Daughter's New Job Pt. 01

Story Info
Daughter's new job leads to changes in family relationships.
17.9k words
4.66
181.9k
203

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/11/2017
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
MichaelsD82
MichaelsD82
1,162 Followers

(Part 1 of 2)

Cast:

Brooke: 23 year old daughter of Mary and Paul

Kyle: Brooke's 21 year old brother

Mary: Paul's wife. Brooke and Kyle's mother (41 years old)

Paul: Mary's husband. Brooke and Kyle's father (45 years old)

Summary:

A family with two adult children living at home, learn of the attraction between family members that has been kept secret. It starts when the daughter takes a new job as a masseuse at a local massage parlor offering special services. In part 1 her brother discovers her secret and threatens to blackmail her. What he learns about his sister surprises him. In part 2 each family members secret fantasy is revealed and life around the house changes.

Note: The character's name, whose Point of View is expressed in each chapter, is the name in parentheses following each chapter title.

Chapter 1 -- Introduction (Mary)

My name is Mary. This story is about how the members of my family became intimately involved. Our lives were changed forever by the circumstances that evolved to bring our family closer than ever before. Paul and I got married when we were young. I was only 18 at the time. We wasted no time in starting our family. We sort of got a head start since I was actually four months pregnant with Brooke on our wedding day.

Up until the events I am about to reveal we had always been the typical all American family. Paul and I supported the kid's school activities and we both worked hard to provide a good life for our family. Paul makes a good income as a real estate developer, and I work as a model. I am by no means a super model, but I keep busy working for local advertisers and photographers. The work is not full time, but with Paul's success in Real Estate we don't have to depend on my meager contribution to the household finances.

Paul has always encouraged me to keep my name in circulation. I think he likes bragging to his colleagues that his wife is a model. I don't mind and am flattered at my age I am still able to be successful in a business dominated by girls in their late teens and early to mid twenties.

It always makes me feel good when Brooke and I are mistaken as being sisters. We do look a lot alike. We are both blondes. Brooke wears her hair to almost her waist while mine is just past my shoulders. I am 5'7" and she is an inch shorter. When I look in the mirror I can honestly say I am not disappointed how the years have treated me.

Brooke does have me beat when it comes to boobs. I don't know where the genes came from, but she has a very healthy set of boobs on her chest. Mine are a B cup and she is a D cup. She is young enough that her breasts don't sag. My husband is happy with my smaller size. Mine are nice and firm, but only because they are smaller. If I had her boobs I know they would not ride as nicely on my chest. Many of the fashions I model don't work well with a bra, so being able to go without one gives me an advantage.

Paul likes for me to wear short skirts and with my legs I can easily wear them. I enjoy the attention I receive as I walk by a group of men. I love to walk by and then with a feigned excuse turn to see all eyes on me.

I grin and give them a wink and girly finger wave. Usually they just smile, and accept the fact they have been caught. I love it when I embarrass one of them. The younger they are the easier they are to embarrass. Older men realize women are sexual beings and enjoy the sexual interaction just as much as they do. I don't have to feel a man's cock in me for there to be a sexual chemistry between us. A simple smile or touch can be very arousing.

Enough of that, back to my story. Brooke decided she did not want to attend college even though she had offers from three colleges offering her Cheerleading scholarships. Instead she tried a few different local jobs, but did not find anything she really liked. An older friend of hers suggested she try massage. The friend told her it was easy work and paid very well. Brooke asked her father and me what we thought.

At first Paul was not very supportive. "Those places are nothing more than a front for prostitution. Is that what you want to do with your life?"

"Daddy, not all of them are like that. This place certainly is not like that. All the men and women working there have gone to school and are licensed. Most of their patients are referred to them by doctors for massage therapy after surgery or a deep tissue injury."

Paul had been injured when working on our roof and had actually even used the services of a massage therapist. He told her if this was one of the legitimate places he had no objection. "Your mother and I have always supported your decisions. If this is what you really want to do, we will be happy to pay for the school and help you get started."

