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Only in America	By : EldritchSandwich Category: +S through Z > Saints Row Views: 10317 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Saints Row franchise or any of its characters, and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
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When she was fifteen, America Elena "Skins" Ortega learned that she became just as useless when there was a pair of tits in her face.
All she'd wanted was to buy some weed without having to suck a guy's dick. That should have been simple enough, but Encanto's dealers had all been absorbed by Los Carnales over the years, which meant they could do whatever they wanted without having to worry about losing their customers. After the third one had made it clear in no uncertain terms that there was exactly one way for a pretty teenage girl to pay for anything, she'd been forced to go to Chinatown.
And thus she found herself in a seedy massage parlor, beating the shit out of a businessman with her bare hands.
It hadn't been something she'd been looking for. She'd gone through a string of contacts who led her to the receptionist, who muttered something in Cantonese and poked a finger toward the end of the hall. She tried to ignore the obvious sounds of happy endings coming from beyond the paper walls, and she was doing a pretty good job until one of the doors ripped open, a half-naked Asian girl thrashing with her arm caught in the grip of a cursing white guy.
"The fuck do you think you're going? You know what I paid for..."
"You not pay for anything! You get out! Let me go!"
The man was starting to win the battle for leverage, and the other doors were remaining stubbornly shut. America felt a growl rising in her throat.
"Hey, culero! She said get the fuck off!"
The man looked down, fundamentally unimpressed by a lanky teenage girl in a basketball jersey. "Fuck off, spic. Go back to the barrio and learn how to suck cock like mommy."
Most people wouldn't have thought a pretty teenage girl could fistfight. Those people weren't from Encanto, and thus weren't aware of what had happened to all the boys who'd said that kind of thing about either Skins Ortega or her mother and didn't have Los Carnales to back them up. When the first punch hit his jaw with much more force than he could possibly have seen coming, the businessman ceased to be one of those people.
Given how often she got herself into trouble, America had learned to use her speed in a fight, and she managed to get in three solid, closed fists to the man's face before he backhanded her, the unexpected force slamming her against the wall. When he made the mistake of turning back toward the masseuse, America's sneaker came up between his legs, followed by an elbow in his back as he doubled over. The girl screamed as he collapsed, which was apparently finally enough to get two burly, featureless security guys to show up.
When one of them grabbed America by the shoulder, the masseuse started shrieking at him in Japanese. He pulled back, helping his buddy lift the dissatisfied customer, muttering something about a 'refund.'
As the masseuse leaned over her to slide the door closed, America realized it was now just the two of them.
The Asian girl laid a hand on America's swollen cheek, and the Latina swallowed; when she'd jumped to her rescue, she hadn't realized how pretty the girl was.
"You okay?"
The hand moved to her bruised nose, and America nodded. "Fine." She scrubbed a hand across her mouth. "What was up with that asshole, anyway?"
The girl helped her up to sit on the massage table, wordlessly reaching for a bowl of warm water and a towel from the rack on the wall. "He say he want blowjob. I say not that kind of happy ending we do. He say he pay double for blowjob. I say rules are hands only. Then he grab my head, try make me suck him off!" The girl smiled, dabbing gently at the swiftly-forming bruise on America's cheek. "Thank you for help me. Madam Wu not care what happen back here!"
The girl scooted closer, and America went tense as she suddenly felt the flesh of her breasts through her half-open kimono. Unfortunately, the girl noticed. "It hurt?"
"No! No. I just...I can see why a guy would want more from you. I mean, you're really pre...really sexy." America winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth; as if the way she looked at girls wasn't embarrassing enough without telling people about it.
The masseuse blinked, then a slow smile spread across her face. "You know, I have twenty minute now. Maybe I say thank you with...free massage?"
"I don't..." America's voice dropped dead as the girl stood and parted her robe, revealing firm, perky breasts, a slender waist, and a shaved pussy.
"You still think I sexy?" America just nodded mutely, amazed she could get her head to move at all. "Then lie on back."
America complied, swallowing nervously as the young woman trailed the edge of the jersey up over her chest. She hissed as her thick nipples were revealed to the cold air, then again when the girl's warm hands effortlessly slid her out of her shorts.
Just as America wondered whether she was supposed to turn over, the girl began to knead her hips. "Just relax. I do this every day."
America swallowed again. Relaxing was the last thing on her mind.
The Japanese girl's hands made gentle circles across her thighs, moving slowly up her stomach and leaving America's skin feeling like it was on fire.
"You like to look at girls?" As the girl's warm, slim fingers kneaded the skin just below her breasts, America just nodded. "You have girlfriend?"
America scoffed. "I don't think there's a lot of other tortilleras in Encanto..."
The masseuse giggled. "Ooh, I think you wrong. You so pretty and so strong, I think you get any girl you want..."
The gentle hands cupped her breasts, and America gasped. She had to fight to keep from squirming as the girl rolled the firm mounds under her palms, nipples growing painfully hard under her ministrations.
"Every girl want other girls. They just don't know it...and I think you show them..."
America moaned as one hand trailed down to cup her snatch, running through the curly black hair before rubbing across the mound. "I so grateful, I think I give you extra-happy ending."
America groaned in disappointment as the hands retreated, only for the masseuse to turn and use them to part her thighs. As pale lips moved downwards and smoky eyes held hers, America's breathing grew rapid. The masseuse smiled. "I think just this once, I break the rules..."
The smiling mouth descended, and any thought of how she was going to break this to her mother was blown from America's head.
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Only in America