As luck would have it, I got hired for a TV show that has been a success. Who would have guessed that a television show about attic junk would draw a big audience?
I had worked as a make up and hair style artist for all sorts of small jobs on local TV and for community theater, but only as a part time job. Then I got the call to help with this new program. At first it was just for one show, but then they hired me for the whole season's tour.
I'm a people person, so the work itself is fun. I'd do it for nothing if I could pay the bills. We went to Cincinnati, Tampa, Kansas City, Phoenix and Richmond.
I loved the travel, and I was surprised to find myself a minor celebrity. I was part of the show, and the public thought it was all show-biz. We had a ball.
The guests are members of the public who have probably never been on television before. This is their "fifteen minutes of fame," and they want to look their best. That's where I come in.
I'm constantly amazed by the poor choices many people make for their attire, not to mention hair styles. My job is to make them look as good as possible.
Once they're selected for taping, they are sent to me for a quick make over. We always have to apply makeup to cut the glare and add a little color. Maybe trim eyebrows and get their hair in place.
But the most frequent problem is nipples. Many of the women wear garments that reveal nipple points through their blouses. Nowadays, bras aren't what they used to be, and cold air conditioning in the venue often reveals those very noticeable points under their blouses.
We were super careful about the problem. As a male, I would whisper to a female colleague to give the message to our guests for them to conceal their nips. But one busy day there just wasn't time to deal with it any other way than for me to just point to a lady's massive breasts and say, "Mam, your nipples will show."
She blushed and then reached inside her blouse and fiddled with herself. When she finished, they were still obvious. In fact, what I said to her and her touching herself probably just make the matter worse.
She was a mature woman, and her daughter was with her. The younger woman went to get tissues for her mother, and those did the trick. Stuffed between her nipples and bra cup, the problem was solved.
The experience gave me a nasty hardon as I watched this woman and her daughter struggle with her plump bosoms. I determined to enjoy my job more than ever and be prepared the next time.
Two weeks later we were again in the middle of a busy filming melee. In came a woman who was probably in her 50s with large cantilevered breasts with very visible nipple points under her white blouse.
I enjoyed the sight while I did her makeup and hair. Then I gave her the news about her tits. "Mam," I said as I drew the makeshift curtain to give us privacy, "let me fix your nipples."
I just said it matter-of-factly, as if I said it twenty times a day. She looked down at herself and said, "Oh, what's wrong?"
"Your nipples will show on camera, so let me fix it." Without hesitation, I opened a special small case and took out two thin foam pads.
I turned to her and said, "Lift your arms up over your head." As she did, her breasts were drawn tight against her bra and blouse.
I looked at her and studied the situation. Actually, I was just enjoying the scene and planning my next move.
With her hands high over her head, I reached out and gently pushed each nipple like I was pushing a button, all the while staring at them as if I were an expert assessing a problem. After all, I was the expert here, and she was about to go on television. So she was compliant and said nothing.
"OK, you can lower your arms."
Again, without comment I took the pads, unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse, and boldly inserted my hand into her bra. I felt her up to my satisfaction, pushing her nipple one way and then the other. She must have thought I was examining to see how best to fix things, but I was just getting my jollies.
Then I placed a pad over her breast and nested it against her bra cup. One side, then the other. I buttoned her back up, stepped back, stared at her, and said, "There, I think that's gonna work."
She looked down at her chest and said, "Thank you."
When she thanked me for playing with her tits, I felt a warm surge of cum drip down my pant leg.
I pulled back the curtain, and she happily joined her family to film their segment. I marveled that I got away with such flagrant feeling up of a woman.
Having succeeded once, I wondered if I should push my luck and try it again. Silly question!
I decided that if I treated this "problem" with authority, like I knew what I was doing and didn't try to hide it, then maybe no one would complain.
The next show brought in a series of woman with this same issue to fix. I played my little game over and over with them. In a few cases, one of our female staffers watched me do it. She just assumed that I knew what I was doing and that I was in charge. She never batted an eye.
Even those ladies who didn't have visible nipple points would get the treatment. I'd just say, "Caution is important when you're on camera. Let me make this one adjustment for you." And then I'd feel 'em up.
My favorite times are when husbands are present.
The first time I did it with a husband watching, it was an older couple. She was probably in her late 40s, trim and in good shape, cute with a short pageboy haircut and a twinkle in her eye. He was dumpy and looked a good bit older than her. I went through the usual preliminaries of her makeup and hair, then I pulled the curtain and said to both of them, "Your wife's nipples will show on camera, but we can fix that."
Up went her arms. I touched her nipples. Unbuttoned her top. Played with her bosoms. Covered them with pads. Done.
She seemed visibly buzzed by the experience, as if no one had touched her nipples for a long time. Her husband just sat there and watched me, then shook my hand as they left to go on camera – my hand that had just moments before been playing with his wife's tits.
I had such a good time and such a leaky boner with her that I followed them to the stage area. They met their appraiser and got their marks for the cameras. During the filming, I watched from off camera. She occasionally glanced around and could see me standing alongside the director and sound man.
At one point, I nodded, pointed to my own nipples and nodded to her and gave her a thumbs-up sign to indicate that her boobs were A-OK. She practically lost it when I did that. She was about to respond to something the appraiser asked her, but when she saw me do that she goofed up and had to start over.
When the director said, "Cut!" she let out a big laugh but when asked if she was all right, she just waved and chuckled and looked over at me and said, "Oh yes, I've never felt so good."
Her response encouraged me to try a next step.
After her filming, she and he husband walked around and thanked the staff who had helped them. When she came to me, she had a smirk on her face. So I said, "All set. That was good. Time to take out the pads?"
She smiled and nodded. I drew the curtain and quickly reached back into her bra and removed the pads and took the opportunity to pretend to place her boobs back the way I had found them.
When I finished, she said to me, "We drove over to the city for the show and are staying overnight. Are you all staying here, too?"
"Yes mam, we are," I answered, "in fact, I was just thinking about what to do tonight."
"Oh," she said.
"Yes, we're on a busy schedule, but tonight I have time to relax a bit."
"Well,..." she started to talk but didn't finish her thought.
I helped her, "Say, how would you like to get together with me, you and your husband, and I could bring my kit and give you a makeover?"
"Oh, wow, I'd love it!" she said.
"Great," I told her, "I've got a dinner meeting with the crew, plus we have to pack the trucks." "I'll be free by nine o'clock." "Why don't I come to your hotel room?"
Without checking with her husband, she said, "That would be terrific. I'm excited."
"Me, too!" I said. "This will be fun." "Tell you what, why don't you take a relaxing bubble bath before I get there, maybe call for a pedicure, make yourself feel good?"
She scribbled down her hotel and room number and cell phone number, and they walked away while my wheels started turning.
I finished up my duties and it was almost time to meet my new friend, Joyce, and her lumpy hubby, Dave.
At nine o'clock I was at their door. Joyce let me in, her hair still wet from her bath and shower.
"Hi, nice to see you again." I set down my bag. "I hope you don't mind but I haven't had time to shower and change." "May I take a quick shower here?" "I brought a change of clothes."
