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Being on your own young is a challenge. Anyone can attest to that. It was no different for Sabha Beliveau, even at the age of nineteen and a year out of home. It was true that being the daughter of a French diplomat had it’s perks. By the age of seven Sabha had seen most of the world with her father, enjoyed some of the best education that money could buy, and was fluent in six different languages by the time she entered High-school. Sabha’s mother, a Persian ex-patriot from Iran, took up teaching Farsi in French schools, but soon grew weary of her new homeland. So, when the opportunity for Sabha’s father to relocate to the United States as a consultant for Boeing, Sabha, Her mother, and Her brother all leaped at the chance.
It was in Seattle, Washington that Sabha completed her high-school education. Her worldly view allowed her to surpass most of her peers in scholarly pursuits as she excelled in subjects of arithmetic, geography, history, and Spanish (one of the six languages she was fluent in). Sabha was quickly accepted into the University of Washington upon graduation.
However, none of the lessons she learned as a child could ever prepare her for the harsh reality of life. Sabha’s father was determined to not allow his children to end up like the “American slobs” that he so looked down on. When her brother, Jean-Pierre graduated a year before her, he was out on his own. Sabha always assumed (correctly) that she would receive the same treatment.
Within a week of her high-school graduation Sabha was moved into her new apartment. Six blocks south of the Space Needle, on the corner of Fourth Avenue and Bell Street. It was a quaint little (emphasis on little) studio apartment and had all the amenities that a young woman like Sabha could need. The best part, Sabha felt, was that it was only two blocks away from Jean-Pierre.
Growing up the two were nearly inseparable. Jean-Pierre was only a year older then Sabha. Almost to the day. Like Sabha, Jean-Pierre was fluent in six languages. He couldn’t speak them as well as his sister, however his language skills were passable. Jean-Pierre also excelled in his scholarly pursuits. However, the pursuit of knowledge did not interest him. “Wasted potential” his father would say on more then one occasion. When it came time for Jean-Pierre to move out of home, he did not let the door hit his ass on the way out, so to speak.
Sabha heaved a heavy sigh and picked up her cellphone.
“I need to call Jean-Pierre.” She muttered to herself as her fingers swiped through to his phone number. The phone rang. It rang only three times before the other end picked up and Jean-Pierre’s voice transmitted through the speaker.
“Hey, it’s me.” Sabha said after Jean-Pierre’s typical greeting of ‘yo’.
“I know, phone’s come with caller ID.” Jean-Pierre teased.
“Shut up.” Sabha said playfully. “I need some help…” She began. Sabha sighed again.
“How much…?” Jean-Pierre’s voice trailed off.
“No, not money, you idiot. I need you to help me find a job.”
“I know just the guy!” Jean-Pierre claimed. Sabha could hear Jean-Pierre handle the phone and what sounded like shuffling papers. “Here it is.” he rattled off a number that Sabha quickly wrote down. “His name’s Mike. He’s a talent scout.”
“A talent scout?” Sabha had heard of talent scout’s before but never thought she was pretty enough to become a model. Her focus had always been with school and she never really noticed boys until late in her high-school years.
“Yes, silly a talent scout. I’ve been doing some work for him. It’s easy stuff, just sit and smile really.” Jean-Pierre explained.
“A-are you sure?” Sabha stammered, the thought of being in front of a camera nearly terrified her.
“Yes! I’m sure. You’ll do fine!.” Jean-Pierre said. Sabha wasn’t convinced. “Just give him a call, Sabha, give it a shot. If you don’t like it don’t do it. If you do, it’s some money your way.” Sabha still wasn’t convinced but promised to think about it anyway. Sabha unceremoniously said her farewells to Jean-Pierre and hung up.
Sabha was a long time sitting in her desk chair flipping the number between her fingers. Her thoughts drifting from one fantasy of being a model to another.
“What the hell!” Sabha said, making the clear and final decision to give the number a call. She swiped through the numbers, checking and double checking the number before pressing send.
“Hello?” An American male answered.
“Yes, Mike please.” Sabha said.
“Yes, Hello…” Sabha nervously stammered. She could almost hear Mike roll his eyes on the other end. “I… um… Got your number from my brother, Jean-Pierre… he said you may have some work for me.”
“Yeah… I think I can come up with something. Ever been in front of a camera before?”
“No. Not professionally.” Sabha admitted.
