"There's no way around it, Dear." my husband whispered. His head was in his hands, looking down at the pile of bills. "We're going to lose everything!"
	I sat there. I was angry with him. He's made great money for years, but a string of bad luck, and the failing economy had left my dear Kyle without a way to provide for us. It wasn't really his fault, but I wanted to be angry at someone, and he was closest. My waitress job just wasn't going to be enough.
	"We'll figure something out." I consoled him even though my heart wasn't in it. I had wanted to start having a family now, and quit my job. But until Kyle got back on his feet, career-wise, those plans had to wait.
	I saw a tear drop from his eye onto the delinquency notice from our mortgage company. My heart melted a little for the broken man before me. But, all too soon, I had to go get ready for work.
	I put on my uniform and kissed Kyle's cheek as I headed out the door. The restaurant that I worked in was a nicer one, but not so upscale that the tips were overly impressive. At least we served alcohol, otherwise I'd make a whole lot less. 
	It was a slow night, as Tuesdays usually were. I'd kind off pissed of my manager, which is why I was working the bad shift. But, it gave us girls a chance to talk. 
	At one point, I was talking to my friend, Gina, a mid thirties single mom. She was one of my closest friends at work. I found myself spilling my guts out to her about my plight. She listened like a good friend would. She was starting to tell me something, but then a customer came in and it was show time.
	Later on, she came up to me, and gave me a little hug. "You'll be okay, Sara." It was so nice. Before she rushed off again she slipped a piece of paper into my hand. "Call this number, okay? It's a guy that helps me make ends meet sometimes."
	"Is he some kind of loan shark?" I asked, a little leery. 
	"Nah, nothing like that. He'll pay you good money. Hell, with a body like yours, you'll get even more." And then she rushed off to some customers in the corner.
	I didn't see Gina again that night, at least for long enough to talk, but I was dying to ask her more about this mysterious phone number.
	It was late when I finally got off work. I'd had to close that night and Gina was long gone by the time I was done. So, I headed home.
	Kyle was already asleep when I got home. He almost always was when I had to close, except for the few occasions when he's waited up for sex.
	I climbed into bed next to my snoring husband and just lay there, awake, thinking about the phone number in my uniform pocket. I wasn't stupid. Whatever it was, it was either illegal or immoral. But we were in dire straights here. I resolved to at least call the number and find out what it was the next morning.
	I finally fell to sleep, and when I awoke, Kyle was still snoring in bed next to me, even though it was already late morning. I climbed out of bed and started my morning routine of yoga and jogging on the treadmill. Then I made some coffee and oatmeal for a late breakfast. That's when Kyle finally rolled out of bed. It was my day off, so I thought I'd help Kyle with his job search. But, he had made some plans with his buddies and left me alone by 1pm.
	I was doing laundry while one of those lame soap operas played on the TV. That's when I found the note with the phone number on it. I'd forgotten about it completely. I looked at it for several minutes before finally deciding that I was desperate enough to call.
	"Hello?" a woman answered.
	"Uhh...hi. This is Sara. My friend Gina gave me your number and said you might have some work for me."
	"Gina, eh?" she responded. "Well, if you're a hot little number like she is, I'm sure I can help you out."
	"Can you tell me what, exactly the job opening is?
	"Julian can go over all of that at the interview." she replied. "I have an opening today at three. Will that work?"
	"Well..." I stammered. "I guess three would work."
	She gave me the address and told to bring ID. Then we hung up.
	I texted Kyle and told him I was going to a job interview. He responded with a "good luck" a few minutes later.
	I went to get ready. I took a shower, shaving my legs and underarms. Then I dressed in a smart skirt suit. I'd actually bought the suit for my last job interview a few years ago. I hadn't worn it much since. I had to iron the blouse a little bit, but other than that, it was good as new. I paired it with some dark thigh-high panty-hose and my best red pumps. I kept my strawberry blond hair down, but made sure it was styled well. I added a touch of make-up, and I was out the door.
	I almost expected some sleazy, run-down place when I arrived. But it appeared to be a pretty nice office building. On the main floor there were a couple dental practices and one of those mortgage broker companies. I headed down to the basement level as instructed. I found the right room and entered. There was a woman behind a reception desk, under a big sign that just read "JPP." 
	The woman looked up at me and smiled. "You're either lost, or you're Sara."
	"I'm Sara", I responded with a smile. The woman's manner immediately put me at ease. 
	She handed me a clip-board and application. "Please fill this out while you wait for Julian to be ready."
	I sat on one of the large comfortable couches and started answering the questions. The first several questions were pretty standard. Name, birth date, address, social, etc. But when I flipped the paper over, the back side had a bunch of other questions that got progressively more alarming.