That was three years ago. Brooke earned her license and landed a job working with her friend. She did very well for a little over a year. As she had said, most of their work was paid by the client's health insurance. That is where the problem started. With the government involvement in health insurance things began to get tight and the insurance companies became much more restrictive on the duration of therapy they would authorize and for what types of injuries. As a result business dropped off and Brooke was without a job.

She was upset claiming she worked harder than most of the other therapists. She was the one with the least amount of time with the company, so she was the first to go. When Brooke gets mad she can become very determined. Her father told her if she was that good she should go apply at the other places offering massage services.

After a couple weeks she came home and told us she had landed a job. Paul and I were happy for her. She did not elaborate or tell us much about the place. I didn't even know the name of the business. In retrospect what surprised me the most was her father did not ask any questions about the new job.

I began to notice when she left the house the style of her work clothes had changed a little. She was wearing clothing that was quite a bit more revealing. I didn't say anything, thinking it was just the style of clothing girls her age were wearing. She and I had always joked saying, "If you've got it, flaunt it."

This all changed one day when I was putting away the wash and discovered an entirely new wardrobe I had never seen before, in her dresser. It was not so much a wardrobe, but rather a collection of lingerie unlike any I had seen in her wash. I do all the wash and found it strange she had never put these items in the hamper. I could see they had been worn even though they looked to be fairly new. She had obviously not wanted me to see the garments.

The lingerie consisted of various colors of satin and lace. All of the bottoms were actually thongs. They were so small they were actually g-strings rather than thongs. I knew she wore thongs, what girl doesn't, but these were a little more risqué than what I had seen before. She had several matching bras that only supported the breast with a partial cup below the breast. I had seen this style before in stores and at lingerie parties. Those I had seen were called shelf bras. I had even purchased a couple to give Paul a treat. He liked them, but I had never seen Brooke with one.

They were very sexy and fully exposed the nipple. I held the bra up and tried to visualize what Brooke's D cup boobs would look like wearing one of them. The mental image was not one of which I thought her father would approve.

I put her clean clothes away and decided I would talk to her about them later when we were alone. She is an adult and I have no problem with her wearing sexy clothes. She is a pretty girl and actively dates. She has never had a problem getting dates even though at that time she did not have a steady boyfriend. I had no intention of trying to embarrass her, I simply wanted to know why she thought she needed to hide these clothes from me, her mother.

Chapter 2 -- Mother Daughter Talk (Mary)

Brooke's new job required her to work much later than the previous place. I waited up for her thinking we could talk after her father and brother had gone to bed.

It was a little past 11 when I heard her car pull into the driveway. As she opened the door she jumped when she saw me sitting on the couch. "Sorry honey I did not mean to scare you."

"That's okay Mom, I just wasn't expecting you to be up this late. What are you doing up?"

"I thought maybe you and I could talk without the boys listening in on our conversation. It has been a long time since we have had some mother daughter time together without the testosterone crowd listening in."

She looked a little nervous, but grinned and said, "I know what you mean. Why didn't you and dad give me a sister instead of a brother? He can be such a pain in the ass."

"Sorry honey, but your father is entirely to blame for that. As you know the men decide the sex. It just depends on what sperm they give us girls to work with. He really isn't all that bad. You have to admit, at least he is cute."

"Yea I know he is, but there are days when I want to strangle him. It isn't fair I can't have a sister instead."

I patted the seat next to me and said, "Honey, have a seat. I do have something serious on my mind that we need to discuss."

She sat on the couch at the opposite end. "Sure Mom, what's on your mind? Is something wrong?"

I saw a bag she was carrying, but she made an effort to place it out of my sight. She put it on the floor at the end of the couch. It was a cloth bag I did not remember seeing before. It was obvious she was not eager for me to see what was in it. "What's in your bag Baby?"

"Oh Mom it is nothing important. Just some stuff I need to wash. What did you want to talk about?"

Holding my hand out I said, "Give it to me and I will throw it in with a load of dirty clothes I have ready to go."

"That's okay Mom. I can take care of it. You do so much for me already, you don't need to bother with washing my stuff."

