Fluffer In Training Ch 02

Rachel couldn't concentrate in school the next day. All she could think about was her new job. The money she'd be able to earn would make her life so much easier. She didn't want to have to go home to Nebraska, a failure with her tail tucked between her legs. The possibility of being able to stay in California was too enticing to pass up. She hoped that she'd be good at the job. She was a bit of a natural worrier, and wanted to make sure she did the best she could. Being fired would be worse than never taking the job in the first place. She was thrilled that Mr. Smithers had been so pleased with her oral talents during the interview. And she was also totally enraptured at how much she loved feeling those cocks get hard in her mouth.

Her last class finished at noon and she raced home, anxious to get back to the studio. She hoped she passed the medical exam okay, but she also took comfort in the fact that knowing they were doing that for all employees. She definitely didn't want to catch anything nasty.

She peeled out of her clothes and showered, her hands taking a little too long as they soaped up her heavy breasts. The nipples responded and it felt good. She closed her eyes, sliding her soapy hand down over her midsection and between her legs, picturing Steve and Mr. Smithers' cocks in her mouth, working on them until they filled her belly with hot creamy cum. She remembered the taste, and how exciting it made her when they went off, and she rubbed her stiff clit between her slippery fingers, leaning against the shower wall as she climaxed. She'd rubbed herself to three tingling climaxes after she'd gotten home the day before, but obviously it wasn't enough. Her whole body had seemed to come alive with need as soon as her lips closed around Steve's cock, a feeling of illicit desire overwhelming her. She couldn't wait for her first day of work.

She went to her dresser and looked at her clothes, remembering Mr. Smithers' suggestion of what he wanted her to wear. She chose her best bra. It was made of sleek white satin with delicate lace trim at the top edges of the bra cups. She slipped it on, adjusting her girls until they filled the big curving cups. The heavily-structured bra pushed her big tits together and up, creating a deep dark line of cleavage. The ample amount of soft tit-flesh threatening to spill over the jam-packed cups told her she definitely needed to go up a size. "If only I could resist that craving for chocolate," she said to herself, pulling on a pair of matching white satin panties, the French-cut leg openings fitting high on her broad hips. Surveying her wardrobe for the few things she thought would be appropriate, she selected a powder blue sleeveless turtleneck that she hadn't worn in a while, but she knew the stretchy fabric would emphasize her buxom figure, just like Mr. Smithers suggested. Pulling on the sweater, she felt it stretch over her round tits, the vertical ribs of the fabric flowing in and out sideways as the material molded itself to the lush contours of her voluminous breasts.

"Oh my, this top is getting too small as well," she muttered to herself as she looked at the fabric, stretched tight as a drum over her generous bust. "It's going to have to do. I'll definitely have to do some shopping once I get my first pay check." She shimmied into a pair of faded jeans, wriggling her hips as she pulled them over her wide hips and big curvy bum. She pulled on a pair of short boots with a Cuban heel that were comfortable, and still looked great. A glance in the mirror was enough to let her know a jacket would be needed. With the way her tits were on the verge of bursting through the tightly-stretched material of her sweater, the last thing she needed was to get arrested for public obscenity. She was almost out the door before she remembered to grab some hairbands, remembering what Mr. Smithers had said about his fluffers keeping their hair away from their mouths while they worked. She stuffed a couple into her purse and headed out, anxious to get to the studio.

*

"Hey, little lady," Rachel heard as the bus doors opened and she stepped inside. Looking up, Rachel spotted the smiling face of the bus driver she'd had the day before.

"Hi," she replied with a smile as he nodded to the seat just inside the door across from him. She paid her fare and sat down in the very front seat he'd indicated. As she took her seat, she noticed the way his eyes gravitated to her chest.

"Well, how did the interview go? Did you get the job?" he asked, pulling back into traffic.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking, and for making sure I got there on time yesterday. I know you were driving pretty fast there at the end."

"Ah, forget it. I'm willing to do anything I can to help. I know how tough it is for a young person nowadays to make ends meet." His gaze flicked over as he gave her a smile and a wink, his eyes dropping to her tits for a second before he turned back to the road.