	"Do you hae any STD's?"
	"What is your sexual orientation?"
	"Bust measurment:"
	And they continued like that for the whole page. I was freaking out a little, but I managed to answer most of them.
	I handed the paper over to the receptionist, who took it and immediately started reading the back side of the page. "Nosy bitch!" I thought.
	"Ummm...Sara...you missed a few."
	"Oh, sorry."
	"No problem, I can help you finish it up." she smiled at me again. "Now, how many sexual partners have you had?"
	"Err, just one, I guess." She wrote in my answer for me and then scanned down the the next question I'd left blank. 
	"Do you have pubic hair or are you shaved?"
	"I have some hair." I was blushing furiously but the woman seemed completely un-phased.
	"Color?" 
	"Uhh...reddish, I guess."
	She wrote that down too. Then she took my driver's license and made a photo-copy of it.
	"Perfect! Everything is in order." she hopped up out of the chair. "I'll go check on Julian."
	With the paper in hand she disappeared through the door behind her desk. I few minutes later, she returned, empty-handed.
	"Julian will be without in just a few moments. He's just finishing up his previous interview."
	I sat back down on the sofa and tried to stay relaxed. It was getting harder.
	I few minutes passed before the door opened and a man stepped through. He was mid-thirties, muscular, with tan skin and dark hair. When he spoke, it was with a bit of an accent, but I couldn't place what kind.
	"You must be Sara. I'm Julian."
	He stepped forward and took my hand as I stood to greet him.
	"Please come with me."
	He led me by the hand back through the doorway. The receptionist just smiled at me as we passed. We went down the hallway, passing a few doors, and then he steered me into one of the last ones. The room looked much like any office. There was a desk, and bookshelves. On one wall was a large flat-screen TV. The lighting was brighter than I'd have expected, and there were a few cameras setup on tripods around the room.
	"Please, Sara, have a seat."
	I sat in the chair across from Julian, on the other side of the desk. I was really starting to get nervous now. I glanced around the room and noticed that all of the cameras were now pointed directly at me.
	"Please, ignore the cameras for now. We always record these interviews, for our records. You know...legal stuff and all that." That didn't really relax me, but it did make some sense, I guess. 
	I recognized the paper they'd had me fill out on the desk in front of Julian. I was embarrassed that I had provided so many intimate details, and he now had access to that information.
	"So, Sara, tell me a little about yourself."
	"Well, I'm 25, married, I don't have any kids, and right now I work as a waitress."
	"What brings you here?"
	"My friend, Gina, said that you might have work for me. My husband lost his job and if we don't get some more money coming in, we'll lose everything."
	And here I was giving private, embarrassing information to a stranger. What was wrong with me? The thing was, Julian had that same warming manner that the receptionist did. It was calming me to talk to him. Weird, huh?
	"Oh, no! We can't have that. I'm sure we can help you." Julian assured me with a smile.
	"What kind of job, exactly, am I interviewing for?"
	"Right to the point. I like that." Julian said with a twinkle in his eye. "As Gina may have told you, or you at least guessed from the application, we deal in adult entertainment."
	"Uh...yeah, I guessed that."
	Hearing him say my suspicions out-loud was reassuring and distressing at the same time. I should have just left right then, told him I wasn't interested. But, the truth was, I was a little interested, and I really needed the money. So, I sat there, waiting for him to continue.
	"I see here that you've only ever had sex with one man, who I assume is your husband."
	"Yeah..."
	"Well, this particular job will require you to...interact...with others, men and women. Will you be able to do that?"
	"I...think so..." I was really unsure if I was going to go through with this. "I thought maybe I could just pose for some racy pictures or something."
	"Well, that will be part of it. But the real money is in video. Sex."
	I gulped. I was scared. But I didn't leave. And I guess Julian took that as acceptance, so he continued.
	"Take your shirt off for me, please." He asked with a smile.
	I just sat there at first. It's hard to say what was going through my mind. Thoughts of my husband and our financial difficulties swirled in my mind. Finally, I did it. I slipped off the jacket and then slowly unbuttoned the blouse. I removed it and let it fall to the floor. I sat there, a little bit in shock at what was happening, in my bra and skirt, in front of a total stranger. I was stunned and scared, and a little excited (I'm ashamed to admit). I crossed my arms, partially obscuring the view of my white cotton bra. Then it hit me...the cameras! Oh, god, the cameras!
	"Nice. The bra too, please."
	It was a moment of truth for me. Do I take off my bra, revealing my breasts to a stranger and possibly save our house and cars, or do I run out and never come back?
	I reached up behind my back and un-fastened the straps, and then I allowed my bra to fall forward and off, into my lap, and then the floor.
