The door bore only the title: T.P AUDITIONS: MODELS SIGN UP stencilled on it. The couple paused to glance at each other, both of them swelling with anticipation before they knocked on the door and a voice inside told them to come in.
A handsome black man wearing a turtleneck sweater and black pair of jeans sat on the other side of a table. His name was Byron, and today he was stuck with procuring fresh, pretty models for upcoming Tongue Patrol projects. His table was laden with snapshots and contact info on numerous models desiring to come onboard. The lady entering his office with her boyfriend in tow was one of such models whom he'd invited over for an interview.
"Hi there," he got up and shook hands with both of them, focusing his attention on the lady. "You must be Cathy, right? A pleasure to meet you."
She smiled. "Yes, that's me. This here is Andrew," she introduced her boyfriend to Byron who mentioned to him who he was before telling them to sit down. He got down to business after that.
"So Andrew, I take it that Cathy has already briefed you into her reason for being here, right?" Andrew grinned: "Yes, she has. I also thought I'd come along, just so she'd how much I totally support what she wants to go into."
Cathy's eyes at that moment did an unobtrusive three-sixty in their sockets as if wanting to say: support me? Yeah right. Byron did see the look and knew what it meant but didn't give any hint he'd noticed. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such. A lot of wannabe models, from past experience, despise coming in here with their men in tow -- the air usually becomes a little tense and the ladies all sort of cease being relaxed ... being comfortable for the interview, and a lot of the guys too are complete morons, the type who'd trail alongside their woman to the beauty salon and even the ladies room if they could. Byron couldn't help but feel sorry for them ...just like this clown here.
The chick was without a doubt a hottie -- that you could easily tell: low-cropped red hair, full lips, long pair of legs and slender frame with standing tits; her top was a bit revealing to show that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her man looked nothing more than a typical average Joe: funny looking t-shirt, jeans and timberlands -- looked like someone who'd just stepped out of last year's Sears & Roebuck catalogue.
"I was just looking through her photos of her," Byron said. "She's obviously the type of model we're looking for. Very lovely shots they are."
"Yeah," Andrew gloated. "I took them myself."
"Is that so? You ought to go into photography. The snapshots are very okay. However I hope both of you are aware that it's for an adult material? Good." He then said to Cathy: "Perhaps you wouldn't mind taking off your clothes and just show me a sample of your hot body."
"Sure, why not." Cathy got up and stood slightly away from them and began to undress. She took her gentle time, turning around to present Byron with what she had underneath. First off was her top -- she wasn't wearing any bra, as Byron had already noticed -- then unbuckled her belt and pulled down her jeans. Byron complimented her ass which was well curved and fleshy; just the right type of ass that would feel good getting slammed by a black dick, he thought to himself. She played with her tits, made her nipples stand erect, and did a pirouette, totally enjoying herself.
Byron told her she had herself figure. Cathy said thanks, wore her clothes back on and returned to her chair just when her boyfriend inquired as to what sort of feature she would be in.
"It's going to be an interracial, with lots of sex scenes thrown in the mix," Byron answered. He took out a DVD case from inside a drawer and gave it to both of them to see. The title of the case said: Tongue Patrol White Chicks #5. "We'll be filming the sixth edition two weeks from now, and so we'd like to --"
"Hell no," Andrew said suddenly, dropping the case on the desk and rising to his feet; he was no longer smiling. "I'm sorry but I'm not into any interracial stuff, and I know Cathy wouldn't be interested either. I'm sorry."
Cathy looked at her boyfriend with shock and anger. "Andy, what --"
"Trust me Cathy, it's for your own good." He turned to Byron, looking apologetic. "Look man ... I don't have anything against blacks -- I really don't -- I'm just not into anything interracial, that's all. That's just the way it is."
An awkward moment passed through the room and for almost five seconds, neither person said anything. Byron was taken aback by his statement, but it was a good thing his demeanour remained unfazed.
