in twice.”

Interesting. Beth wasn’t much for organized religion. Just like her parents.

“What makes you think he would be interested? He’s a priest.” I said. Catholic priests had earned a bad reputation when it came to young boys, not teenage girls.

“Just a feeling. He just arrived in town after working in Rome for a lot of years. Specifically? It was his hug. He held me tight, so my boobs pressed against his chest and just a little longer than normal.”

“Okay, but what guy wouldn’t like that?” I said playing devil’s advocate.

“I know but he said little things like asking if I was comfortable with nudity. And seemed to enjoy it when my hands worked his glutes and groin area and of course, when I let his head rest on my tits, he smiled.”

“Really, you did that with the priest?”

“I thought why not? He’s just a man, even a priest might like my girls.”

“That’s it?” I asked. Not much to go on.

“Well on Monday, as we finished, he asked if I would like him to hear my confession.”

I was quiet and just nodded my head. We were almost home. Then it would be showers and to bed. Beth would probably want to watch a movie and cuddle.

“I know, I’m not Catholic, not even close. But he said it would be good for me and would be confidential between him, me, and God. So, I said I would think about it.”

“Okay,” I said, as I pulled into my driveway and parked the car. Confession was good for the soul, and it appeared she had a lot to confess.

We sat there for a moment. Now I could watch Beth’s face in the light from the streetlights. It looked like she had more to say.

“I stopped by his church on Tuesday after class. I was downtown and sort of just walked in and asked for him.”

I didn’t move to open the car door. I sat there listening.

“He smiled when he saw me. He gave me a little tour of the old Spanish mission church and took me to his office.”

“You ever been in a Catholic church before?”

“Maybe once or twice for a wedding or maybe a funeral. I could tell he was still moving in. Father Mike, that’s his name, had boxes on his desk and a couple of paintings that still needed to be hung.” Beth paused and opened her bag taking out some fries.

I waited. The car served as our own little safe space for confession.

“What did you talk about?” I asked.

Beth washed down her fries with a sip of Dr. P. “He asked about me. If I believed in God. I said I wasn’t sure if I believed in God. We talked about Italy. He had the kindest eyes and just sat back and listened as I rambled on.”

I had to pee but I didn’t move, yet. This was important.

I cut to the chase. “Did you talk about your parents and your unique education?” I put my hand on her thigh again to make my point and left it there.

“No, Father Mike told me everything I said was confidential, but I didn’t tell him much. He was just looking at me. I had on a sweater, one of my favorites, kind of sexy, showing off my boobs. I could see his eyes looking then not. I looked away. He had a painting sitting on the floor by his desk. It was old looking in a heavy frame. The painting was of a beautiful woman. She had fair skin, long golden hair that wrapped around her body except for her breasts, which were bare. She just stood looking up at the sky like she was in awe.”

“He saw my interest in the painting and set it on his desk. Father Mike said it was St. Mary Magdalene, Jesus first true follower. The painting was a gift from a friend in Rome. A copy of the original painted by Titan back in 1531 he said. I asked about her nudity, if it was wrong. He said it represented her sin and that many paintings from that time showed Mary nude.”

Beth was watching me as she ate her fries.

“Sin yeah that is a tricky thing,” I said. I put my hand on her shoulder then moved it to the base of her neck. I had sinned a lot with Beth.