How many boners can a tophchuck pop if a tophchuck could pop boners? Now try saying that 5 times fast. GO!
I feel like every Christmas you should always get yourself something nice. Just a token of appreciation for all that you have done the past year. Something that symbolizes the trials and tribulations you have gone through. For me, it was a long year. A year that put me in San Francisco working for the dreaded Chronicle. With that said, I decided the appropriate thing to spend my hard earned money on was a massage. Now, keep in mind, I have never been given a massage that didn’t lead to sexual relations. Typically, giving a chick a massage, or getting one of your own from her leads directly to sex time. Why would I spend 2 minutes rubbing your back if you’re just going to roll over and go to sleep? It’s called foreplay. It may not be great, but it’s something. Now, passing out massages is not something that I hand out to every lady that passes through my bedroom doors. I like to make them earn it. Usually, that’s done with a little head-bob action, or maybe even a clam show, but it takes more than just a clean it kind of night. It’s special to me, and damnit, it should stay that way. Mainly, because it’s a last resort to panty droppin’.
I was ready for my day at the Sunshine Oriental Massage and Spa. It was in a decent part of town known as the TenderNob. I wasn’t quiet sure if this was foreshadow or not, but lucky for you, you get to read on and find out. I get to the Sunshine Oriental Massage and Spa and ring the bell. The cute, yet homely, little Asian welcomes me in. She tells me that I am a little early and to read a magazine. I did. Minutes later, and right in the middle of an interesting article about how I was Time Magazine’s person of the year, Lola enters. Okay, so it wasn’t so much an article, but the front page. I couldn’t stop looking at myself in that holographic mirror computer thing. It felt cool that I was Time Magazine’s person of the year. Lola comes out and asks in broken English if I am ready for my massage. I struggle with myself to put the magazine down, and tell her I was ready. As I was walking to the back of the parlor, I wondered what the Sunshine Oriental Massage and Spa was doing with a copy of Time Magazine, but that thought quickly left my head when I arrived in the back. It was a strange walk, too. There sure was a lot of moaning. They must be giving some amazing massages, I thought to myself. I mean, I have given plenty of ladies massages, but I have never heard moans like that. The strange part was that it was mostly dudes. Is that what I sound like when I am getting a massage? I hope not.
We finally get to my room. It was small, with some dingy curtains, and a Buddha in the corner. It also had one of those gold cats with the swinging right arm. Have you seen those? I don’t really know what their purpose is. I think they bring money, or something. I want one. Lola asks me to take off my clothes and get on the table. I do. It’s not my first rodeo. She starts to rub my back with this good smellin’ oil. It was hot oil, too, and I liked it. In her broken English she would ask me things like, “You like?”, “Feel good?”, “So special for you?” I wasn’t quiet sure how to respond, so I figured I would do what I heard every one else doing in the hall and start moaning. She was really happy about that. I know that because she told me so. Minutes later there was little rumble under my blanket. Yep, I had just got a first class ticket to Bonertown. I was embarrassed. I tried to hide it by pulling it up, but that only made it worse. Lola could tell I was embarrassed, and she tried to comfort me by tell me it was okay. She told me that boners make her so happy. She’s not the first girl to tell me that. She told me that she needed to massage my front. I said, “But, Lola, I’ve got things happening here.” I guess it was because every other time I received a massage it’s lead to happy times, my peni was just used to it. Lola giggled her little Chun Lee giggle and told me not to worry. “Happens all time,” Lola said. If it happens all the time, then it couldn’t be that bad, right?
That’s when Lola becomes a Hover. There’s one way to fix a problem, then there’s another way to fix a problem. Lola made the right choice. It was nice to know that massages in the real world are a lot like the ones in my bedroom. I was relaxed, enjoying the extensive training Lola had received at the Happy Time Massage School (I saw her certificate), when I heard a loud startling in the front. Lola popped up and said, “OH! You go NOW!” Apparently, the cops were doing a raid. Apparently, this was not a massage parlor. Apparently, I had just paid for sex. No one informed me of this!
I got up and started running out the door. No, I didn’t put my clothes on. Yes, the cops grabbed me. I was the only one the cops grabbed, too. I later found out that there’s a back door. Thanks, Lola.
I tried to tell the cops that I was Time Magazine’s person of the year, but they were having none of it. I went to jail. Naked. Thank god you wear jumpsuits in jail, or dropping the soap would have been my last problem. Have you ever ridden in a cop car naked? It’s not fun.
