I managed to get through college debt-free by working at various clubs, strip clubs if you must know. Being a shapely, good breasts for my size, book smart and outgoing, I developed quite a loyal following of sorts. Some of them are still friends these years later. 

One evening, I was working a party in Holby Hills, and I met a woman, who would change my life in ways I couldn’t imagine. She was a lanky blonde with beautiful curves that belied her twenty years my senior. 

Her name was Whitney. She was a no-nonsense woman, so she didn’t bat an eye when she asked, “How much are you making for the evening?” 

Naïve and trying to be a little coy, “What makes you think I’m getting paid?” I replied. 

“Look, girly, I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, so let’s cut the bullshit. I can spot a working girl a mile away.” 

I was convicted by the sudden blush of color across my face. 

“You remind me of myself when I was your age, ready to take on the world by doing it your way.” 

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

“No, there’s nothing wrong with that, but if you prefer not to learn everything the hard way, here’s my card. With my contacts and your assets, I could definitely improve your financial situation. Think about it and give me a call,” Whitney boosted with a confident smile while looking me up and down. 

I ruminated on her claim for several weeks before curiosity got the better of me and I called her. Whitney invited me to her Santa Barbara beach house.   

As I approached her home, I couldn’t help but think, “She must have some very generous clients.” Maybe she wasn’t all braggadocio’s talk. 

Her place was lovely, right near the beach with a private access area. This SoCal girl would love to live like this. 

She greeted me at the door wearing a long, flowing white, beach dress with a slit up the side ending just below her ass and a deep plunge in the back to that crack at the butt’s beginning. 

Sitting on her deck watching the waves roll in, she brought me a glass of iced tea. I could feel the sea breeze as my hair fluttered over my shoulders like a shredded flag. 

Being the blunt person she is, she asked, “What’s your normal rate?” 

“Two Thousand for dinner and two hours after dinner."

“That’s a fair number, but how would you like to earn three or four times that much?”

“I’m doing a snuff film!” 

“No, of course not, but if I introduce you to the ‘right people’, that kind of money is possible. How do you think I got this beach house?” 

“What do I have to do?” I queried. 

“Their requirements are simple. You must beautiful – no problem there, be sexually uninhibited," I nodded affirmative, "and most importantly, absolute confidentiality is paramount. Can you meet these requirements?” 

“Absolutely!” I replied emphatically. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the beach breezes and chatting with Whitney about her experiences. 

A few weeks later, she called me and invited me to meet her and a couple at the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills. They were a very loving and sexually uninhibited couple.

After I had been thoroughly vetted she invited me to other events where I met some additional new Special Friends. 

They have become very “Special Friends” and in fact, they introduced me to others like themselves. I currently have a group of “Special Friends” that I call the Bakers Dozen. If they call, I immediately drop whatever I am doing and book a plane to New York, London, Rio or where ever they are. In the best of times, they send a private jet to pick me up. These "special friends" are mostly men, but there are a few husbands and wives an occasional woman sprinkled in. 

Since most of my "friends" are men, I know exactly how to please them. However, the women are a different story. If I am with their husbands, how can I give them something just as unique? My solution was to become a licensed massage therapist. My rationale is that a nice spa-day and maybe an explosive orgasm or two would help her forget that I was going to be with her husband later. 

In between my globetrotting and prepping for the GMAT, I work for a mobile spa service called "The Right Way Massage." The proprietor, Martha, had been in the massage business for years. She had a group of five ladies and several men working as contract help. Given my crazy schedule, I liked working for her because she knew when I was available and would get me some drop-in work. Most of the regular clients were handled by the other ladies. 

It was around ten, and I had just headed for the patio with my ice tea when the phone rang. It was Martha with a request. 

"Chandler, are you available to do a massage this afternoon?"  

"I don't have anything scheduled today. Is this someone I've seen before?" 

"No, actually, I don't know anything about her. One of her employees called requesting "The Birthday Special" Massage for their boss. You know that massage costs a $1,000. She must be a pretty nice woman to have her employees pony up that kind of money." 

"That's true, she must be. What time do I need to be there?" 

"They want you there at 3 PM. Their office is on the 63rd floor in the Williams Tower on Post Oak by the Galleria. I bet they have a nice view. Oh, one more thing, they said they would leave a gym pass for you with the lobby receptionist." 

"Martha, that's great news. I was going to head to the gym later today anyway. If I give her a great massage, maybe she'll become a regular!" 

Since the Galleria is essentially next door to the client's workplace, I decided to leave early and do a little shopping. We girls do love to shop even alone. Afterward, I could drop by the gym and freshen up. This was turning into a good day.

I gathered up my equipment and bag of massage goodies and headed for the Williams Tower. It's an impressive stand-alone building almost a 1,000 foot tall and is the tallest building on the west side of Houston, so it doesn't compete with other buildings like the ones downtown. I turned on to Waterwall Drive and found the entrance to the parking garage. 