“That’s okay, why don’t you stop by this Friday and we’ll see what we can do… bring bursa escort a change of clothes, something sexy.”
Sabha’s heart punched against her chest. She began to frantically wonder if she had anything sexy enough for a job. After taking down the address Sabha ended the call and immediately began to panic. Yet, through the anxiety the young woman could feel a tinge of excitement. The allure of the unknown attracted her and soon anxiety turned to full blown glee. She ran to her closet and began rifling through her clothes.
The week came and went in a flash. It was Friday and Sabha examined her slender body in the full length mirror that she hung on the sliding doors of her closet. She chose a tight black dress, matching black pumps and accented the entire ensemble with a single pearl that hung from a silver chain around her neck. Sabha chose a set of earrings that Jean-Pierre gifted her for graduation. The silver thin strands formed a set of triangles that glittered in the light. To avoid hideous panty lines, Sabha chose a discreet lace g-string that she got from a girlfriend for her last birthday. Sabha remembered with a smile what her friend said about lace lingerie. That it wasn’t proper for a grown woman not to own at least one lace g-string.
Sabha turned sideways to examine her profile. The tight black dress cut off around her mid thigh, hugging her curves. She couldn’t help but notice how nice her rear looked in the fabric. The plunging neck line hugged her ample breasts, revealing deep cleavage that the pearl rested in. She examined her body further; noting the Mediterranean glow of her skin that she inherited from her mother, the straight black hair that she had up in a loose bun, and her shapely legs, from her father’s side of the family. Sabha had no complaints about her body and in fact agreed that she was a classy type of beautiful, even if she didn’t think it was good enough for modeling. She ran her hands down the fabric of the dress, over her breasts, down her stomach to her thighs. This was her favorite dress for very good reason. It made her feel sexy, it made her feel powerful.
Sabha smiled at herself again. Gathered up her day bag with a change of sweats a t-shirt and sneaker shoes. She tossed her phone in the bag and headed out her front door. Her pumps clacked on the floor as Sabha made her way to the elevator. The bell chimed just as she reached the sliding silver doors. She was still smiling with delight and sex appeal when she stepped into the elevator, a single other occupant already inside.
“Good afternoon.” He said, as his eyes took in Sabha’s shapely form.
“Afternoon.” Sabha chimed through her smile. She recognized the man as her upstairs neighbor. Only ever running into him once, as she was moving in. That time she was dressed in what might as well have been a burlap sack. That time the man didn’t pay much attention to her other then pleasantries. This time the man couldn’t take his eyes off Sabha. Sabha could see the man in the reflection of the doors in front of her and noticed that he was busying himself with staring at her shapely rear that her tight black dress hugged.
The encounter got Sabha’s heart racing. It thundered in her chest and she flushed red as she watched the reflection of the man watch her. Sabha tucked her lip under her top row of teeth. She’d never been perceived as a sex object before, this feeling was new to her. Sabha relished in it.
The elevator took years to finally reach the ground floor. With another chime, the doors slid open and Sabha flashed a winning smile over her shoulder to the man.
“Have a good day.” Sabha sang.
“Uh..hm… You too.” The man stuttered.
On the curbside Sabha hailed a taxi. The Yellow Cab pulled up with haste and Sabha got in. Sliding into the back seat with grace, she rattled off the address and closed her hands over her lap. The driver, a recent immigrant from Bangladesh smiled with a nod. His white mustache pointing out sideways from his face as he looked at Sabha through the rear-view mirror.
Again, Sabha could feel eyes prying on her. She glanced up to see the driver staring at her cleavage every time they pulled up to a red light, stop sign, or traffic was moving slow enough. With Seattle traffic on a Friday afternoon, it was nearly always slow enough. Sabha smiled at the man, but did nothing to cover up. She flushed a deep red at the attention she was so readily receiving.
Nearly forty-five minutes later the Yellow Cab pulled up to the address. Sabha looked out from the passenger side rear window.
“Is that it?” She stammered with a little disappointment. Before Sabha lay a warehouse like building in the industrial district of Seattle’s South Downtown. The front facade of the building was filthy, with two cloudy windows flanking a green door. A door that had more layers of paint then Sabha had years. She paid the driver and left the Taxi.
Standing on the sidewalk Sabha inspected the building more. It appeared bursa escort bayan to be an old airplane hangar that was relocated and re-purposed.
