I've loved nearly every minute of the last six years, but sitting here on a flight back home from Las Vegas; I can't really believe how it all happened to little ole me.
I'm Charlotte and was 20 and working in an Italian restaurant as a waitress when my story; or at least the part you're interested in started.
As I said, I was 20 but I always got asked for ID when I went into bars or clubs, because of my petite 5ft zero height, slim torso and 'angelic' face combined to make me look a lot younger. The only thing in my favour is my large C cup bust; which I've never been shy in showing off.
On the night in question I was wearing a new figure hugging dress that ended about six inches above my knees and had a 'Grandad' style neck with 5 buttons; of which 4 were left open showing plenty of cleavage; which was always a good 'tip earner' for me. I was also wearing a new pair of black patent 18 eyelet Doc Marten boots with a double sole (and a zip on the inside thankfully) and was wearing my long dirty blonde hair in a pony-tail.
About 9pm three rather handsome slightly Bohemian 'arty type' men arrived for a booking and I showed them to their table, leading the way knowing they would be getting a good look at my cute arse as I deliberately wiggled my hips.
It would have been my guess that they were all about 30; an age that wouldn't put me off in the slightest; bearing in mind I'd lost my virginity to one of my Dad's golfing buddies who had a son in my class at school!
Ten minutes later I served them their drinks, making sure I leaned forward enough for the one at the back to get a good look down the front of my dress; which he made no attempt to avoid, much to his friends' amusement.
Soon afterwards a table close by came free and it was my job to clean up the mess; which meant having to kneel on the long seat to wipe up the mess a kid had made. When started this manoeuvre I genuinely never thought about the view these men would get as my first thoughts were clearing up for the group that were waiting impatiently.
It was only when I made my way backwards that it dawned on me. I shot a look over my shoulder and saw all three grinning as I fumbled for the hem of my dress and yanked it down as far as it would go. Thankfully no one else would have had the same view, plus they were all engrossed in their own lives.
"Enjoy the show?" I whispered as I walked past their table with my hands full of plates and glasses.
"Hell yeah!" The one with a shaved head and hipster beard chuckled; "was that extra or included in the service charge?"
I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows then moved quickly to the kitchen.
The trio were good fun as I served them their pizzas and further drinks over the next hour or so; and when it came to paying the bill added a bigger tip than I'd expected; and the one with long hair promised to return soon ... which git a laugh from his buddies.
On the stroke of 10 o'clock I made for the rest room, quickly applied some bright red lipstick, put on my leather biker jacket and made my way to a club I went to every weekend, where I would dance myself dizzy and drink myself stupid!
I'd started working at the restaurant in my last year at school and kinda got stuck there; working Thursday to Saturday's 1pm to 10 and Sundays noon til 4; promising myself that I'd either get a 'proper job' or go to college; but didn't do anything about it; as I enjoyed the job and my boss was lovely.
The obvious downside was getting a boyfriend who didn't mind not seeing me on a weekend; and still living at home, left me at the mercy of drunken one night stands or the occasional fling with a married man; both of which happened fairly regularly ..... as I loved sex more than I wanted a relationship.
The weekend went by in the blink of an eye; and apart from going to the gym nothing happened in my life until the Thursday night when the long haired Bohemian returned; flying solo which I thought was 'interesting'. Funnily enough I was wearing the same black dress and boots combo as the previous weekend, as I was going through my 'Tank Girl' phase.
I tried to be coy, but experience told me to welcome him back; "Was there something special last week that's made you come back so soon?" I teased; and bless him, he blushed.
As the restaurant was quite busy and the staff limited I was busier than I'd have liked; but still had some conversation when I served him; and eventually as he played with the remnants of his beer I got the feeling that he was nervously going to ask me out on a date; but as he paid the bill he asked something completely different!
"Have you ever modelled?"
I shook my head and smiled; "Modelling? Mucky stuff?" I replied.
"Not exactly." He grinned, now appearing more confident. "Or at least, it doesn't have to be, I do all kinds really." Then he handed me a business card that gave his name Jonty Gillan Photography, the studio address and a mobile phone number. "I've got lots of different clients some are hairdressers and I think they'd love you to model for them...and me."
I had to cut the conversation short as I was needed elsewhere; so we agreed I'd think about it and call him if I was interested.
Was I interested? I didn't know as it had come right out of the blue, but I kept churning it over in my head for the rest of my shift. I kept smiling as while I'm reasonably pretty I suppose; but surely my height and build would normally preclude me from actual modelling, surely?
On Friday morning as I ate breakfast I kept picking up the card and looking at it, especially the handwritten website on the back, as if it was going to reveal something new that I hadn't seen the last twenty times I'd looked at it.
Eventually, coffee in hand I fired up my laptop and checked out his website. From what I could see he was very talented both in his studio and in the countryside too, with pictures of both male and female models of all ages and colours, families too. Nothing too racy which was a relief, I think.
The more I looked, the more I got excited at the prospect of modelling for him.
I sent him a text and said I was interested.
His response was instant "Great, when U free for a test shoot?"
"Monday?"
"Busy Mon morn -- how bout 2pm?"
"Cool ... do I need to bring anything?"
"HAHAHA...You r keen! Just wear that dress and boots from last night. I have sum ideas."
"ok"
Shit! 'Ideas'??? What could that mean?