My name is Amber, and I am a freshman at a large college in North Atlantic City. I came to this school with ambition and dreams. I was by no means a virgin to sex, but I was not prepared for life in a city where people everywhere are looking for an advantage.
Or to take advantage. Yes, the big city is full of people with agendas. Agendas often hurt or destroy others. I thought I was growing up, but having graduated from high school and moved to the city to pursue an education is not necessarily growing up.
Three months into my first semester, I was to learn that valuable lesson. It all started with the need for a part-time gig. A girl in my dorm told me about a small place where they were always seeking the next model. Nude models. She assured me that it was legit. That there were other women on the set at all times, and they had each other's backs.
I dismissed the thought at first. I'd rather bus tables or be a retail clerk at a local grocery store or bodega. That did not go well. Many of the bodega owners were pigs. Men old enough to be my father or grandfather who simply wanted to have a beautiful young woman to fulfill their twisted fantasies.
Disgusting pigs, who often smelled bad and had the breath of a water buffalo. I took my first job at one a few blocks off campus, and he tried to corner me the very first night. He pushed me against the counter and tried to kiss me and grope my vagina.
I grabbed my purse and ran out crying. I never went back. Eventually, I talked to that girl in my dorm about photo modeling. A girl would make $100 per hour for topless modeling and $200 per hour for total nudity. She could make $300 an hour for a total nude frontal show of all photos. Simulated sex paid $400 per hour, and real sexual acts paid $500 per hour.
Like I said, I'm by no means a sexual virgin, but there is no way I am sucking a man's cock or getting boned by a guy in pictures. I mean, what if my brothers or father got a hold of any of these pictures?
I really need to earn some cash. My parents are giving all they can, and things are so expensive here in the city. I decided to try topless modeling. After all, it's only a pair of boobs. As long as the photos do not clearly show my face, I guess it will be cool.
I went with Tammy, the girl who told me about this gig. We went downtown. It was an old warehouse on the fringes of a well-established neighborhood. Some of the buildings around it were being rehabbed. The workers checked us out as we walked to the address.
Tammy and I entered the building, walking down a hallway to a green door that badly needed a coat of fresh paint. The whole place could use paint. It wasn't dirty or seedy-looking; I was just old but clean. Free of trash and no smells.
We entered through the door into a nicely painted and furnished lobby. I was actually surprised. I expected more of the same look as the hallway. Tammy talked to the receptionist, who picked up the phone and murmured into it.
She said, "Please take a seat. Ted will be out in a few minutes." About five minutes later, a man emerged and said, "Please, follow me." We followed him through a hallway to an office. The office looked like so many others in any nice commercial office space. The only exception was that the walls displayed pictures of men and women in various stages of nudity.
The man looked at me and said, "Please sit. My name is Ted." He extended his hand to shake my hand. I took it in my hand, noting that he had a very soft, warm handshake. The type of warmth and touch that make women comfortable. We exchanged some small talk. Then he asked me if Tammy had filled me in on what happened inside these offices.
I nodded and softly replied, "Yes."
He then said, "Well, show me what you have for the camera." I was a bit slow on the take, and Tammy leaned in and whispered in my ear that he wanted to see my boobs. I blushed. I purposely wore baggy clothes to hide my feminine form.
Ted spoke up and said, "I don't have all day, Amber." "Show me your tits or leave." "Time is money." Tammy nudged me, and I reached down, grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt. I pulled it over my head in one swift moment before I pissed myself and ran out the door.
I was so scared. I sat there in his office with my sweatshirt in my lap, showing off my French-cut bra that encased my boobs. Ted then said, "Lose the bra, sweetheart." I nervously reached behind my back and deftly unsnapped my bra, allowing it to relax as I held the cups over my 34-inch B-sized breasts.
Ted signaled for me to lower my bra. I pulled it away, exposing my bare breasts to a total stranger. I had goosebumps. My nipples were stone-hard. "Nice tits," said Ted.
I blushed, and he told me to stand. I stood up. He told me to turn sideways toward him, which I did. He then said, "I think you might work out." Then he said, "Lose the rest of those clothes."
I looked at him, then Tammy, and said, "I only want to do topless modeling."
Ted looked at me and said, "Whatever kid, strip or get out. You're wasting my time." Then he said, "Come back when you grow up."
I had real tears welling up in my eyes as I sharply yelled, "I'm not a kid, I'm a woman," as I grabbed the waistband of my sweatpants and pushed them down to my ankles.
Ted was enjoying the view. Then he said, "That's better, but lose the panties."
