Straight 'A' Grad Ch. 01

Seriously, how do women live with these things? For the third morning in a row, I'd been awakened by simply rolling over onto my stomach. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't in pain. I just wasn't used to the sensations which could come so quickly and easily as my nipples grazed across my silk sheets. My hard nipples were acting as my new alarm clock.

As you might remember, I spent my high school and college years fairly flat-chested. Well, that's an understatement. More accurately, an A-cup bra was roomy. And while I'd still had a satisfying sex life over the years, and even managed to compete with big-busted women for the attention of men, the stakes were higher now that I was out of college and looking for work.

I had graduated with my communications degree expecting to walk right into a job. After all, I had a near-perfect academic record, fantastic letters of recommendation, and had always been blessed with the ability to interview well. But how was I to know that I'd be looking for my first professional job in the midst of a recession? Interview skills hadn't been necessary so far - I wasn't even getting the calls in the first place.

Add to that my increasing jealousy of other women's assets. I'd split up with my college boyfriend, Jason, just after graduation. It was a mutual decision, as it was clear he'd be moving out of state for a job and our lives were headed in different directions. But the fact that my old nemesis Danielle had thrown herself at him, tits first, the moment he was single, just served as a reminder that he never had been satisfied with that one aspect of my anatomy.

So, I took the plunge. I did my research, visited the best plastic surgeons in the area, and finally settled on one I felt I could trust to do a good job. And in one afternoon, I went from completely flat to completely stunning - hardly an A-cup to an ample C-cup in a matter of hours. My new tits were perfect. And I don't even feel like I'm bragging. After all, they're not a God-given asset, they're a tactical investment in my future.

The change to my daily life was amazing from the start. Everywhere I went, guys checked me out. Don't get me wrong, I've always been cute and could always get attention from the hottest guys - but it usually took some conversation first. Yes, I'm pretty: long blonde hair, beautiful green eyes, fit and tan, but without a nice rack, I had to rely on my personality to reel them in. Now, just one look at my perfect figure, and random strangers would follow me anywhere.

The only problem was, the surgery had taken the last of my savings, and I was still without a job, so I was a little desperate. After swallowing my pride and taking one last futile look at the university job boards and newspaper classifieds, I made an appointment at a temp agency that some of my college buddies had recommended to me.

It was the owner who met with me, a certain Mr. Sanders, although he promptly instructed me to call him Jake, an example of his very comfortable demeanor. His office was surprisingly well-appointed compared to the sparse reception area, I thought to myself as I settled into one of the comfortable leather chairs across from his desk. He was a confident, good-looking 40-something man wearing a tailored suit that I couldn't help but think seemed a little expensive for someone running a temp agency.

He interrupted my wandering mind with his first question: "So, Amber, tell me a bit about yourself." His eyes were moving over my body as he spoke, settling, as most eyes had been in the past few weeks, on my chest.

"Well, Jake, it's been almost six months since I graduated from State U with my degree in communications, and in spite of a wonderful record there, great recommendations, and a couple of internships in the field, I haven't had a single interview. There don't seem to be very many jobs to apply for, and the ones I do find, they tell me up front that I won't have much chance - they can hire an experienced professional willing to work for entry-level wages because of the bad economy."

"Well put, Amber. Unfortunately that's the story I'm hearing from a lot of people lately. Fortunately, there is always temp work out there. What I can't guarantee is that you'll find anything in the career path you were intending."

"At this point, I'll settle for anything. I just need some money in the bank."

"Well, sounds like you've resigned yourself to the right attitude for the time being. Now, let's see. Here's what I'd recommend, given your assets."

Since his eyes were still plastered on my chest, I wasn't sure if he meant my brains or my breasts. He soon clarified that he meant a little of both.

"With your communications background and your great looks, I could hook you up with some temp work as a table presenter down at the convention hall. How does that sound?"

"What exactly would I be doing, and what does it pay?"

"Good questions. The pay varies by company, and keep in mind we take 10%, but typically you would take home a few hundred dollars. You would meet with a company rep for a few hours so that he could explain the pitch, and then the following day you'd stand at the company's table in the expo hall, looking beautiful and answering questions."

Gee, only slightly objectifying. But hey, it would let me pay my rent for another month, a pressing need since that rent check was due next week.

"There are a couple of big conventions coming in over the next few weeks, and with a pretty young woman like yourself, I'm confident I could get you placed almost every day. Just call in to the office tomorrow, and they'll give you the details."

"Thanks, Jake, I appreciate your time."

The next few weeks were certainly interesting. I wore everything from a silver bodysuit to a red bikini with heels, was groped by men and women alike, and went home exhausted at the end of each day, my throat hoarse after talking for hours, struggling to be heard over the hundreds of other voices in the expo hall.