“Maybe it’s different inside.” She hoped cheerfully. Sabha approached the door, smoothed out her dress and entered the building. What Sabha thought was a single building with an open floor was actually partitioned inside. A long wall separated what could be considered the foyer from the rest of the building. A large desk was centered on the wall with a single door to the left. Painted onto the wall with flourished red letters where the words ‘Vice and Sin Productions”.
Just as Sabha began to worry and have second thoughts the door opened and stepped through a tall man.
“Sabha?” The man questioned. The man stood an even six feet, wide shoulders, barrel chest and a matching stomach to go with it. He wore a gaudy red Hawaiian shirt, tan cargo shorts and open toed sandals with no socks. The man sported a goatee, short hair that was spiked and frosted. Sabha wondered if the man dressed himself, for the top two buttons on the shirt were unbuttoned revealing a patch of curly chest hair.
“Yes.” Sabha extended her hand to shake the mans.
“Mike.” Mike said with a smile as he took Sabha’s hand and shook it, his grip tight around Sabha’s hand. “Jean-Pierre’s told me a lot about you! Come on let me show you the studio.” With that Mike lead Sabha through the single door and any second thoughts Sabha had of leaving where quickly dashed as she crossed over the threshold of no return.
“It’s rather a large studio.” Sabha commented after the tour. She was seated on a two cushion couch opposite of Mike and his desk. Mike, who was seated behind his desk was fidgeting with a camera. The little office they were in was a rectangle, ten by thirteen feet. Or at least thirteen from the door to the large black curtain that hung from ceiling to floor behind the desk. Sabha wondered what was behind the curtain, or if it was just a wall. Sabha snapped back into reality when Mike spoke.
“Yeah, it’s great.” Mike replied as he finally set the camera up and aimed it at Sabha. “Perfect.” He smiled and leaned back in the second hand desk chair. “So, Sabha, this part is an interview that covers our asses. I’m going to ask you a few questions and we’ll move on from there. Consider it a try-out.” Mike smiled again, making Sabha a bit uneasy.
“Okay.” Sabha hugged her arms together. For the first time since she stepped out of her door she didn’t like the attention she was getting. She figured that it was the presence of the camera.
“Alright then, let’s get started, First, what’s your name and age”
“Sabha Beliveau, age nineteen.”
“Good, Looks like you have some nice assets… What are your measurements”
Sabha blushed red. She’d never talked openly about her body and this blunt question that Mike asked made her shift uncomfortably.
“Uhm… 34D…” Sabha cast her gaze down with a sheepish smile.
“Very nice.” Mike said. “Stand up for me Sabha, let’s get a better look.” He winked and leaned forward towards his desk.
Sabha did as she was told, stood up with her hands gripping in front of her.
“Turn around for me Sabha.” Mike requested while making a twirling motion with his hand. Sabha did so, turning completely around to face Mike again. Mike smirked and twirled his hand once more. “Face the couch.”
Sabha shifted uneasily and turned to face the couch. “Wow.” Was the response that she heard Mike utter. Sabha glanced over her shoulder spotting the camera with it’s little red light and Mike, now standing up behind his desk.
“You’ve got a great ass Sabha.” Mike said coming around from behind the desk. “Lift that dress up let’s see it bare!” Sabha blushed again and turned to face Mike.
“I’m not very comfortable with that!” She stammered wringing her hands. Mike smirked that stupid smirk, obviously used to first-timers.
“Hey, that’s okay, We need to see though, so we can schedule for future shoots, it helps us help you!” Mike stated convincingly. A moment passed as Sabha considered what he said. She thought about all the bills she had piling up, rent, and food. Sabha heaved a sigh, turned to face away from him and lifted the dress hem higher up her thighs. Slowly the fabric slipped up over her legs and capped at the top of her rear. She glanced back again to a grinning Mike. Her nearly naked rear pert and round for Mike and that mechanical eye to see. The thin piece of fabric to her lace g-string doing nothing to hide her tanned flesh.
Sabha was flush with embarrassment. It only got worse when Mike instructed her to spread her legs and bend forward at the waist. She hesitated, thought about the money again and leaned forward. She took two steps to widen her stance.
Sabha swallowed hard, had she known that this was going to happen she would have never called. Yet, here she was, the only thing driving her forward was the prospect of money.
“Very, escort bursa very nice Sabha!” Mike chimed. Sabha could feel him closer now, his presence overpowering her vulnerable position. Sabha chewed on her lower lip and prayed that this portion of the interview would end soon.
