I'll Make You Ten Years Younger
"There was a client who left around two, right?"
Shin Iseol's face was still flushed bright red, and she clearly had no idea what to do with herself. When I asked again, she snapped back to her senses and peered at the computer on the counter.
"Y-yes. What about that client?"
"Reassign her to me from now on."
"...? Do you know her?"
"No. Same as when you asked me to introduce you to some handsome stranger you didn't know, Iseol. She's pretty, so I want her as my client."
"Ugh. That woman is a total VIP. She's been coming here for two years already—a VVVVIP. One wrong move and the shop loses its cash cow."
"Either way, I won the bet, so please do it. Or what, Shin Iseol—you're not the type to say one thing and mean another, are you?"
When I needled her pride just so, Shin Iseol's face crumpled. She scribbled something on a Post-it, slapped it onto her notebook with irritation, then checked the calendar as if confirming a schedule before speaking again.
"Her name is Park Yuyoung. She's scheduled to come the day after tomorrow. She comes exactly twice a week on weekdays, like clockwork. I'll contact her to say her therapist has changed. I'll even throw in a bit of an exaggerated re-re-recommendation... Otherwise she probably won't accept it."
"Excellent. You're more trustworthy than I expected."
"Oh, please, what do you take me for... Ah, and! If you go around saying weird things to the staff, I really won't let it slide..! I'm the one in charge of personnel here..!"
She huffed and puffed, unable to contain her anger. Watching her, I smiled to myself, the corners of my mouth twitching. I was remembering the face she'd made with her lips parted, moaning. Back then I'd almost gone and kissed her. That melting expression had been so lewd it completely undercut her personality.
Shin Iseol kept grumbling for a long while, writing on Post-its and sticking them down over and over. After a stretch of that, she noticed I was still standing there beside her and told me to sit for a moment.
"Wh-what is it..."
She hemmed and hawed. Wondering what she was taking so long to say, I stared openly at the side of her face until she registered my gaze and flushed again. This time, though, she didn't get angry. Instead she looked away and spoke.
"Since I already lost the bet anyway... can I ask you for another favor next time?"
"For what?"
"Ah, what else would it be? A massage. Should I pay you?"
Heh.
She'd understood perfectly and still flared up at my teasing follow-up question. Clearly my massage had hit the mark. Watching her set her pride aside and ask like that made it obvious.
"Alright. Next time we'll book it properly. I don't have any clients of my own yet, so I'll be free for a while, won't I?"
"For a while? You're awfully confident. If I don't assign you anyone, you'll be free forever, you know."
"I'm saying that because the weird sounds you made kind of proved something. Those moans."
"Ah, seriously! I told you not to go around saying weird things."
"Is there anyone else here besides us?"
Shin Iseol tipped her head back against the chair with a look of pure exhaustion. She was annoyed, but she couldn't argue—I wasn't wrong. I leaned my upper body in toward her and whispered so only she could hear.
"Next time I can do your whole body. Of course, we'll have to make another bet then, too."
I held her gaze for a while with a sly smile. It might have sounded like I was crossing a line, but what was going through her head was obvious without looking. I'd only kneaded her shoulders and the nape of her neck for a short while and she'd felt that good. So how good would it feel if I worked out every stiff spot—her back, her waist, her calves, her pelvis?
Even as I grinned at her, she couldn't manage a reply and just went back to grumbling under her breath, pretending to work.
About an hour must have passed. Shin Iseol guided a few clients in and out, repeating the cycle. In the meantime I carefully observed their faces and figures, careful not to get caught. Women waiting with their feet soaking in warm water.
Clients with bodies as good as Park Yuyoung's were rare. There were heavier women, and plenty of moms in their fifties and up. But every so often, like pearls in the mud, pretty women with excellent figures were mixed in among them.
From what I'd heard, the shop did more than massage—there was waxing, and programs that only handled the face. So there were therapists who specialized in waxing alone, and they worked on the third floor. Waxing was mostly Brazilian. There was partial waxing too, but most people bought the products and did partial work themselves at home.
Waxing, huh... So anyone who'd just had that done would have zero hair around their genitals. Major checkpoint.
"The director called. He says to let Kang Junhyun leave early. He must be in a really good mood today... How was it today? You had fun teasing me, didn't you?"
"Yes. Living long enough, you get to see all sorts of rare sights."
"Ha, seriously. Just clock out already. And pretend everything that happened today was a dream and forget it."
"Is it really that easy to forget?"
"Seriously!"
I left the furious Shin Iseol behind, changed clothes, and headed out.
Evening already. Normally I would have clocked out when the shop closed at ten, but I'd left a full three hours early. With my life transforming this fast, time itself felt like it was speeding up. Teasing that prickly Shin Iseol all day had been fun enough to make my mouth water. I'd cured the bald pretty boy's erectile dysfunction, too. The fact that all of it had happened in a single day was almost unbelievable.
Back home, I thought about the red spots and blue spots only I could see, turning over what they really were. I'd been able to see them since I was a kid. Even watching porn, I'd seen red spots flickering rapidly across the actresses' bodies. At first I'd thought women just got spots like that when they got turned on. I'd been so pure back then. Ah, the beautiful virgin years of my youth.
Now I knew for certain that wasn't it.
While studying massage online, I'd pieced together a few facts and drawn some inferences.
The red spots indicated fascia that was twisted or locked up. The human body was organically interlinked, so relaxing one muscle caused contraction somewhere else. That explained the phenomenon when I'd massaged Jin Ayoung's ankle and the red spots had spread and bloomed elsewhere.