"You're right about that. I really needed the job. I appreciate what you did. I didn't realize how long it would take to get there."

"So are you going to be one of their new starlets?" he asked, glancing over and blatantly looking her up and down.

"Uh, no. I'm not going to be in any of their movies. I'll be working as a production assistant behind the scenes."

The bus driver paused as his eyes flicked over to her, his gaze temporarily resting on her full round tits. "I'm surprised. A pretty girl like you, I would have thought they'd make you a star in no time."

Rachel felt herself blushing, never having considered herself to be all that pretty. She was always conscious of her buxom figure, and figured being slightly plump was a turnoff for most men, especially here in California where skinny women seemed to reign supreme. "That's so nice of you to say that, but I'm really happy to just get the job."

"So what exactly does a production assistant do for a company like Starlite Films?"

Rachel was unsure of how to answer, but decided being fairly honest was the best way to go. She didn't need to be explicit when it came to stating that her main duty would be sucking cock. "You basically help the director out by making sure things are ready for every scene, making sure the actors have everything they need to look and do their best onscreen."

He moved his eyes from the road to look over at her, this time his gaze immediately focusing on her lush pouty lips. He looked at her mouth for what seemed like a long time until, finally, he lifted his eyes to hers and nodded slowly, a wry grin on his face as he pulled the bus over towards the next stop. "Yes, I can see why you got that job. You look like someone who's willing to be helpful when people are having a difficult time rising to the occasion. Do you think it will be a hard job?"

Rachel gasped as she listened to his question, his eyes looking back at her mouth for a second before concentrating on the road. She was saved as two Latino women boarded the bus and sat right next to her, chattering away like magpies. The bus driver simply grinned and turned away, focusing his attention on the road as he pulled back into traffic.

Rachel's stop was just a short distance away and, as she exited, the bus driver looked over and smiled. "Good luck. I hope to see you again." Once more, his gaze lingered a long time on her prominent chest. Rachel found the attention exciting, especially since it came from a grown man. Back in Nebraska, she was used to goofy high school boys staring at her tits, but this...this was something different coming from a grown man in California. She was used to grown men looking at her curvy plump figure, but the only other grown man who had complimented her like that had been her Film and Communications teacher in high school, Mr. Dexter.

Rachel thought back on that final semester, and Mr. Dexter. He'd been her favorite teacher, always giving her a warm comforting smile when she entered his room. Mr. Dexter was an attractive man in his late 40's, with wavy hair with more than just a touch of gray. He was of average height and build, with rugged features and skin that looked permanently tanned and weathered. This was only his second year at the school. He'd come to Nebraska when his wife had contracted leukemia, and when things got worse, she'd wanted to come home to be near her family. The school was thrilled to have someone with his background in screenwriting. Unfortunately for Mrs. Dexter, the change in location didn't halt her illness. She rapidly deteriorated and passed away almost a year ago, but Mr. Dexter had stayed on, liking the tranquil lifestyle that Nebraska had to offer.

Rachel was aware of Mrs. Dexter's demise, and her heart went out to the man who had always smiled kindly to her, even if she hadn't had him as a teacher until this year. The pleasant smile that adorned his face greeted Rachel on her first day of film class and, without hesitation, she took a seat in the front row, just off to the side from Mr. Dexter's own desk. She cherished her time in his film course, listening rapturously as he expounded on the world of film and the possibilities the medium offered in this day and age. His class was the last of the day, and she was surprised when after the first week of classes, he spoke to her as the bell rang.

"Oh Rachel, would you mind staying behind for a few minutes?"

"Uh, sure, Mr. Dexter," she replied and, as a student always thinks in these situations, wondered if she was in trouble for some reason.

Once the last student had filed out, Mr. Dexter went to the classroom door and closed it, pulling down the dark shade over the window in the door, common procedure when they were watching films. Rachel was surprised when she thought she heard the lock on the door being flicked closed.

"Thanks for staying, Rachel," Mr. Dexter said as he ambled back and perched on the front corner of his desk, one foot on the floor with the other dangling in front. He was wearing a soft blue shirt and tan khakis, which Rachel thought looked good on him. He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on his thighs as he spoke to her. "I just wanted to tell you how much I'm enjoying having you in class. I can see how interested you are in the course, and it's a nice change to have students showing a genuine interest, rather than just putting in the time to get the credit."