"Honey it is no bother, seriously. I am happy to do it for you."

"It's okay Mom. I will take care of it."

"Okay if that is what you want."

"I just hate to bother you with my stuff."

"I did some of your laundry earlier today and was putting it away in your dresser."

I saw a faint bit of what appeared to be panic on her face. "Really? You should just leave it on my bed. I will put it away."

"Well, honey you know I don't mind doing stuff for you, but I do have a question."

I could see the concern on her face becoming more evident. "Okay"

"Honey, I am your mother. In case you forgot I am a woman and I accept that you are an adult woman. You are also a very beautiful girl and you need not be embarrassed to talk to me about anything. I am not completely oblivious to the fact a mature healthy adult woman has needs, some of which are very personal."

"Okay Mom, I do appreciate that."

"When I was putting away your clothes I found some very pretty new lingerie in your dresser."

"Mom, I can explain."

"You don't have to explain anything Baby. You also don't have to hide stuff from me. As you know your father and brother both have a serious allergic reaction when they get near the clothes hamper. If you put your clothes in the hamper they will never see your stuff and I am happy to wash anything you put in there."

"Mom, this conversation is getting a little embarrassing."

"Is that what is in your bag?" I asked as I pointed to the bag at her feet.

"Yea Mom, it is."

"Would you like to tell me a little about your new job? You have not said much about it. You told us all about the last place, but not much about this new place. I don't even know the name of the place or even what part of town it is located in."

"Mom, it is a little different than the last place I worked. The clients at this place are quite a bit different."

"Oh really, how is that?"

"Most of the clients are men. There are some women, but most are men. None of these clients are referred by doctors. They are not recovering from injuries. Some have tight muscles they need loosened up, but..."

"But what honey?"

"Well Mom, it is hard to explain."

"Let me guess. Are you trying to tell me your new job is focused on relieving a different type of stress; maybe massaging the clients in a slightly different manner and maybe with a different desired outcome?" I asked as I made a open circle with my fist and moved my hand up and down like I was holding a man's erect penis, like I do when I give my husband a hand job.

"Mom! This conversation is getting beyond being just a little embarrassing."

"Honey I have given a few hand jobs in my life. You kids think parents know nothing about sex. You forget if we didn't know anything, how did we come to have children? You don't need to hide it from me. That is what you are attempting to do, isn't it?"

"Mom please don't tell Daddy. He wouldn't understand."

"I won't tell him if you don't want me to. But I would hope you would share it with your mother. I know how men are and I promise I will keep your secret."

She became very quiet and would not even look at me. I was determined to not let her slip out of this quite that easily. I could wait as long as she could. Evidently she steadied her nerves and looked up, but still couldn't look me in the eyes. "Mom, it is the kind of place Daddy was afraid I might work at when I first mentioned wanting to become a masseuse."

"I see. Do you just give hand jobs or do you let the clients fuck you? More importantly is anyone forcing you to do this?"

She didn't answer so I pressed harder by asking, "Honey, are you being forced to sell your body?"

She finally looked at me and asked, "You mean is anyone forcing me to have sex with clients?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I am asking?"

"No Mom, nobody is forcing me to do anything."

"But..."

"But Mom, it does happen. What I mean is I have had sex with clients."

"So it is not just jerking some guy's cock until he shoots cum everywhere?"

"Mom!"

"Honey I told you, I know all about jerking a man's cock. Believe it or not, I am pretty good at it. Don't be so shocked. I take it these men are paying you to let them put their cock in you and fuck you?"

"MOM!"

"Well, don't sugar coat it. I do know all about the birds and the bees."

"Well if you must know, yea, sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

"The clients pay for their massage. We get just a tiny bit of that. If they want more, you know... they tip us and we do more. If not for the tips, none of us would make enough to live on."

"Honey, I am not a prude. You don't have to beat around the bush, just tell me what is going on. I am only concerned that you are safe and that you don't get any diseases."

"Okay Mom, but you promised you will not tell Daddy."

"I know and I have no intention of violating your trust. What you tell me is strictly between the two of us, although you can also talk with your father about these things."