Then what about the blue spots? They seemed to mark functional disorders. Erectile dysfunction was, after all, a disorder of genital function. Whatever muscle sat around the erector spinae might not have a direct connection to the genitals, but as I'd already learned, the human body was ultimately connected as one organic whole.
All of that was still only inference. It looked worth testing further going forward.
And separate from the inferences, there was one solid fact.
The ability to see the spots was an ability perfectly suited to massage.
I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. No need to jerk off. No need to force sleep with soju. No need to scramble desperately for sex, either. When I closed my eyes, sleep simply came.
The next day, Choi Wonjae called me aside and formally thanked me. He also apologized for the day before.
I remembered the sight of his back as he'd bolted off after getting his erectile dysfunction treated. It wasn't hard to understand. Back when I'd been a virgin who'd never dated, I'd dashed out the second some bitch who wanted to drain me dry called, too. (Of course, the situations were very different.)
"Ayoung has such a good eye for people—too good. How did she even bring in a benefactor like you? But how do you know Ayoung?"
How was I supposed to say I'd stopped her from killing herself? Since Wonjae had called her his benefactor, telling the truth might even help her psychologically. But I wasn't in any position to meddle in someone else's life...
"I met her at the place where Jin Ayoung works."
I left it at that and moved on. Choi Wonjae heard me out and nodded.
"I'll personally train you carefully going forward. Today just observe what I do. The detailed skills will be taught by another therapist."
Another therapist?
Yesterday, while touring the shop with Shin Iseol, I'd greeted about five masseurs. The roster ran from seasoned veterans to young, fresh-faced therapists, and among them one beauty in particular had stood out—though no one had given me her name. Apparently there was no need for me to know, or something like that...
So I ended up watching Choi Wonjae work in the VIP room. He informed the fully undressed client lying on the bed that a new masseur would be observing, and made sure she knew the observer was male. The client, somewhere in her mid-to-late forties, nodded as if it were no big deal. Only her hips were covered by a towel, and she showed not a shred of embarrassment. It made me think, so this is the composure of a mature woman?
Her age showed, and yet her lines were elegant—she'd clearly maintained her body with care. Warm oil sliding over her skin, Choi Wonjae's soft hands. Even under a touch that could easily have felt suggestive, she didn't move an inch.
Meanwhile I carefully studied the feast of red spots covering her. Observation sessions like this were definitely useful for me. Choi Wonjae, who couldn't possibly see the red spots, still navigated through them with incredible skill. I also learned how to press those areas more effectively for better results.
For the front massage, he covered her chest with a towel and had her flip over. Her heavy, mature breasts swayed as she settled onto the bed. Her face was quite beautiful, too—like those elegantly aged women I'd sometimes seen in milf porn. She must have been popular in her day. And at the same time another thought crossed my mind: with a husband at home, did she run around having affairs or not?
I was staring openly at the client's face when she rolled her eyes toward me.
"Is that the new guy?"
"Yeah. Young but skilled. Massage alone is top-notch."
The mature woman let out a short laugh.
"Only the director would say that."
"He might get better than me."
"Come on. Real joke. Didn't you say your career was fifteen years?"
"Unofficially, twenty."
"Ah, right! Director, yesterday I went to a club with my younger sisters and got my number asked. When I asked, they were a full twelve years younger than me."
"Nothing surprising. Isn't that natural? Didn't they check your ID once?"
"Ah, when did I! Not that much."
She reacted strongly to Choi Wonjae's flattery, but the corners of her mouth were nearly at her ears.
"With two kids, no one maintains a body like this."
Choi Wonjae massaged her abdomen, his hands moving softly. He traced her slim waist—impressive for a married woman—and followed the line of her pelvis down, his hands frequently slipping under the towel. From the outline rising against the fabric, it really looked like she was barely walking a tightrope. Without waxing, pubic hair would have rasped against his skin.
"That's true. You know Misook's mom? The one who came on my introduction last time."
"I know that ajumma. After her second kid she gained so much weight and complained. Complained the whole~ time during the massage. Shows up in my dreams even."
"Right~ But you know what she said to me? She says she gains weight just drinking water. She has no idea how hard I work to maintain this."
As she spoke, the woman glanced my way.
"How old?"
I was briefly flustered, but answered calmly.
"Twenty-nine."
"Young. How old do I look?"
"Well... I'm not sure."
"Guess."
From the side, Choi Wonjae said casually,
"Hey, why ask something like that."
"Why~ I can ask. I'm curious. I didn't tell him how old I am, right?"
"No."
"I'm an ajumma with two kids. How old do I look?"
I pretended to think for a moment, then answered.
"Late forties..?"
"Oh my. You're giving me a young estimate. How kind."
The flattery didn't seem to land as well as she'd hoped; her reaction was flat. A brief silence fell, and Choi Wonjae and I exchanged looks a few times. Was he giving me a signal? But I had no intention of ending the conversation there. From the way she talked, this woman had enough money to introduce her acquaintances. The fact that she came to maintain her body with two kids meant she had the free time for self-care, so she'd show up here whenever she could spare a moment.
I decided I needed to captivate this woman's heart in one go. A bit of a gamble. But that was fine. I had something to rely on.
"But it seems like you have somewhere that's uncomfortable. If I just clear that out, your skin will look ten years younger."
"?"
Both of them stiffened for a moment at my remark.
No need to flinch. I had my own confidence. I sent my gaze toward her pelvis—toward the vivid blue spot buried deep in her inner thigh.
I spoke to the woman as provocatively as I could.
"Leave it to me and I'll make sure not just guys twelve years younger, but guys my age ask for your number too."