Don't get me wrong, it was great to be working and putting some money in the bank. And I continued to enjoy the new type of attention my new rack was bringing me. It was a new experience for me to be the center of attention, rather than having to fight for it from the sidelines. And with the outfits some of the companies had me wear, I was most definitely the center of attention. Why a red bikini and heels was appropriate to selling roofing material, I'll never know - but apparently it works.

But when the first round of assignments was over, it was clear to me I wouldn't be able to keep it up. The money wasn't good enough, and it wasn't exactly fulfilling from an intellectual standpoint. A few weeks might be entertaining, but as a permanent gig, it would get old fast. And then there was my seeming inability to remember my new chest when I would reach across it to point out facts and figures on the various companies' displays. Some women have the benefit of years of practice to realize they shouldn't reach their right arm across their body to point at something on their left, but I made the mistake multiple times.

I shared all of this - well, except that last bit - with Jake when I visited his office after the last of the visiting company reps had left town and the final convention came to an end.

"So," I said, winding up the tale of my past few weeks for Jake as he sat across the desk from me, "I'm hoping you can give me some advice on getting back into the job market on my career path, or maybe find another temp option that could bring in a little more money with a little less grunt work?"

"Well, I don't know if I can resolve the grunt work issue, but I do have another suggestion for a temp job if you're interested. It would definitely be more money."

I was perplexed by his comment about the grunt work, but asked him to please go on.

"Well, as you already know, a lot of the work I get is for businessmen passing through town briefly for a conference or important meeting, right?"

"Yes?"

"So, I do my best to cater to all of their needs, not just the type of work you've done so far."

"What, so secretarial support? Running errands for them, things like that?"

"Not exactly. More along the lines of an escort."

"Oh, like attending dinner meetings, nights out to the symphony, that kind of thing?"

"Sure, things like that. Most of these high-powered businessmen don't like to show up alone to an evening function when they're hoping to make the big deal."

"So, I don't understand, why would that pay better than the work I was already doing, sounds like much less of a challenge?"

"Well, it depends. There are different rates for different types of services."

"Such as?" I still wasn't following his logic.

"Well," he paused, once again checking out my chest, "for example, there's a great deal to be made if you commit to the entire night."

"The entire night? How long are these dinner meetings? Oh, wait..."

My voice trailed off and I blushed hotly as I realized how naive I'd been thus far in the conversation.

"So you mean THAT kind of escort..."

"That's right, Amber. You're exactly the type of girl who could make a lot of money, and have a little fun along the way. Smart, beautiful, sexy as hell."

I blushed once again, more intensely as my eyes met his gaze. I was intrigued, but also embarrassed, and as many people do when they're embarrassed, decided to take it out on the person who put me in that state.

"Just what kind of place are you running here, anyway? I thought this was a legitimate temp agency?"

"Hey, Amber, calm down. If you're uncomfortable, I won't pursue it further, and you're welcome to walk right out of here. But if you'll let me, I think I can set you up with something you'll really enjoy doing for a while. This isn't a permanent thing, obviously, but you could put quite a bit of money away in just a year or so, and come back to your career later, when the economy's better."

Perhaps sensing that I wasn't about to get out of my chair, he continued, more confidently.

"And for the record, my business is completely legit. I've found work for lots of people over the years, in perfectly normal careers. But catering to the high rollers is how I make the bulk of my money, and when I find someone like you, Amber, well, I just can't pass up the opportunity."

"Alright, I'm listening."

"OK. First off, some of these guys don't even want sex. They really do just want some pretty arm candy for an evening out, and have the resources to pay a lot for that service."

"Sounds easy enough. So it's just a matter of being charming, intelligent and beautiful, I can do that!"

Jake smiled. "I know you can, Amber!"

He paused, looking deep into my eyes. "Then, of course, there are the majority of my clients, who do want more. Let me tell you a few things that might reassure you, because I can tell from talking to you that taking money for sex isn't something you've considered before."

"Uh, no, definitely not...."

"Alright. I hold the card of confidentiality with these guys, most of whom have wives or girlfriends, or at least a professional reputation to uphold. So, they promise to treat my girls with respect. I tell them what you are and aren't willing to do, and they honor that. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you're free to walk out and you'll get paid regardless."

"Um, OK, sounds like I could live with that."

"You take these jobs one at a time, I pay you for each one as they happen, and you're free to walk away anytime."

"And how much money could I make?" I was more and more intrigued, but still couldn't imagine agreeing to this unless the money were really amazing.

Jake stood up, walked around his desk, picking up a pad of paper on his way, and scribbled something down before sitting on the edge of his desk directly in front of me. Wordlessly, he handed me the notepad. Just as silently, I read what he had written, reading and re-reading it to make sure I'd seen the number correctly.