	My nipple stuck out, hard and achy at being revealed. I blushed, probably from head to toe. I struggled to keep my arms at my sides, allowing Julian to look me over. I prayed that this would be enough and that the interview was over. It wasn't.
	"Excellent. Your tits are spectacular. It says here they are real. No surguries."
	I could only nod. My voice seemed to have abandoned me.
	"Good, good. Mine if I verify that?"
	Again, I nodded. I couldn't believe I gave a strange man permission to handle my bare breasts. He stood and came around the desk to stand in front of me. He took one of my breasts in each hand and slowly fondled them. I gasped at his touch. His skin was warm against my own, and I found his massaging motions pleasurable, against my will. I closed my eyes as he continued fondling me gently. I gasped again when he pinched my nipples, first one side, then the other. Warmness filled my loins, and I could feel wetness building between my thighs.
	Finally, Julian released my bosom and returned to his seat.
	"They are definitely natural. Please continue to undress."
	I started to take off my pumps, but he stopped me.
	"Oh, no, those can stay on. The skirt."
	I stood, a little wobbly and keenly aware of the cameras on my naked breasts. Well, I've come this far, I thought to myself. I unzipped my skirt and let it drop to the floor. My plain white cotton panties were visibly damp. Julian just smiled, and then nodded for me to continue. Taking the direction to mean my panties were to come off next, I hooked my thumbs under the elastic waist band and yanked them down.
	"No! Slowly. And turn around."
	I pulled my panties back up and turned to face away from him. And the cameras. Somehow it was a little comforting. I started again lowering my panties. Much slower this time.
	"Good. Take them all the way to the floor."
	My round buttocks came into view as I lowered my panties. As I took them lower I had to bend at the waist, and when I got them to my ankles I looked between my legs and saw Julian, and his cameras, all focused in on my exposed gash. Oh, god!
	I quickly took my panties the rest of the way off, and stood with my back to my audience. Blushing and scared.
	"Great job. Now turn back around."
	I turned, slowly, wanting so badly to cover up. But I fought it and kept my hands to my sides. I trickle of wetness escaped and rolled down my leg.
	"You, my dear, are absolutely stunning." Julian smiled again, his eyes gliding up and down my exposed body. I stood there, in nothing but my thigh-high hose and red pumps. What was I doing here? I should have been at home. I should have...
	"Come around the desk and take a seat."
	At first, I didn't understand. But he patted the desk in front of him and smiled.
	I walked around the desk and with a little hop, planted my bare bottom on the desk in front of him. I sat with my legs together, my hands clutched the edge of the desk as though my life depended on it. I jumped a little when Julian placed his hands on my knees.
	"Lay back."
	I leaned back until I was laying on the desk, my legs hanging over the edge, but my knees firmly together. At least, they were, until Julian gently started to push my legs apart. And I let him. He spread my legs wider and wider. I felt my labia, my soaked labia, peel apart as he stretched my legs wider than they were used to. The smell of my arousal filled the room. 
	I looked down across my body at Julian. He was smiling as he stared into my open vagina.
	His warm fingers found my wet opening. I gasped loudly. He stretched me open, with his fingers, still staring into my depths.
	"Wonderful! You'll, of course, have to trim this bit of hair a little before work begins, but I want you to leave most of it. It proves beautifully your real hair color. Just tidy it up a bit."
	I nodded that I would.
	"Now, the fun begins." Julian said with a smile.
	
	I was allowed to get down off the table and get dressed. Before I left, Julian handed me a piece of paper. I must have looked confused because he said "It's your first job. Be on time. Don't forget to tidy up."
	I walked out. Now that it was over I couldn't wait to leave. I was shocked at what I'd done. But I was sure that whatever the job was, I would be there.
	"How was it?" the receptionist asked as I walked out.
	"Scary." I told her.
	"My interview was too, but I see you got the job," she nodded at the paper in my hand, "so Julian must have been impressed."
	"Errr...thanks."
	"I'm Kathy, by the way."
	"Sara."
	"I know," she smiled.
	"Well, see ya." and I rushed out.
	One I got into my car I started to try and calm myself. I was scared, ashamed, excited, tired, and horny as hell. My panties were sopping wet.
	I finally got a little bit in control of myself and looked at the paper. It simply said "Thursday 11am."
	I drove home. It was only 4:00, so I started making dinner and returned to the laundry.
	Kyle, the asshole, didn't get home until late. And he was drunk. My anger at him flared and he ended up sleeping on the couch.
	That night I dreamed that Julian made sweet love to me with Kyle watched. I awoke to very damp sheets.


Please tell me how you liked my story so far, or send me suggestions for where to go from here, at clossuss@gmail.com!!!