Amanda decides to earn the money - too bad she completely misinterprets the kind of massage he wants

"Oh, but I..." Amanda stopped, stairing at the money. What she'd thought to be a small sum was actually fifty dollar bills. There had to be at least three hundred there.

"What kind of massage were you looking for today, sir?" she sweetly asked the man.

"Huh? The usual. Deluxe, full body, deep tissue oil massage," the man grunted.

Amanda stared, wondering what all that meant. She stared for a moment at the hair back of the whale-like man lying face-down on the table before turning her eyes to much more pleasant scenery.

The room was painted in light, soothing colors, with a few tasteful pictures. Flowers and plants occupied the corners and surfaces along with bottles of what she assumed to be oil. She popped a few open, finding one that she liked. 'Deep-Tissue' it said, along with 'Hot'. She wasn't sure what that meant, but picked it up.

"Just a minute, sir," she said, and shrugged out of her robe. Taking another look at the cash she steeled her nerves. For three hundred she'd do just about anything, so if he wanted a full body she'd give it to him.

Uncapping the oil she poured it down her front, quickly rubbing it in. Not wanting the man to become impatient she hurried, covering very inch of her body before taking if over to the table.

"I'll start with your back, okay?" she asked, to which he merely grunted.

When she climbed on behind him he didn't react, merely flexed his muscles beneath the layer of blubber covering him and sighed contentedly.

It wasn't until she leaned over to grind her breasts into his back, wriggling her naked body along his that he seemed to realize something unusual was going on. Amanda, on the other hand, was cluelessly giving him an oily full-body rubbing.