An eighty-something woman

"This is Barbara." Usha showed in a woman who had to be well into her eighties, was at least fifty pounds overweight, and looked like she could barely walk, let alone climb up onto a massage table. So much for Rick's fantasy about a constant stream of beautiful young things begging for him to stroke them to completion.

"Hi Barbara. I'll step you while you undress. Please climb onto the massage table when you're ready. There's a stack of towels here you can use to cover--"

"Come on, honey." Barbara had a Texas twang that sounded more like it belonged to a cowboy than to an impeccably dressed older woman. "In your business, you've seen it before and I gotta admit, what I got to show ain't what it used to be."

"Aaaand… I'll be leaving." Usha didn't run away, exactly. But she also didn't waste any time heading out.

Rick had to help Barbara onto the massage table. This wasn't fantasy, this was the real world. He'd sworn his vengeance on those assholes at bio-DNA and if he had to masturbate every fat, old and unattractive female in north Texas to do it, then by god that's what he would do. And who was to say that fat, old and unattractive females didn't deserve some love. There were plenty of fat, old and unattractive males who landed hot young things because they were willing to pay.

Rick started with her feet... which like many of the women he'd already seen, were messed up as a result of the ridiculous shoes women insisted on wearing (or perhaps are socially required to wear).

She moaned when he pressed his palm into her falling instep then gestured for him to move on up. "Only got an hour," she said. "Move up to where it counts."

"Tell me where you're tense," he suggested.

She whipped off the towel he'd covered her pussy with and pointed to it. "Right here, big guy."

He momentarily toyed with the idea that she was a Plano vice cop but discarded the idea. Plano police was too busy hassling poor people and the homeless to waste their time on a spa frequented by rich women.

"So Rick," she said when he ran his hands down the outside of her hairy folds, "you pissed about losing your job?"