“Can you bounce for me Sabha, bounce your ass?” Mike’s voice sounded lusty as he requested. Sabha thought of the pop-and lock dancing she does in the clubs. Envisioned herself there and bounced her rear. The cheeks wobbled with the force of her bouncing and clapped with a muted thud. She bounced them again and again until Mike said for her to stop.
“Alright Sabha, go ahead and stand up again.” Mike said. She did so relieved. Sabha turned around to face Mike again. “So, When was the last time you had sex?” Sabha inhaled sharply at the question. What did that have to do with anything?
“Uhm… Six or seven months ago…” Sabha said confused. Mike stepped closer to her, only a stride away.
“Good, good, what do you like in sex?” Mike grinned, his hands adjusting his shirt.
“I…” She stammered. She again couldn’t figure out the point of these questions. “I… I like giving blow jobs.” Sabha admitted embarrassed. “…and doing it from behind.” Her voice got small.
“Oh good!” Mike exclaimed. Good? Sabha thought, why was that good? Sabha looked up from the floor with a sheepish smile. She tried hard to hide her embarrassment. “Well then, let’s get a few pictures of you why don’t we?” Mike started.
Sabha sighed with relief.
“Thank God.” She murmured. Mike ignored it and took Sabha by the wrist and lead her to the desk. He adjusted the recording camera and produced a second single shot camera.
“Alright Sabha, let’s see your sexiest pose.” Mike grinned his slimy grin raised the camera to his face and snapped a series as Sabha struggled to tap into her inner sexuality.
“Good.” Mike encouraged. “Great!” He continued. “Off the desk and onto the floor.” He commanded, snapping more pictures. Sabha did so, standing at first. “Kneel” He requested. Sabha got to her knees. “Perfect.” Mike snapped more and more pictures. Sabha thought they would have to number in the hundreds by now. Her kneeling form looking up at the mechanical eye of the camera as Mike loomed over her. She was beginning to enjoy showing off her body. Sabha pushed her arms together to define her cleavage better as Mike shot straight down onto her.
Sabha laid back for the camera on the plush carpet of the floor. Mike focused on her legs and thighs in this position, slowly moving the camera up her body. Sabha flicked her hair teasingly, running her foot up her own leg and then down again. Sabha was careful to not open her legs.
“Great, just great Sabha! You’re a natural!” Mike complimented. He lowered the camera and smiled down at the prostrated woman. “Alright, let’s heat this up. Roll over and hike up your dress.” Sabha, initially refused until Mike reminded her about the money. Sabha was hesitant, rolled to her knees and revealed her rear to the camera. The click-whir -click of the camera made her wince as if being struck.
Suddenly, and Sabha never could place a finger on it, something welled up inside of her. Maybe it was the prospect of being in front of a camera, or maybe it was the new experience. Her inhibitions released, she arched her back and pushed her ass higher towards the camera.
“Yes!” Mike exclaimed with delight. “More of that!” Sabha, willingly now showed off her ass. Hiking her dress even higher, revealing the small patch of fabric that hugged her pubis, her tapered narrow waist and even the underside of her braless tits. Sabha exhaled with excitement as she rolled onto her rear and lifted the dress off her body, revealing her naked size thirty-four D breasts.
Mike paused as Sabha was looking up from the floor. An innocent tone to her expression. Mike raised the camera to his face and snapped six more pictures before lowering the camera again.
“Wow, Sabha, you have a great body!” He chimed. “Would you like to make double your money?” Sabha had an idea where this was going. She glanced Mike up from the floor to the top of his head. On any other day she would’ve never considered sleeping with Mike. He wasn’t her type and something about the man made Sabha’s skin crawl. However, she needed the money, and if she was going to be paid double for letting this man grunt on her, then she could bare the few minutes that it would take.
“Sure…” Sabha finally stammered after a moment of thought. Mike grinned and put the single-shot camera away. He lifted the recording camera and aimed it at her. Sabha, again had an idea where this was going and lifted herself to her knees. She figured that maybe if she sucked him off quickly, it would be good enough. She would spit his cum out into the trash can in the corner of the room, collect the money and never do something like this again. Something was off though, Mike wasn’t pushing himself on her and was indicating that he wanted her to come around to the large curtain. The black curtain he was tugging aside revealed a crudely constructed plywood wall. One that had a five inch diameter hole carved into it with white paint circling it.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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