Getting a Job – Introduction

Hi all and thanks for taking an interest in my story.

So my husband works in a large engineering company and we recently moved to a small city for his job, which gave him a payrise, but it left me with nothing to do. I worked in a small accounting firm for many years and when we left and started applying in the new city, I realized that all my knowledge about that accounting software we used in the old firm was worthless here where they use a different type of software.

So I never got a job and instead just spent time entertaining guests, making sure that my husband would be seen as sociable.

For example, we would frequently invite his close colleagues over for dinner and I would make sure to make it a perfect evening and serve some good healthy food.

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At these events I would always make sure I looked pretty and would wear a fancy dress that I would not normally wear. I have always been unlucky with wardrobe malfunctions and maybe that explains this episode where I had a little nipple slip over dinner.

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My husband told me later that it had not just been a little nipple slip. In fact I had had my nipples showing like that through the entire dinner. That explained why his colleague had been so nervous.

He was polite with me, but this story was of course too good to hold on to and shortly after the dinner, everyone at my husbands work knew about this.

I didn’t know this at the time, but apparently that episode was the reason why the company invited everyone, including spouses, to a big pool party. Everyone wanted to see what the big fuss was about and this way they could see me in a bikini.

At the party there were about 200 people with a huge pool and everyone was wearing swimsuits and taking occasional swims and drinking alcohol. My husband had got me a very fancy bikini for this party. As soon as I jumped in the first time, the elastic band snapped on my bikini bottom.

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I didn’t think anyone noticed at the time. I just had to sit on the edge and compose myself with the bikini bottom halfway down my thighs. I tried fixing it, but it was no use. I walked inside while holding up the bikini bottom to find a place to change.

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When I was inside, just when I was holding the handrail down the stairs, that’s when someone took a photo. Again, this is not something I knew at the time, but just to make the story simpler for you to understand, this is what happened at that time.

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The photo made me legendary at my husbands work

A few months later, I got bored with life at home and I started intensifying my search for a job. I also asked my husband to ask around at his work if anyone knew about any job that I could take.

Of course, the recent unfortunate events and the photo made people at his work think about certain types of jobs. The first recommendation I got was from a Hooters.

I didn’t mind waitressing and I knew about their reputation of hiring good looking, large breasted women and I might as well take advantage of my … advantages.

“I am here for the interview”

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“Oh yes, come on in, you must be Kris”

I went inside and sat down and we talked a bit about my experience and we touched on the topic of my lack of professional waitressing experience. I mentioned I am a quick learner and I think I have what it takes for this job.

“At Hooters the uniform is important” he said and handed me the recognizable clothes. I went to change and came back.

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“Yes OK, I see, that’s good” he said.

The next phase of the interview made me uncomfortable. He asked me to grab my own boobs and hold them up, to give him a sense of their size.

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Then he asked me to lift my blouse and I was out of there. I just got up and left. I didn’t even say goodbye. I wasn’t going to strip for this jerk for any waitressing job.

As the weeks went by with no new job offers, I some times thought to myself whether I should just have flashed the guy my boobs if that is what it would have taken to get that job. I was OK with my decision not to do it, but some times I wondered whether I had made the right choice.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t hesitate to take the next job I was offered. It was someone at my husbands work again that recommended me as a model. I inquired about the details and they told I was going to be modeling jeans. I was content with that and didn’t want to be known as someone always walking around in a swimsuit.

I arrived at the studio and it was very professional. All the equipment was set up and the jeans were super cool as well. Really.

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They took many photos and of course with much emphasis on my ass. Well, on the jeans. Fair enough.

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“OK, can you unbutton them and slide them down a bit” he then asked.

I froze for a moment.

“So … you don’t want me to take them off, right?”

He laughed. “Ha ha, that’s insane. I am advertising the jeans here, why would I want you to take them off!?”

I laughed as well, embarassed at my mistake and slid them down a bit.

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“OK, time to take some shots without the t-shirt.”

“You … want me to take my t-shirt off …?”

He nodded. “Yes … we are advertising the jeans, not any t-shirt. Don’t worry, we won’t keep your breasts in the shot, it would be unusable for commercial purposes if we did” he explained “you can even keep a hand over them if you want”

That sounded legitimate. I thought about how I lost the Hooters job and I decided it was

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It went fine from there and they thanked me for doing a good job, paid me well and promised to hire me back.

It was a real success. I reminded myself to be a little more open minded and try to do my best instead of always thinking about what I cannot do.

I was searching many jobs at this time and finally I landed one! It was a real job. With colleagues! At a beauty parlor! I could chat with colleagues over lunch. It was even quite well paid. Everything I dreamed of.

It was my very first week of sweeping the floor and learning from the others, when I was finally asked to do a real session with a real client on my own. It was a massage and they even had a uniform for me.

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The client was someone I didn’t know from this city. It was not one of my husbands colleagues, which I was thankful for because that could be awkward.

I knew how to give a massage because I had actually taken training in it about 15 years ago.

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I first massaged him on his back. Then on his legs. Then I asked him to turn around and I continued massaging him on his chest.

“Excuse me” he then mumbled “I actually paid for topless massage”

No one had told me and I had no idea they were going to put a price tag on something like that. Totally inappropriate but I supposed not unheard of. I decided to make sure this client would be content and then I would deal with any expectation alignment with my boss afterwards.

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“Oh, you missed a spot” he said.

“Excuse me”.

“There” he said and pointed down to his towel. “You missed a spot”.

A massage is rather innocent and instead of argue, I decided to massage him where he wanted, which was clearly under the towel.

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I moved my hands closer and closer to his penis and gently massaged his balls and started touching his penis with the back of my hand.

Just when I touched it, he suddenly got up from the bed and started looking for something in his pants. When he took it out I was confused and shocked. It was a badge.

He was a police officer!

“What kind of business are you running here. That’s prostitution!” he said.

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“No no!” I pleaded “I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“Yes” he said “That’s prostitution. You’re under arrest!”. He started getting dressed.

“No, please don’t, it was just a misunderstanding. I can’t! That’s not me. I just thought I … I just need this job.”

“Impossible” he said. “But … you say you need a job. That makes me think”. He pondered for a while. “We actually need someone to work undercover here in the city. Are you a local resident?” he asked as he finished getting dressed.

“Yes?”

“OK. You will be on trial for the first month and any misstep, the deal is off and I have to charge you on prostitution charges!” he said.

“Thank you, thank you!” I just whispered again and again.

“Don’t thank me yet. Undercover work can be difficult”.

To be continued.

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