His kind words instantly put Rachel at ease. "Thanks, Mr. Dexter. I'm loving the class so far, and I can only see it getting better. I actually hope to pursue a career in film—that's been my goal for a couple of years now."

"That's good, although I think you know the opportunities here in Nebraska aren't that great."

"I know," Rachel replied, nodding sadly. "I was hoping to possibly go to college in California once I graduate."

Mr. Dexter nodded, his eyes roaming over Rachel's curvy body. She'd gotten a new outfit on the weekend, and with this being Monday, she'd worn it right away. She'd been looking through one of her teen fashion magazines, and although she'd turned 18, she still loved to look at the styles. Most were for girls not as plump and voluptuous as her, but she perused the magazines from cover to cover just the same. One outfit caught her eye, which was labelled as the 'Hot School Girl Look'. The outfit consisted of a plaid kilt that ended around mid-thigh on the slim young model, with a crisp white shirt accessorised with a slim black neck-tie loosely knotted. White knee socks and shiny black Mary Jane shoes with a bit of heel completed the outfit. The shoes had a higher heel and pointier toe than typical Mary Janes. The model in the picture was giving the camera a smoldering look and knowing smile that made her look both fun and teasingly sexy. Rachel loved the outfit the minute she'd laid eyes on it.

Having checked the balance in her bank account, Rachel had gone to the mall and found all the items necessary for the outfit. Trying on the pleated red and black kilt, she noticed that with her big curvy bum and full thighs, it ended up with the hem of the skirt rising much higher on her legs than she anticipated. She tried on a bigger size, but it didn't fit right around her waist, so she went back to the original one, hoping the shortness of the skirt wouldn't take away from the look she wanted. The brilliant white blouse fit snugly over her sizable breasts, with little pulled gaps between the buttons when she breathed deep. But again, going one size up looked too sloppy, so she stuck with the one that was just a little too small. The shoes felt good when she tried them on in the store with her jeans on, but the slight high heel was even more than she was used to. When she tried the whole outfit on at home with the knee socks and the tie, she saw how perfect the shoes were with everything else, the higher, yet solid heel, giving the outfit the sexy look that had caught her eye in the magazine.

After parading back and forth in front of the mirror and feeling good about how the outfit seemed to work on her plump curvy figure, she'd worn it that first day back at school after the weekend. She'd had a few smiles and appraising looks from the usual goofy boys, a couple she noticed who'd elbowed their friends in the side and nodded in her direction. But now Mr. Dexter was looking at her, looking her up and down, and the appreciative look in his eyes made her feel good, made her feel special.

"Well, California's definitely the place to be," he said. "You know, I've still got some connections there. If things go well for you this term, I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if I was to write you a letter of reference for your college application. And then, if things work out with college, I have some names of people in the business I could put you in touch with."

"Really, you'd do that for me, Mr. Dexter?" Rachel asked, beaming inside. She sat forward, her heart pounding with excitement.

"I'd be happy to," he said, his eyes dropping down to her sumptuous chest, her massive tits straining at the tight white blouse as she smiled from ear to ear. He'd been taken by Rachel since the first time he'd spotted her in the hallways at the school. Her plump curvy body was so different from most of the young girls, and it caught his eye every time he saw her. Those huge tits, big round bum and full thighs never ceased to hit him right in the groin. And that pretty face of hers was absolutely gorgeous. Her jet black hair framed her pretty features attractively, the round face made even more alluring by just about the most beautiful mouth he'd even seen. Her lips were deliciously pouty and plump, just like the rest of her. Her mouth was wide and full, a mouth made for sucking cock, as far as he was concerned. He'd noticed right away how much she resembled the younger version of Monica Lewinsky, who he'd always found attractive, knowing the scandal Ms. Lewinsky had been involved in and envious of the man who'd parted those gorgeous cocksucking lips, apparently again and again.

