Hi, my name is Tabbi, and I love having sex. Or maybe I should say I love to be fucked. The kinkier the better. I have kind of a weird fetish, though. I like to be objectified. Like, I mean, I like the idea of a man seeing me as nothing but a sex toy created for his pleasure. I also get immense pleasure from giving blow jobs, and give them lovingly and frequently. I've been told that I'm pretty much built to be a sex toy, with my big tits, round hips and ass, big soft lips (no gag reflex!), clear pale skin and flaming red hair.
I grew up sheltered, with very strict parents, but that didn't completely keep me from having fun. (Yay for tattoo artist that don't check sexy girls' IDs!) Though I lost my virginity at 15, and discovered my fetish soon after, I didn't get to start really indulging myself until I turned 18 and moved to a different city.
But enough with introductions, I wanted to tell you about my job interview.
So, I had just moved to my new city (one of the big ones) and I needed a job. I had spent most of my savings on either the move, beauty stuff, or new clothes and toys. Plus I wanted to see if I could make a fantasy of mine come true. I had been a waitress before, so I browsed the internet looking for one of those restaurants where the waitresses wear skimpy outfits, like Twin Peaks, or Tilted Kilt. I browsed some reviews of different ones until I found the perfect fit for me. It was a 15 minute walk from my apartment, It wasn't part of a big franchise, and there were a few reviews left by former waitresses complaining about the creeper manager. I was already getting excited.
I got dressed up in matching black lace panties and push up bra, a tight white button up shirt with one too many buttons undone, (as my mom would have pointed out) and a form fitting black pencil skirt. I had my nails done in shiny black and had matching black ballet heels with little locks on the ankles. Thick eye-liner, bright red lips with lots of lip gloss and i was ready to go!
I left my apartment and walked to the restaurant. (I had just gotten my ballet heels the week before and had worn them almost constantly since so I could get used to them.) as I got closer to the restaurant I got more and more nervous. not in a bad way, but that kind of nervous that's half excited. I got a couple good confidence boosts from men checking me out of catcalling me as I made my way. I walked in and saw all the beautiful waitresses dressed in sexy schoolgirl outfits. You could see their white panties under their plaid skirts any time they bent over even a bit, and they had sheer white collard shirts that ties just below their breasts. I filled out an application and the hostess told me that only the manager accepts applications and I would need to bring it to his office in the back.
Several men eyed me lustfully as I made my way through the restaurant and kitchen and found Mr. Adam's office. My knock was answered immediately with a curt "One second!" Then I heard a lower "Come in." I obeyed. I also closed the door behind me.
Mr. Adam's office was small, warm and sort of seedy. It had a run down look to it that matched it's owner. He was out of shape and middle aged. A little bit of sweat stood out on his brow, just below his receding hairline. He had no wedding ring, but a cheap polo-shirt and slacks.
I stood just in front of his door as his eyes crawled down from my hair, down past my shiny red lips, my chest, hips, and legs. His eyes got big for just a moment as he saw my ballet heels with their padlocks and he smiled as his gaze rose to rest at my chest.
"Here for an interview?"
"Yes, sir."
"You can set your purse in the basket next to the door and have a seat."
I turned around and bent at the waist to drop my purse in, giving him a nice view before sitting down.
"I'm Mr. Adam, the owner and manager here."
"Tabbi. Nice to meet you."
He took my application and read through it, glancing back and fourth between it and my breasts.
"It looks like you definitely have the right qualifications for this job. How would you feel about answering a few questions?"
"I'd love to."
He fished a piece of paper out of his drawer and looked at it, then into my eyes.
"Good! Are you currently in a relationship? We like to make sure everyone is comfortable here at Adam's Pub, and we've had a few incidents in the past with jealous boyfriends and such."
"No, I just moved here, and haven't really met anyone yet, but I'm always looking for ways to make new friends"
"Oh? Well welcome to the big city, sweetie.
Eyes down to his paper, then back to mine.
"Now next question: Since you will be classified as an entertainer, as opposed to a waitress, there are certain extra health and beauty standards that you will need to obey. I don't see you having many problems with that, but I have to ask. Do you take care of take care of your figure? Exercise?"
"Yes, actually I just signed up for hot yoga classes at a gym near my new apartment."
His gaze drifted back to my body. "Mmmm. And what do you wear during yoga?
I blushed and smiled. "Well usually I stick with a sports bra and spanks."
"And do you like all that bending and stretching? Does it make you more flexible?"
I decided to be a bit flirty. "It really does, I just love how relaxing it is to stretch and contort and work up a sweat. And you wouldn't believe how flexible it's made me."
He smiled and drank in my body with his eyes. "Do you have any tattoos, or scars that might be unappealing to our customers?"
This was my shot. "I have a few tattoos, should I show them to you, to make sure they're okay for work?"
His eyes got big again for a second and he eagerly agreed. I stood up and unzipped my skirt, sliding it down over my thighs and heels. Then unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my flat tummy, and my well presented breasts. I took a step closer to his desk and gestured toward the pastel peacock that started mid way up my thigh and ended just below my panties. He smiled and leaned in for a closer look, his smile growing. I was getting wet. I angled my hip to show off my Mexican Day-of-the-dead skeleton, just below my stomach on my right hip. He smiled up at me and I smiled back, biting my lip, just a little bit.
He craned his neck around to see the writing on my left side, then put his hand on my hip and angled my waist for a better look. My body was so primed that I felt an electric jolt go through me.
"What does that say?"
On my left side, curving around to my back in small cursive handwriting it says "Je suis une salope muette et j'aime avaler sperme" I told him it meant "I love my life, and will love who I become." The same lie I told my parents, when they happened to see my first tattoo. It was something that the man who took my virginity taught me to say as my mantra. It was only a white lie though, because the literal translation would have given my game up too soon.
His response was "Lovely. Great art on a perfect canvas."
"You really like it?"
"Mmmmm. Yes I do. Do you have any more?"
"Just one" This was the part I was most nervous about. I walked around his desk and faced him, he pulled out in his chair to get square with me. He seemed embarrassed when i noticed the bulge in his slacks. There was a filing cabinet against the wall that wouldn't let me back up anymore, so when I bent over and let my hair fall off my shoulders he was a bit shocked and followed my face as it came to rest mere inches away from his swollen manhood, so it took him a moment to look back up between my shoulder blades, where he saw "My name is Tabbi" tattooed in a way that would be upside down if I were standing up.
"Is that real?" he reached out and ran his thumb across the words, then let it rest on my shoulder. I kept my shoulder at the same level as I transitioned to my knees and looked up into his eyes, biting my lip. My pussy was on fire.
"I really want to work here, Mr. Adam."
He was breathing heavy by this point. He had finally caught on. "How badly do you wanna work here, Tabbi?"
I kept eye contact as I reached out and unbuttoned his pants. I started to unzipped them when he grabbed both my hands in one of his and quietly said "I want to know how bad you want this job."
