Teen College Girls Playing With Dildos #1 | The man on the phone had been pleasant enough, giving me directions and telling me which bus to take to the interview.
Still, I couldn’t calm the butterflies in my stomach. The bus rolled to a stop and for just a moment I considered getting off and just going home. But I turned my thoughts to the tuition bill sitting on my desk, and that was enough to keep me in my seat.
I was desperate for a job. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the relaxation techniques my drama professor had taught us. But it wasn’t working. I couldn’t believe I was going to an interview for a position as an Exotic Performer.
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Well, at least it sounded better than Pole Dancer. I glanced out the window and realized that I was almost at my stop. I reached out and pressed the signal strip to alert the driver.
The Stop Requested light went on, and I knew that now there was no turning back. As we pulled up to the bus shelter I took a deep breath, then made my way to the rear exit.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight after the tinted windows of the bus. I rummaged around in my bag for the directions. I was in a very wealthy residential neighborhood, one that only had a bus stop so that the servants could get to work.
I started walking, checking the street numbers as I went. The houses were far apart, all behind ornate iron gates. Finally, I found the right house.
How pretentious, I thought. Naming the streets after London Underground stops. I pressed the buzzer on the gate. “Yes?” a voice asked through the intercom. “I’m here to speak to Mr Lewis” I said into the box.
“Your name, please?”. “Sally”. “One moment”. I stood there for a few moments, feeling uncomfortably like the hired help. I heard a metallic click, and the gates slowly drew open.
I followed the driveway up to the front door of the house, a large stone and stucco Edwardian manse. Before I could reach for the ridiculous lion’s head to knock, the door swung open, and an attractive man who appeared to be in his twenties ushered me in.
“Mr Lewis?” I asked, extending my hand. The man smiled and said, “No, I’m not Mr Lewis. My name is George. Follow me, please” He turned on his heel, and I had no choice but to follow.
He led me past the entry hall, with its polished marble floors, behind the grand staircase and down a long glass corridor. I glanced out the windows as we went and marveled at the large swimming pool and lush landscaping.
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At the end of the corridor was a door marked “Private”. George punched in a code on a keypad next to the door, and I heard a click followed by a soft buzzing.
He pushed open the door, then stood back so I could pass him. “Wait here, please” he said, as the door automatically locked behind him. I just stood there, battling the butterflies.
Finally, George returned and said “Mr Lewis will see you now”. He led me to a door, and opened it for me. I heard it shut behind me. There was a huge mahogany desk, and behind it a muscular, bald man wearing wire-framed glasses.
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- He was oddly attractive, and I guessed him to be in his mid-to-late fifties. He stood and extended his hand. “Sally” he said. “Pleased to meet you”. “Mr Lewis” I replied, shaking his hand.
- “Please, sit” he said, gesturing to a leather chair. “Did you bring a resume?”. “Yes” I replied, handing it to him before settling into the soft chair. Mr Lewis sat and silently studied my credentials, such as they were.
- “So you’re a theater major at the University?”. “Yes”. “And I see you have a background in dance”. “Yes, I’ve been studying since I was three”. “Forgive me, Sally. But that’s a very prestigious private school you attended in New Orleans”.
“You’ve heard of it?”. “Yes, of course. I also know that they are not prone to giving out scholarships, which would lead me to believe you come from a family of significant means”.
I studied the carved feet of the desk, embarrassed to be found out. “Yes, I do”. “Well, may I ask why you’re here, then? Surely your trust covers your expenses?”.
“Mr Lewis” I sighed. “I really don’t see what that has to do with my working here”. “My dear, this is a very discreet, very exclusive club. I need to understand the motives of anyone who wants to perform here. I can’t risk hiring the wrong people. So what are you doing here?”.
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I took a deep breath and studied Mr Lewis. There was a softness in his eyes, which made me feel safe. I decided to confide in him. “The truth is, my trust was set up in two parts. I get the first half when I turn twenty-five and the second half when I turn thirty-five. It’s that way for everyone in my family, so we don’t squander our resources while we are still impulsive teenagers”.
“That’s sensible”. “Yes, terribly. Well, my family had decided for me that I would attend Georgetown as an undergraduate, and Vanderbilt for law school”. “But that’s not what you wanted?”.
“No. I wanted to come out to California to study drama”. “Not exactly respectable for a girl of your background, I take it?”. “No” I smiled. “Not exactly. My parents said if I came to California, I’d have to pay my own way. So that’s what I’m trying to do”.
“And why this job?”. “I got fired from my waitress job”. “Why?”. “It’s not a pretty story. Let’s just say I have a low tolerance for those who don’t know the difference between Riesling and Merlot”.
Mr Mario. “Well, you won’t find that problem here”. I smiled. For the first time I felt relaxed. “Do you understand what kind of club this is?” Mr Lewis asked.
“I believe so. It’s an upscale strip club, right?”. “Not exactly”. “Well, what exactly?”. “This is a private sex club”. “Excuse me?”. “a private sex club” Mr Lewis repeated.
“Extremely wealthy gentlemen come here to drink and scocialize and be entertained by lovely ladies performing public sex acts, either solo or with a partner”. “I see” I said as I struggled to maintain my composure.
“What kind of sex acts?”. “Whatever they desire”. “I see” I repeated. “One of our young ladies is partial to pleasuring herself with vegetables”. “Vegetables?”. “Yes, she’s quite talented with an ear of corn. Another likes to be hogtied and spanked by her partner. Anything goes, really. Do you think you’d be able to be that kind of performer?”.