Whenever he looked at Rachel and that perfect mouth of hers, thoughts of doing the same to her, and staining her dress, just like Ms. Lewinsky, rapidly came to mind. With his wife's illness leaving her bedridden, he'd taken to relieving himself in front of his computer in the spare bedroom. He'd often look at pictures of Ms. Lewinsky and compare her to Rachel, picturing what he'd like to do to either one of them. He'd looked up Rachel's Facebook page, which the young girl had left unblocked. He printed off some pictures of her, and had laminated them for his own personal use. It never took long when he stroked his sizable cock for him to pump out a big load, usually all over Rachel's pretty face, using his fingers afterwards to push the milky cum across the plastic surface towards her full beckoning mouth.

Yes, he'd thought about Rachel a lot, and now she was in his class. He found it difficult each day to stop his eager dick from springing a boner, especially when she'd chosen to plunk her curvy buxom body in the seat right in the front row of his class. If only she'd chosen the one right in front of his desk, that would have been perfect. And today—fuck—today she'd worn a sexy schoolgirl outfit that sent a jolt right to his midsection, just like he'd been tattooed with a cattle prod. He'd had to spend most of the class lecturing while seated at his desk, his cock like an iron bar in his pants as he looked at the girl, her full creamy thighs on display right there in the front row, not to mention those huge plump tits that seemed to be threatening to pop right out of her tight white shirt. Fuck, she looked incredible, and as he set the class some work to do in order to free up his own time, his wicked mind started whirling, coming up with an idea that he was now hopefully putting into effect. Rachel was very sweet, and yet incredibly naïve, which he hoped would allow things to work out perfectly for him, just as they had for that president.

"Rachel, I think you've got a great future ahead of you in the film industry, and I'm sure if you put your mind to it, a pretty girl like you could do anything she wishes."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Dexter," Rachel replied, feeling herself flushing at the thought of a grown man like her teacher calling her 'pretty'. "You...you really think I'm pretty?"

"I think you're very pretty, Rachel." Mr. Dexter paused, and then winked conspiratorially at the young girl. "You know, being your teacher, I shouldn't be saying things like that, but since it's just you and me here, I have to let you know I think you are one of the most beautiful young women I've ever seen." He paused again, this time wagging his finger back and forth in front of his face. "But please, don't tell anyone I said that, I'd probably get in trouble for speaking to a student that way."

"Oh no, Mr. Dexter, I'd never say anything," Rachel burst out. "You're my favourite teacher, and I'd never want you to get into trouble."

"Thanks, Rachel, that's nice to hear. I think it's nice that the two of us can talk like this, don't you?"

"Yes, I think it's very nice." Rachel was beaming inside, enjoying the personal attention the teacher was giving her.

"You know, Rachel, every day when you come to class, it makes my own day better just to see you here. But I have to admit, what you're wearing today is very special. Is that a new outfit?"

"Yes, it is," Rachel replied, her hand automatically going to her throat, her fingers touching the knot of her loosely-tied tie. "I saw pictures of it on a model in a magazine, but I didn't know how it would look on me. Do you think it looks okay?"

"It looks better than okay," Mr. Dexter said, his eyes now roaming freely up and down over her buxom form. "I have to tell you, it looks amazing on you."

"I was kind of worried, because the girl in the magazine was...well...let's just say she was built a lot different than me."

"If she was a model, I assume you mean she was skinny?" Mr. Dexter's eyebrows arched up as he gave Rachel a warm smile, which comforted the young girl.

"Yes. I'm a little more...uh..."

"Curvy?"

"I guess that would be one word for it. I have to admit to having sweet tooth. I don't think I'll ever have the willpower to be able to look like one of those girls in those fashion magazines."

"Don't ever worry about that, Rachel. You look perfect, just the way you are. I don't think you should change a thing." Mr. Dexter gestured with his hand up and down the full length of her plump curvy body.

"Thank you, Mr. Dexter. That's so nice to hear. I was worried that for this outfit, I'd look too..." Rachel reached inside and summoned up the courage to actually say what she was thinking, "that I'd look too fat."

"Oh dear, Rachel, don't ever think of yourself as fat. You have an absolutely incredible body. Yes, you are curvy and voluptuous, but men love that. Trust me, you are gorgeous. And in that outfit, you look absolutely stunning."