"Per month?"

"Per week."

"Yikes! And I can walk away anytime?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, then, sign me up."

"Good, Amber. You're making the right decision, I promise you. Now, you still need to audition."

I was still adding up numbers in my head, planning my future investments, when the last of what he'd said finally broke through my daydream.

"Huh?"

"Well, Amber, I need to find out a few things before I can start setting up jobs for you."

"Such as?"

"How well you perform under pressure, for example? How effectively you can seduce a perfect stranger? What you are and aren't willing to do? Sexy as you are, I do have to make sure you know what you're doing."

As I'd already begun making plans of how to spend my newfound wealth, there was no way I was going to let this job slip through my fingers. And given my competitive nature, I took his questions as a challenge. I decided to answer with actions, rather than words.

I stood up, tossed the notepad with the obscene dollar amount written on it to the floor, and keep my eyes fixed on his as I slowly began to undress. Jake smiled, clearly pleased at my initiative, and watched as I exposed more and more of my beautiful skin to him. First to go was my fitted cashmere sweater, one button at a time undone until it slipped from my shoulders to the floor below, leaving me in just my bra.

In an awkward moment, I reached out of habit for the bottom of my bra, as if to pull it over my head as I usually would do with the A-cup garments I used to wear. Blushing, swearing at myself in my head, I quickly recouped, taking a step towards Jake and turning my back to him so that he could undo the bra clasp himself. He eagerly did so, firmly grasping my perfect breasts in his hands as the bra fell away from my body.

He kneaded my hard nipples between his fingers until I could barely remain standing from the excruciating pleasure. I took the opportunity to turn around, fall to my knees, and quickly free his already-bulging cock from his slacks and boxers. Before he could speak a word, I had taken his entire length into my mouth and deep into my throat, and was looking up at him with my gorgeous green eyes.

"Nice work, Amber. Perhaps a few more minutes of this, and then you can show me what other skills you possess?"

I nodded and tried to respond verbally, resulting only in a muffled sound, at which he chuckled. I continued stroking up and down on him, my hands finding his balls and tickling them in rhythm. Despite the occasional gag as he pressed deeper into my throat, I think I impressed him with my abilities, as he responded by forcing himself ever more firmly and forcefully into me.

Just as I could barely take any more, barely breathe from around his huge cock, he pulled out of my mouth, lifted me to my feet, and took my hand, pulling me to his desk, where he motioned for me to put my hands against the leather desk-top and spread my legs for him. He positioned himself behind me, pushed my skirt up to my waist, and pulled my panties aside, once again taking my tits into his big, strong hands as his hard cock teased my pussy lips.

I pushed back against him, eager for him to enter me, but he held off, continuing to rub against me as my juices flowed over his cock, lubricating it even more than my mouth had already done. Finally, unable to take the suspense any longer, I looked back over my shoulder at him with an eager gaze, and he immediately plunged into me.

I couldn't help but cry out, and then kept up a steady moaning as he pounded furiously in and out of my dripping-wet pussy. In between gasps for air, I managed to encourage him with dirty comments, asking him to please fuck my tight little pussy harder, faster, harder, faster...

He slowed his motions a bit, and leaned in towards me, whispering in my ear, "I don't suppose you're up for a little back-door action?"

"Well, I'm not the most experienced in that area, but I'm not a virgin, either!" I couldn't help but remember my first anal experience, with my boyfriend Jason - something I never would have done except for the need to compete with my nemesis Danielle and her huge tits.

"May I?"

"Be my guest. Fill my tight little asshole with your giant cock!"

Perhaps knowing from experience that the best way to do these things was to jump right into them, he pulled out of my pussy and forced himself into my ass in one smooth motion. I screamed with a combination of pain and pleasure - mostly pain at first, frankly, but quickly building into a tantalizing pleasure.

I knew it wouldn't take long for me to cum, and he pushed me over the edge when he reached around and began fondling my clit with his fingers. I began riding out the waves of pleasure as I felt his orgasm approach as well. Just as I was coming down from my high, he began to jerk, moaning as he pulled out of me and shot a huge load of cum all over my bare back.

"Alright, Amber, I think you'll do just fine," he said as I stood up, turned to face him, and we both began to clean up and make ourselves somewhat presentable. "Let me make a few calls, and I have a feeling you'll be booked for the weekend."

"Sounds great, Jake. Thanks so much for the opportunity," I said to him with a wink, doing my best to approximate a professional tone as the juices were still dripping from my pussy.

Couldn't have done it without the tits, I thought to myself as I left his office and pondered the days to come.

TO BE CONTINUED...