People think I’m a stay-at-home mom, but I secretly work at a ‘massage parlor’

If you look around the room, it could be a scene from a girls’ night out that ends with drinks at someone’s house.

I am one of seven women who laugh and gossip while drinking tea and swapping stories about our children.

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But there is something very clearly different: we are half naked and in the waiting room of a massage parlor.

At any moment one of us could be chosen by a gambler to go up with them.

And it won’t be for a massage – it’ll be for sex, because I’ve never seen a man come here for anything else.

The married ones are the hottest and if yours regularly disappears on Thursdays, he’s probably having sex with me. That’s the day the husbands seem to prefer.

I have my own room in the three-storey building on a street in the seaside town of Blackpool, Lancs, infamous for its ‘red light district’. I work when the children are at school or with their father every other weekend.

The room is clean, with a mattress, a plastic sheet, a shower that I encourage the men to use and the bed is taken down after each meeting. I even draped some Christmas lights around the room and burned scented candles.

Before I worked in a massage parlor, I always imagined the women being thin, young, and beautiful, possibly using their income to finance their drug addictions.

I couldn’t have been more wrong, because we come in all shapes and sizes, from overly curvaceous to paper-thin skinny. I’m 6 feet tall, small, size 12, mother of three.

The oldest woman I work with is in her late fifties. She has done this ‘work’ for over twenty years, while the youngest of the couple is in her early twenties.

We are ordinary women, most of us are mothers and we are just trying to make ends meet.

I am not ashamed of the work I do and if it weren’t for my children, who are aged between 11 and 17, I would tell everyone I am a sex worker, but there is still such a stigma attached to it that I keep it a secret from everyone except my best friends.

Ironically, the mothers at the school gates think I’m a stay-at-home mother. It’s surreal that when I stand at that gate, most of the time I’ve had a shift where I’ve had sex with a bunch of complete strangers.

You wouldn’t let me talk to someone so seductively in real life – and I never kiss a gambler.

Karen44

It’s work I started out of desperation – like many of the girls who work here. I have Universal Credit which doesn’t cover my expenses, and the father of my children provides a pitifully small amount of child support.

Although there are summer jobs in the hospitality industry where I live, the competition is fierce. I have my regular customers in the milking parlour, all year round.

I started in reception, recommended by a friend, but when I saw how much the girls could earn – sometimes £1,500 a week – I decided to give it a try.

That was after a month and six years, I’m still here.

Of course it’s not my dream job, but I wouldn’t make the same money anywhere else. I’ve tried everything from cafe work to cleaning, and the stint I did on a caravan site was despicable.

We are not competing to be chosen, there is enough work for all of us. Sometimes there are fifteen women working, we are all busy and I can work through ten men in one shift.

Karen44

The people there were dirty and left dirty diapers in the bed and once even in the oven.

Moreover, I can choose my hours here, which is an advantage of the job.

The first time I had sex with a guy I was drunk and felt dirty afterwards, but it’s surprisingly easy to get used to and by the end of the week it felt easy.

How do I deal with it? I separate my ‘normal’ life from my work life and that is helped by the fact that I use a different name, wear different clothes and behave differently.

One asked me to be his ‘girlfriend’ and go out on the town in Blackpool with him once a week without even having sex, for £500 a month.

I rejected him, the boundaries would have been blurred. When I leave, I’m back to myself, showered and dressed in sweatpants and Primark underwear, not lace ruffled pants. For that reason, I can have normal relationships even though I’m currently single.

The types of men I see are split into two different groups. Monday through Thursday we tend to get older men and regulars in – I’m sure more than half of them are married.

From Thursday evening to Sunday we see a much younger clientele: guys on a night out or stag parties, cheering each other on. We don’t let a whole bunch of people in at once, but if they come in a few minutes apart, they are welcome.

Anyone would think I enjoy being with these guys.

There are baby wipes on my bedside table, along with condoms – I always have safe sex, there are no exceptions. I know some salons are much bigger, with just a mattress on the floor.

We are not competing to be chosen, there is enough work for all of us. Sometimes there are fifteen women working, we are all busy and I can work through ten men in one shift.

The money is good, I charge £60 for full sex and less for manual or oral sex and I have to pay £200 a week to the owner for my room.

There are a few guys who give off a creepy vibe that I refuse to see, but most of them are regular guys, some are even quite attractive.

One of them only sees his regular wife once a week, but often comes over for a chat and a cup of tea because he is lonely.

It’s easy to grow fond of your regulars… I feel sorry for them.

KarenMother of two

Admittedly, it’s easy to grow to love your regulars; they even give me Christmas cards and I feel sorry for them. The story is always the same: the woman has lost interest in both sex and him as a man.

I believe them. There is no need to lie to me, although they could lie to themselves.

Contrary to what I did, I never enjoyed the sex. I’ve learned tricks – like humming during oral sex – to get rid of it as quickly as possible and my fake orgasm is legendary. They are all outside within half an hour. All the girls I know are the same. It’s a job that pays well and that’s all.

Once we have showered and are back home with our family, we put it out of our minds.

The good thing about working in a massage parlor is that you are safe: there is always someone who can help you.

It makes me angry that what I do is illegal, we have been raided by the police a few times.

We are closed for a few days each time, but when the crowds decrease, we open again.

I’ve turned down even more bizarre requests, like urinating on men. Even in my work there is a line that I simply cannot cross.

There are two main things that make me do what I do: the money and the other girls. We are good friends, we take care of each other, go shopping together and gossip about our customers.

I’m not ashamed of it. If anyone should do that, it’s the married men who lie to their wives. Not us.

*Name has been changed