"No Mom, I could never talk to Daddy about this."

"Okay, but I do think you would be surprised."

She took a deep breath and started talking. "How much we do depends on how much they tip. Most of the guys are happy with just a hand job, some just want us naked when we give them their massage. Some like to touch us when we are naked as we are massaging them. There are some who want a blow job and a few who do want more."

"By more, you mean putting their cock inside you and fucking you?"

"Yes, Mom" She hung her head and said, "That is what I mean."

I thought I was ready for the truth, but after hearing this I was not so sure. "Do you at least wear protection?"

"You mean condoms? Absolutely, only an idiot would fuck those guys without a condom."

"How long do you intend to do this? I mean how long do you plan on working at this place?"

"I really don't know. The money is really very good, but what I would really like to do is to do it on my own. You know, open my own place."

"I can see both good and bad with that. You probably need to give me some time to think about this a little. Give me a few days then we can talk again. Is that okay?"

"Sure Mom and thanks for making me talk about it. I do feel a lot better now that you know."

"No problem Honey. I thought you would feel better if you got it out in the open. Just let this sink in and we will talk again very soon. Okay?"

"Sure Mom. Thanks."

"Give me that bag and let me do your wash."

She handed me the bag and thanked me again before heading up to her room. I opened the bag and saw a red satin thong, matching quarter cup bra and short satin robe. I looked at the thong to see if there was cum in the crotch. I was happy to see there was no cum, at least none that I could see.

I wondered what I should do. As hard as it was to do, I would keep my promise and not tell Paul about our conversation. I had promised her I would keep her secret, and was not about to break my promise to her. I wanted desperately to discuss it with Paul, but I had promised and I would not betray her trust.

Chapter 3 -- If It Is What You Want (Brooke)

It had been a week since Mom had ambushed me when I came home from work. She had found the clothes I bought for my new job and had hidden in my dresser. Did I put the clothes there hoping she would find them and make me tell her about my job? I don't know, but I do know telling her about the job was one of the hardest things I have ever done. She wanted my clothes, and after I had confessed to her I was more of a sex worker than an actual masseuse, I had given them to her to wash.

Initially as I arrived home, I had every intention of heading to my room and playing with my vibrator. After the conversation with Mom, I was not about to risk being caught with my favorite toy. What if Mom decided she had one more question and opened the door to find me with my legs splayed wide and my vibrator stuffed in my pussy? I would be mortified with embarrassment. I had experienced more than enough embarrassment for one night. I decided to just go to bed horny. Maybe after sleeping on it I would have a better idea what to do next.

When I woke up I was relieved to find Mom had already left. She left a note saying she had an appointment with a photographer and would likely be late. I am not sure what I expected as I left for work later that aftenoon. As I was driving home I fully expected to find Mom waiting for me when I opened the front door, but the house was dark as I entered. I quickly headed directly to my bedroom and closed the door. Tonight had been a stressful night and I really needed some stress relief.

I stripped off all my clothes then retrieved my vibrator from the dresser. I lay back naked on top of my bed and switched on my best friend to the highest setting. The vibration of my toy on my clit felt extremely good. If men could just make their cock vibrate like this, women would be all over them. Don't get me wrong, I love sex. It does not get much better than having a nice thick cock plunging into my pussy and stretching me. I am currently between boyfriends. I do miss not having a boyfriend around to take care of me. My last boyfriend was an ass and I finally got fed up and told him to hit the road. I was stuck with my vibrator until I could find another guy I liked. I go out and try to meet guys. I have heard more than my share of lame come-on lines, but they guys all seem to be creeps. All most guys want is to stick their cock in me and cum. Don't get me wrong, I love a hard cock, but the guy should at least act like he cares about me.

Now all I have time for are the men who come into the massage parlor. Most are really nice guys who are just lonely and in need of the soft touch of a woman. Some are assholes and others don't understand they need to take a shower before they decide to get a massage. If they only knew how much better the massage would be if they were clean when they arrived, they would be sure to shower.

MichaelsD82
MichaelsD82
1,162 Followers