Friendly Competition

Brandi Love's fuming in her car, phone glued to her ear, ripping into her receptionist. Another damn regular just bailed to that shiny new salon down the block—this makes four who've jumped ship. She's done playing nice. What the hell are they slinging over there that's snatching her loyal clients who've stuck with her for years? Screw it, time to crash their party undercover. She tells her receptionist to book a slot under a fake name, call from a payphone to keep it sneaky. Can't have them sniffing her out. Ping—text comes in. Massage locked and loaded; head over now. Brandi struts to the parlor, pushes through the door. She scans the joint and scowls. Tacky as hell, like a cheap hooker's boudoir. Jill Kassidy pops up, all smiles: 'Can I help you?' Brandi's got her back turned. She spins around, and Jill's eyebrows shoot up, clocking her instantly. 'First time here?' Jill asks, cool as ice, knowing damn well this bombshell owns the rival spot. 'You work around here?' Jill bites her tongue on spilling the beans, plays it smooth. 'Welcome aboard. How can I serve you?' Brandi smirks. 'Heard folks griping about this dump. How's it even staying afloat?' Jill grins, loving the spy game. 'If you're here for a rubdown, I'll show you exactly why we're killing it.' Brandi eyes the table. 'That flimsy thing hold up under a real woman?' She stomps over, shoves down hard to prove her point. Jill shrugs. 'Go on, strip down.' Brandi shoots back, 'You turning around, or what?' Jill chuckles. 'Honey, naked ladies? Seen 'em all before—wouldn't be my first rodeo.' Brandi's eyes flash defiance. She peels off her clothes, flings them in a heap on the floor. 'Happy now, smartass?' Jill just smiles, feet planted firm. 'Lie down, gorgeous.' Oil hits Brandi's back cold—splat. 'Wrong move,' Brandi snaps. 'Warm it in your hands first, then slather it on.' Jill gets the test vibe, plays along. 'Whoops, my bad.' Fingers dig into her back, and Brandi nitpicks. 'Technique's sloppy—learned that in some back-alley dive?' Jill grits her teeth, holding fire. 'My clients beg for more. Guess that's why we're swiping yours left and right.' Brandi fires back, 'Pfft, newbies shine bright at first, but they crash and burn in two years flat.' Jill's hands slide to that juicy ass, kneading deep. Brandi moans a little. 'Okay, that's... surprisingly hot.' Jill leans in. 'This how you work your clients over at your place?' Brandi's busted, face flushing like a thief caught red-handed. She exhales shaky. 'How'd you peg me?' Jill bursts out laughing. 'You don't remember? Years back, I hit up your salon—best damn massage ever. Sparked my fire to get into this game.' Brandi's eyes light up. 'Holy shit, you're that girl! So glad to see you owning it!