Since it was August in Houston, I used the air-conditioned skybridge from the Williams Tower to the Galleria to avoid melting in the heat and humidity. Summers in Houston can be brutal. 

I hit several shops and after an hour or so I found what I wanted. I still had over an hour before my appointment, and I was overdue for my afternoon caffeine fix. Yes, I'm addicted like half of the US. I had passed a Starbucks on my way in from the skybridge. I found it and stood in line, there's always a line, to place my order and pick up my coffee of the day with two shots of espresso. 

While in line, I surveyed the area for a table to park my butt and sip on my rejuvenation liquor. I spotted the last one and made a beeline for it with my brew in hand. Damn, wouldn't you know another woman had the same thought? We arrived at the same instant. 

"There are only two of us. Do want to share?" 

My dogs were barking from all the walking I had done, and I really need to sit down even if for just a few minutes.  

I replied, "Sure, why not." 

I took a sip of my coffee, and then I realized I was sharing a table with a woman of incredible beauty. My heart began to race, and I don't think it was the coffee. My thoughts searched every corner of my memory for words that might describe her. None seemed adequate - luscious, gorgeous, beautiful. They were all too pedestrian. 

Although I'm a believer, I'm not super religious, but at that moment, I knew God existed. Who else could have created someone so alluring, so unique, so exquisite, so indescribable plus the perfume she wore smelled wonderful. I was in the presence of a seraph, for sure, and we were sitting at the same table. 

This Angel did have at least one vice, coffee. She was hitting that Venti like it was a drug going on the prohibited list any second now. She hadn't looked up from her iPad. I couldn't help but stare slack-jawed in awe of her aura. 

She completed whatever had enticed her and slipped the iPad in her bag. I wanted to speak, but my brain was a tangle of unconnected thoughts. None of which would have made any sense if I opened my mouth, so we just sat there staring at each other. Just then, I realized I was so wet. I could feel a puddle developing in my panties as my breathing became shallow. If I were a guy, my erection would have been down to my knees. 

She checked her watch. Her lovely lips parted saying, "I have something special waiting for me today. I need to go. Thank you for sharing the table." 

My meager response was, "Have fun, Angel." 

That was it! That was the best I could come up with. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had never been tongue-tied like that before. I felt so stupid, and I knew I'd be kicking my butt for missing the opportunity of a lifetime. 

My imagination thought it heard her say under her breath, "Lord, why not another time or place?" 

Well, I finished my coffee and departed for the garage to gather my equipment and supplies for my three PM appointment.  

I entered the lobby and stopped at the receptionist's desk to retrieve the gym pass. This was a nice building, very classy. I took an elevator up to the 63rd floor. Wow! My appointment must be a powerful and skilled woman to work at this elevation. I entered their offices toting all my gear.  

A young woman approached, "You must be here for our boss." 

She was bubbly, had an effervescent smile, was a little on the chunky side, but you couldn't do anything but like her immediately.  

Extending her hand, "Hi, I'm Peggy. Let me show you to the boss's office. Bill, help ..., What's your name Ms?"  

"Chandler" 

"Bill, help Chandler with her stuff."  

Bill picked my table while I carried my supplies. We turned down a couple hallways and arrived at a coveted corner office. It was huge and had a tremendous view of the skyline. 

Bill set my table down, asking, "Do you need any help getting set up?" 

"No thanks. I do this all the time." 

In a low voice, Peggy said, "Be sweet to our boss, she’s not only the boss but a friend, too. She's so special." 

I proceeded to set my table up, so I had a view of the city. I surveyed her office. It was immaculate, very tidy. One could tell it was a woman's office by the few frills and the pictures on the walls nothing over the top feminine but just enough.  

My back was to the door as Peggy's boss came in. Immediately, I sensed a familiar smell. I turned and was standing in front of my Angel or her doppelganger.  

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing except, "Uhhh...," came out.   

She stood there silent, too, but with a faint smile across those lovely lips. 

Before I spoke and made a bigger fool of myself, Bill stuck his head in, "Ms. Laura, I'm the last to leave for today. Happy Birthday!" 

Turning to me, he said, "Chandler, make this a day she'll never forget." 

Still unable to speak, I nodded my head in the affirmative. I'm sure his definition of 'a day she'll never forget' and mine were probably much different. 

As I turned to face Ms. Angel whose name was Laura, once again, I opened my mouth and, "Uhhh..." came out. 

Thank goodness, Laura offered her hand, smiling while saying, "Haven't we met somewhere before?" 

She did have a lovely smile. It perfectly went with the rest of her. I clasped her hand, felt her warmth and a jolt of cosmic energy rushed through me, I responded, "Yes, yes, at Starbucks, yes." 

I held her hand as I peered into her electric blue eyes. I felt her doing the same with my ordinary brown ones. God, I wanted to pull her to me and clamp my mouth to hers as lust filled my being. 

She broke our handshake saying, “Why don't we sit down on the sofa for a couple minutes." 

She sat on one end and I lowered myself near the other end. 

