I Had to Say Something by Mike Jones Page B

ready.” He got up and went to the massage room to get undressed. While I waited, I took a sip of water. Posing is hard work. Laying him on his back and jacking him off was much easier.
    Waiting on the massage table, Art was chatty again.
    â€œHave you ever had any strange requests?”
    As I rubbed lotion on his back, I told him about this one guy who had a shoe fetish. “He said he was from Minnesota, and right in the middle of being naked, he said, ‘Hey, can I ask you something?’ I said sure, so he asked me if I had a pair of cowboy boots and would I mind wearing them while I massaged him?

    â€œTurns out, I did have a pair of black cowboy boots, so I put on a pair of socks and the boots, and there I was, buck naked, wearing just the boots and a smile.”
    Art wasn’t paying attention so I cut the story short.
    â€œI get a lot of interesting requests,” I said. “If I can fulfill them, I do. If I can’t, I say so.”
    Art sighed as I rubbed his butt. “That’s good to know,” he replied. Really, what could he possibly ask me that I hadn’t already heard?
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    â€œThank you, Mike,” Art said at the end of a different visit, just having finished doing what he came to do. Lying on his back, he very calmly looked up to the ceiling and said, “Hey, Mike, can I ask you something?”
    I figured he wanted to try something a little kinkier, or maybe he had questions about HIV and STDs. If so, I was ready to refer him to some medical people I knew.
    Imagine my surprise when Art asked calmly, “What do you know about meth?”
    I wasn’t prepared for that one. In all my years being an escort, I had never had anyone ask me about drugs. Sure, many men showed up obviously high, drunk, or tweaking. I suppose I shouldn’t have been caught off guard, but Art seemed like such a clean-cut guy.
    â€œIt’s not really my thing,” I replied, as calmly as I could, touching his arm.
    â€œReally?” Art replied.
    â€œI don’t care for it personally, but I have friends that do it.” Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into?
    â€œSo you’ve done it?” he asked, with deep anticipation of my answer in his voice.
    â€œYes,” I replied, “a few times.” By this point, I’d known
Art for over a year, so I had no reason to think this was a setup, but that thought still goes through your mind when you’re in the business. “Like I said, I didn’t care for it.” I really wanted to emphasize that point to make sure he got it.
    â€œYour friends, why do they like it?”
    Is this guy really that naïve or is he fishing for something? “They say it enhances their sexual pleasure. I guess it just makes you less inhibited, especially if you are doing something you feel you shouldn’t be doing.” Ouch, did I really say that to Art?
    â€œDo you know where I can get some?” he asked.
    I paused and thought a moment, nervously. “I don’t deal, if that’s what you’re asking.” I had to get that in there, figuring that if there was a bug somewhere, that had better be part of the tape.
    â€œI’d just like to try some.” I wondered where he got the idea that crystal meth would be worth trying. “Can you hook me up?”
    Picture the best day of your life when everything is going right. You just hit the lottery, you just had a brand new beautiful baby, and nothing could seem better than that moment in life. That’s what it can feel like the first time you use meth. It’s a sex drug. It can make you feel euphoric or paranoid, energetic or sleep deprived, but its effect can go in either direction.
    Methamphetamine doesn’t occur naturally, like cocaine or marijuana. It’s a synthetic nervous-system stimulant. For the casual user, it can enhance sexual pleasure, but for the addict, it can control and ruin lives.
    I still had no reason to think