So, every good journey has a beginning. While my fascination with the male sex organ began much earlier in life, my fascination with men at work began back at the young ol' age of 18. I was an experienced fellatrix, just not much experience with the work force. I was waitressing at a diner down the street from my mom's house. Bored with my future prospects, a summer's worth of post high school partying behind me. Now I was stuck in a dead end job. And any guy that knew me wanted nothing more than a warm mouth to park their cock in for as long as it took.
I should preface all of this with the following; while I have blown my fair share of employers over the last 10 years of working the convention circuit, i spent far more time gobbling dick in my four years of high school, than I have in the ten years since. I'll probably never tell those stories, but let the record show I wasn't sexually naive at the time I started what would become my career.
But so, there I am, slightly demoralized with my future prospects. There has to be something else I can do. I turn to craigslist, and hit the job hunt. Jobs which I am by far and wide, not qualified for. Or porn, and I have no interest in porn. In hindsight, it was a weird line, but there's something about the thought of being paid to put out that never turned me on. But, I do eventually find a job. A company is going to be at a boat show not too far from where I live, and they need models to work the show. The pay was $1,000 and the only thing I had to do was submit a photo of myself in a bathing suit.
I'm amazed I got the job, thinking about it now, but part of me figures I was one of the few women that applied to the ad. I mailed them a picture. Phones with awesome cameras were not as ubiquitous then as they are today. They existed, I just didn't have access to one. A week went by and I thought it was a wash, but three days before the show, I get an email that said I was in, and that I needed to be at the show at 7am. I replied back quickly, and then went out and bought five bathing suits, figuring I would give them options.
As it would turn out, my efforts were wasted. I arrived at the pier at nearly 6am. I had to argue with a security guard for a minute, before he escorted me over to the boat in question and got them to confirm I was in fact there to work with them. There's just two guys there so far. Both in polos and shorts, with black dress shoes. They have accents, but both speak perfectly understandable english. They hand me a bag, and tell me to go get changed below deck. I nod, smile, and head off. I find the tiny bathroom, strip all the way down, then pull the bathing suit out of the bag.
I thought I had a good idea of what a skimpy bikini looked like. But, up until I reached my hand into the bag, I did not know what a sling bikini was. It's like a rubber band that has half of it split down the middle. Just google it, god knows why I'm explaining something like that in this day and age. A pair of black heels completed the ensemble.
"I can't go out in public like this," i say to myself, holding the lime green strips of spandex next to me as i look in the mirror. I look at my crotch, and am presented with another problem. While it wasn't a bird's next, It was clear that the suit wanted to show more of my nether region than I had prepared for. I slip the suit on out of sheer curiosity, and sure enough, two light tufts of blonde fuzz peak out from around it.
"shit," i say, slipping it back off and going through the drawers of the bathroom. Nothing, no razors, scissors, not even nail clippers. I unlock the door and step out into the hall. I realize I'm buck naked, but dash for the kitchen area, continuing my search. By some mercy, I find a pair of scissors in a drawer of silverware. I return to the bathroom, put one foot up on the sink countertop, and begin trimming away as much as i can, all the while careful not to cut myself. The alarm on my phone goes off, and I realize I've been messing around down there (the bathroom, not 'down there') for nearly an hour. I shake my head, pull the sling suit on, feel my face flush momentarily then fade. I step into the heels, throw all my shit in the bag and head back upstairs.
I'm still the only girl there when I get back on deck. I see more people out and about on the pier as I look around, rubbing my shoulders. I feel completely naked. Th only part of my suit that i'm conscious of is the band of spandex so far up my ass crack I wonder if it's even visible from behind. I stumble about nervously on deck. Both guys are there, but they don't say a word to me. I'm not good in heels in the best of situations, and the slight roll of the boat means I'm holding onto every railing, rope or rigging I can. I make my way over to the ramp leading onto the boat and take a seat. Watching as more people set up for the show.
I don't know how much time passes, but a hand taps my shoulder. I turn to look up into the sunglassed eyes of one of the two men, and he hands me a bottle of suntan lotion. I thank him, standing up, and begin applying it, rubbing my hands and then rubbing my body. I think he can tell I'm having a slight hard time of it, standing there. Mostly I just feel self conscious rubbing myself. He walks up, leads me a few feet away from the walkway, towards the center of the deck,and spins me to face away from him, takes the bottle and squirts a generous portion into his hand. He then rubs them together, and places them on my shoulders, working it into my neck, my lower back, my stomach. He then proceeds to slide his hands up and go right over my breasts circling them. He doesn't squeeze my nipples, but he isn't shy about it either.
Then he's kneeling down, rubbing my ass and belly, my thighs. Again, his hands slide under what little there is of my outfit, applying lotion to my crotch and right up the crack of my ass.