"No, Chandler, is it? Sit here." She patted the spot next to her. 

I didn't need any further invitation and plopped my butt down next to an angel. My thoughts were in a furry like a blizzard. I wanted to hold her face in my hands and pepper her with kisses, shove my tongue down her throat to taste her sweetness. Fuck, no one had ever made me feel like this. 

I stared at her face and realized she did not have any makeup on just a little lip gloss. Holy shit, no one has the right to look this beautiful without an on-site makeup artist. 

I opened my mouth to suggest that I finish setting up when she put her hand on my thigh. My Laura angel's hand slid up about midway. My muscle neck lost all its contraction ability as my head flopped back on the sofa. Oh, how I wanted her to continue, but I gathered some willpower, stopping her, saying, "Let me help you work off some of today's stress." 

Rummaging through my bag, I found a dressing gown and my oils. I handed her the robe. 

"When you finish disrobing, you can put this on." 

"Chandler, will this be sufficient for today's purpose?" 

When I turned around, appropriately, she was wearing only her birthday suit. As I gazed on her loveliness, she had to be Aphrodite reincarnate.  

"I hope you've not revolted by total exposure." 

"What? No, no, you look perfectly fine. Why would you say that?" 

She didn't answer but sat on the edge of the massage table taking longer than necessary to lie down on the table or close her legs. My eyes were acting like a man's as I drank in the view of her pinkness. Her slit was the color lychee fruit. The pinkest I’d ever seen. Damn, she was beautiful down there, too.   

"Do you think it's fair?" She asked.

"What? What do I think is fair?" 

"That you're in street clothes, and I'm naked. Is that fair?" 

As slowly I began to unbutton my blouse, I felt her eyes drinking me up like a camel at an oasis. Once I was wearing the same suit as she, I asked, "What kind of message would you like - Thai, Shiatsu, Stone or something else?" 

"You're the professional. Whatever you think is best for me." 

"Laura, would you roll over on your belly please," I said. 

I looked at her exquisite skin. There wasn't a mole, a freckle, a blemish or imperfection anywhere on her. I took one of my favorite oils. It is the fragrance of honeysuckle and jasmine. I began with her neck and shoulders, which certainly had not had attention for a long while. 

"Laura, when was the last time, you had a massage?" 

"It's been over a year." 

"You're very tight. This might take a while to work out all the kinks."

"Take as long as you think it needs." 

It didn't seem like work as I slid my hands over her luscious body. It seemed like every motion from her neck and shoulders and arms were relaxing her entire muscular system. By the time I had descended to her lower back, I felt a different scent from the Honey Suckle oil oozing from her aura. It excited me.   

"Laura, let me slide the pillow under your hips." 

She pressed them up while I slipped this pillow under her. She spread her legs and took my hand placing it between her thighs, saying, "I feel some tightness here." 

Holy shit, could this day get any better? 

My dream at Starbucks was nearing reality. My fingers slid around and near that pinkness while my thumb caressed her bean. It responded by poking its head out. 

I continued this for a few minutes and became emboldened and used my thumb to caress her rosebud, which elicited a "mmmm, that feels nice." I applied more pressure and it slipped in resulting in a moan. 

Every new caress or probe generated a more significant response. I was in heaven. Pushing two fingers into her flowing womanhood, I slid my thumb in and out of her rosebud.  I continued to work her orifices. Her hips began undulations as a response to my probing. 

"Laura, roll to your back, please." She did. 

I stopped momentarily to wash my hands before proceeding further. I went to her smaller but perky breasts, but they were perfect for her body.  her nipples were succulent and taut, hard as emeralds. 

Her fragrance filled the room. I could not leave her honey pot alone. She was dripping her sexuality like honey oozing from the comb. She had pulled her legs up to her hips and spread them wide. Slipping two fingers into her, I felt for her G-spot. There it was - those little ridges. I began rubbing over them while my thumb circled her hard, throbbing clit. It had swollen to about an inch. 

After a few minutes, her hips gyrations began and got progressively more pronounced and violent, He hands were gripping the table to keep from falling off. The quiet was punctuated with moans and sighs. 

With my free hand, I tweaked her nipples that set off a cycle of orgasmic convulsions. I'd never had ones like that. I could feel her pussy gripping my fingers as her hips pressed upward forcing them deeper into her womanhood. 

"Oh, fuck, Chandler, fuck," her hand clamped onto my arm in a vise grip as she shook from head to toe. Her toes curled, legs thrashed, head tossed from side to side. She was having an orgasm she'd never forget. She began to cry. 

I looked at the clock. It was after seven. 

I tried to bring Laura down slowly with lighter pressure. She was a glow of perspiration and looked lovelier than ever. 

I used a towel to mop up my own wetness before getting dressed.  

"Laura, I'll pick up my table tomorrow if that's okay." 

"Yes, that'll be fine." 

I gathered my things, and as I left her office, I swear I heard her mumble, "Would you join me on the table next time?"