I also had a similar experience. Mine ended with a $400 optomitrist bill however (I'll explain in a bit)
Her rubdown was basically standing at my head (face down) and rubbing back and forth. Once in a while hitting my nuts with her fingertips (teasing?). The lotion was hard enough to get off, however what was worse was the fact that she used Vasoline for the HE! WTF? That crap took me an hour, and a whole bottle of body wash to get off (mostly) I still kept my SO away for several days afterwards, just to make sure she didn't find my junk to be as greasy as a strip club owner, and start with the questioning.
As for the Optical shop bill.
I had put my clothes in a neat, folded pile on the bathroom floor and placed my glasses on top of them (as not to forget them). I employ this method after once leaving my glasses at a providers place and having a very uncomfortable situation unfold trying to get them (thats another story entirely)
At one point in the massage she excuses herself from the room for the moment. Not an entirely out of the ordinary move for a massage "type" provider. But always makes me nervous. I assume she is going for supplies for a possible CBJ etc. I hear a plastic against tile sound and she comes back and tells me that she accidentally knocked my glasses onto the floor. I figure "wonderful", they might be scratched" but also wonder how that happened when I placed them very neately and securely out of the way. I honestly think she was trying to go through my sh! T.
When everything is said and done, (ie. Vasoline bomb goes off. And I am stuck looking at her saggy yammy's through a sheer top) she goes and gets my glasses. Both lenses popped out and scratched to fuck! Frame bent to hell. Obviously she also stepped on them.
I try not to flip out and cause some sort of scene, but I let her know that these are expensive, and hope to get a freebie, or at the very least some money back. NOTHING! She offers me nothing but a sorry.
So basically my glasses are destroyed and I had to make up a story to the SO to explain why my brand new glasses are now a pile of shit.
So, Suffice it to say. Her offer of $20 off for repeat clients is not enough to get me back there.
Hope this saves some of my fellow mongers some BS and lost $$
Stay Safe my fellow M's.
[QUOTE=RhodyRob007; 1490974][url]http://providence.backpage.com/FemaleEscorts/erotica-massage-soft-strong-hands-30/2400934[/url]
Originally written for another site but they would not approve because Michelle does not put her name in her ads, so they could not tie the ad to her by name.
I am on a quest to find an independent full body rub provider who really gets into her work, is laid back, is attractive (not necessarily "hot," in fact,"girl next door" would be ideal) and despite the mediocre reviews of Michelle one can find by digging deep, I decided to give her a shot. Others have complained, but her lack of additional services didn't bother me, as that's not what I was in the market to find. What I failed to recognize is that, no matter the services, quality and customer service reign supreme. It's an overarching truism of this industry and all industries.
In short, I should have saved my money. In the end, the services were provided as promised, but it left a lot to be desired. Read on.
So, following the directions in Michelle's ad, I gave her a call, and we were up and running in no time. Turns out she's surprisingly close to my place, which made it all that much better. Not the ivy league college cutie who needs a little help with tuition I always hope I'll find on the East Side, but I decided to roll with it none the less. Her ads have been around for a long time, so she must be doing something right, right?
I arrive, and a second call gets me a greet at the door. Led into the private apartment, and everything looks good, so far. Natural mood lighting coming in from a window enough corners away to avoid privacy issues, light holistic BS music on, an actual massage table set up in the main room / living room. Friendly hellos and first-name trades. [
Upon instruction, I hung my clothes up over the shower curtain rod in the bathroom (to avoid any potential ire from an occasionally territorial cat) and went out to lay on the table, which was draped with a towel. Michelle then went and changed out of the white conservative top she greeted me in, and I hoped whatever was coming out was only temporary. My hopes were later dashed. The black lacy top that returned from the bathroom, though nice enough, wasn't particularly revealing, and it stayed on until at least when I left the building.
Onward. The rub begins. She calls it "soft" and soft it is, no asking about sore spots or how firm to proceed. It's more of a rubdown than anything else. Lots and lots of rubbing, which is necessary to work in the half-gallon of lotion applied a dab at a time. (I just took a shower and haven't gotten it all yet.) It was actually quite relaxing, except when she stopped to fuss with her phone, or tried to force small talk, which consistently felt like landing on an unfortunate square in some sort of Chutes and Ladders Bliss Edition. That said, I did actually enjoy parts of this. Eventually, after only a little teasing, came the flip.
After the flip, and the realization that that top wasn't ever coming off, I tried to just lay back and enjoy the time. Pressing my hand against Michelle, she said suddenly,"have you ever done this before?" To which I replied,"uhh, yeah, why are you asking?" And she responds,"well, you can grab my butt if you want, but nothing else."
At this point, I reach and grab her butt, almost on principal. And after a moment, the thing that will keep me from returning. She exclaims,"ugh, your hand is wet, and hot!" Yes, it's true, my hands get a little clammy. Not from angst or nerves, they just do sometimes. It's humid as all hell out this week. Really? Have a little tact. Come on now. (To be clear, it wasn't that bad. It's not like my hands were gushing soaking wet or anything. A little damp. And yes, warm. My hands are always warm. Most women actually appreciate that about me.) Nothing ruins an erotic moment quite like a disgusted partner, for me at least.
We moved on. And her mechanical handjob did was trained mechanical motions do, and after a few unintentional teases on her part where she thought I might actually be done but clearly wasn't yet (sorry I have stamina? She apologized and said she wasn't trying to rush me, she was just surprised) we came to a modest end, a quick toweling up, a quick getting dressed.
On way out, she asked about the "fee" and I handed over my trademark folded envelope, which she opened and counted in front of me. Pleasantries were exchanged, and I darted back to my car, my shower, my slightly poorer life. At least I didn't dip into the extra bit of cash I always have in this scenario in my wallet for a bonus. I'm going to need it for stronger soap to get the rest of this lotion off. Michelle is a moderately attractive woman with a great venue and a decent overall setup. If she'd just lose her attitude, some lotion and her shirt, she might be on to something. (I also wouldn't be opposed to a little BBBJ teasing, but I knew that wasn't going to happen from her.)
The quest for a great, local, massage and extras incall friend continues. Is it too much to ask? It's not as nearly as much as many mongers ask.[/QUOTE]