Sexy man seeks soccer mom guy, where art thee?

A tribute to the guy that must have found his soccer mom (finally) and the others who persist in soliciting free erotic massage.

I decide to skip work today and instead head out to Potomac Yard and stalk soccer moms. One of my usual places besides grocery stores and everywhere, malls are good places to stalk soccer moms. Waiting near the window of the Barnes and Noble, I spot my prey. She gets out of her red Dodge Durango and heads right toward me. I take it all in: the confidence, the big car, the whole package. I love it.

I follow her to the back of the store to the religion section. She’s checking out Tribulation Force by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins. I’m checking out her ample, thirty-something soccer mom rear. I approach.

"Ma'am," I say.
"Yes?" she replies.
"I’ll bet you’ll like the slick, sinister Romanian Nicolae Carpathia, who in this installment of the “Left Behind” series plans to use the UN to establish one world government and religion....and I know you’d really like a sensual massage."

So we head for the gender issues section. She wriggles out of her chinos and her lavender Ralph Lauren soft polo collar sweater as I doff my lime green polyester leisure suit and buffalo shirt. Keep in mind though, I know nothing of massage, having been trained in art history and currently work in economic policy.

I work her upper body, boobs, and then move on to her sacred spaces.
“Ouch,” she says. “Have you even done this before?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, “yesterday. Do you feel rejuvenated and cleansed in a complete way that enables you to feel whole and valued.?”
She responds, “Fuck no. The experience is painful, weird, and unfulfilling. I feel shame. Get off me.”

I scream like a little girl and run out of the store, thinking maybe I should check out what the Dress Barn has to offer in the way of soccer moms and opportunities to practice my art of sensual massage.