All participants are over the age of 18.

Ben was broke. So broke he used all of his money to get to this interview. Getting home was going to be a long walk and a hope that he could ask his new boss for a forward of his first pay. New boss, his mind scoffed at the idea and his stupidity. This job was an offer given to him by Mark. Mark was the worst kind of acquaintance to get a job offer from. It wasn't that Mark was a bad person or that he was stupid or naive. No Mark was the guy he mutually masturbated to porn with.

Ben ruefully shook his head as he arrived at the dilapidated industrial estate. The bus lurched to the left and came to a stop just before the burnt-out bus station. From the address that Mark gave him, Ben estimated a twenty-minute walk. The walk gave him time to go over the conversation in his head. Maybe even talk himself out of this stupidity.

"Hey, you're on here a lot more at the moment." Mark had said, his camera showing a flabby man from a hairy belly button over greying pubic hair down to just below the top of his thighs. Mark exposed his large circumcised cock which was oozing precum and being periodically stroked by a tattooed hand with three gaudy rings.

At the time Ben idly wondered if the rings on Mark's hand added any sensation to the masturbation. Now he wondered why he jerked off with weird people online. Ben had a wide range of sexual experiences some of his earliest was in post high school days living in student accommodation and mutual masturbating with his roommate. They had tried some things but never really progressed as their attention was more focused on the women on the screen.

Ben had met Mark in an online site after answering a post regarding showing exposing themselves masturbating for porn, otherwise a request for a fellow gooner. Gooning was the art of spending long periods masturbating to porn. Being broke is bad, being broke, horny and girlfriendless was worse. Ben enjoyed the porn that Mark shared and the taboo nature of exposing himself to a total stranger online. After Mark's question about Ben's increased online presence, more questions inevitably followed.

"You doing this with others?" Ben mulled that over now as he walked along broken concrete footpaths, shattered by the weight of heavy machinery parked carelessly in the past. He had been doing it lots. He was single and in his parent's house rent-free. Both of his parents worked jobs which took them all over the country. So he had the run of the house. Ben spent most of his time now nude, and either playing video games or masturbating online for or with strangers.

Checking the address for the millionth time he located the street that he had to travel down, looking down it he saw overgrown dilapidated buildings, entire industrial blocks covered in some weird vine and a not a working car in sight. Ben once again cursed Mark. Mark to his credit and like many of his other online partners they complimented Ben on his sleek lithe body, hairless except for some tidy, manscaped pubic hair. Most of all and especially Mark, they talked about his dick.

His dick was nothing spectacular, to Ben anyway. It was straight, well proportioned and circumcised. Its length was a little over average, its girth Ben felt a little under. It had a pale shaft where you could easily identify knotty veins, thick and thin and a large slightly dark red almost purple head. To Ben it was his cock to others it was some wonderful example of masculine penis sculpting. Once again Ben shook his head and wandered down the abandoned road. What had he got himself into?

Ben pondered if it was his age or naivety that had attracted many of the older men. Then in some dark and now embarrassed recess of his mind, he did not mind the attention from the older men. It was that part that had gotten him into trouble, that taboo kernel that liked the older male guidance and the lust-fueled admiration they had for his thin muscular frame and "perfect" cock. Mark probed for answers and Ben let him know, he was broke and needed a job, worse still he had no skills and had flunked out of higher education.

They talked, as men do, looking at each other's erect penises and watching porn. The conversation drifted from what they would do to the actress, to the actor and how they would change the scene. When suddenly Mark revealed his face. An aged one of a man in his early fifties, too much plastic surgery evident by the unnatural aging he presented. This was breaking the unwritten rules and Ben almost shut the chat down.

"Ok, you have seen me, so you know me better. I may. If you are still there, have a proposition for you." Mark's sudden change in action and tone had riveted Ben to the spot unsure of what to do next. Did he shut down the chat with one of his more prolific porn gooners? Ben spoke quietly and asked him what he wanted, knowing that if this was a proposition for sex, that he would shut down his biggest gooner. He was curious about penises but not about becoming a whore.

After a convo and another four-hour masturbation session, Ben agreed. Mark had friends in the local city he lived in that did photo-shoots to sell online. Most were tame softcore pornography where aspiring actresses and even aspiring the odd pornstar would pose. This all seemed ludicrous and a lie when Mark first said it. But Mark persisted and said they would offer cold hard cash and that it wasn't a lie. A number was offered by Mark. It was the number of a manager who ran the place. Calling it he was shuffled through a female secretary and eventually spoke to a gruff guy, the owner, who asked about a health check and had he done anything like this before?

The phone conversation was short, an interview time and date established. Money discussed and a medical test to be conducted. Ben had waited for them to ask him for money, but not demand was made, Ben even checked and was rebuffed. "Why the hell would you pay me?" So after a nervous sleep and pooling the last of his funds for transport costs Ben made his way to the Honeytime Studios in the middle of what Ben named "lock your doors or die" industrial estate. Passing by vacant lots, the chainlink rusted and collapsing in on itself, burnt-out cars overrun by vines and grass, Ben wondered if he was getting out of here alive.

Finally, the small well kept building labelled in large stencilled paint "building four" emerged from the industrial wasteland. Grey and dotted with skylights and air conditioning vents, the building looked like an oasis of maintenance in the land of dilapidation. It was the first heartening thing he had seen all day. Walking onto the lot he noted that the lawn was mowed and the concrete painted to look like cobblestone. Fake plants sat in expensive pots and marked a path towards a set of tinted glass double doors. Upon the solid tinted glass window, Honeytime studios was stencilled, beneath the lettering an anthropomorphic bee looked suggestively over her shoulder, her large cartoon human-bee bottom underlining the studio title.

Ben sighed and took a deep breath. Everything looked ok despite the neighbourhood. Gingerly he shifted his satchel on his shoulder and with wavering confidence walked forward to push open the door. Cold, freezing air hit him, the type of cold air that only an over the top air conditioner could produce. The entrance was marked by an embedded and ridged rubber-aluminium mat for guests to clean their shoes on, beyond that was a deep white pile carpet. The walls were garishly decorated to look like a honeycomb only with purple and yellow hexes. A large reception desk occupied the wall space between two sets of large double doors. The desk was large and hid the receptionist that Ben could hear answering a call.

"Honeytime studios, how can I direct your call," her voice was tinny, nasally and emphasised a tone of youth.

Ben steadied himself, the hidden receptionist sounded younger than him, she had a job, what was his problem? He steadied himself, as the years went on it never got easier. Kids who just left school doing better than him.

"Thanks for your enquiry but we are not after models at the moment."

Ben almost turned and walked then. It was a feeling of total utter embarrassment. Mark and some random manager had set him up for a big laugh, assholes. He seethed with anger now. Turning, his bag chose this exact time to break open, dumping its contents on the floor.

"Fuck," Ben half-shouted venting his frustration, kneeling and scooping his spilt belongings. Stuffing the books and towel into his old backpack he didn't notice the barefoot receptionist walk around the desk.

"Hi," the young woman was suddenly very close, making Ben jump in fright. Ben immediately regretted the action as the young receptionist herself jumped. "Whoa sorry!"

Ben looked at the young woman and gawked. She was short a little below average but her slight build and thin frame made her look smaller. Ben gawked at her clothing. It was a purple mini bikini that barely covered the nipples of her bee-sting but perky breasts. Gazing down further it Ben noted that it was expertly designed to cover only her labia, and in doing so left her manicured blonde pubic hair completely exposed.

"Ah, hi," Ben said. The nervous squeak in his voice eliciting a giggle from the near-nude receptionist.

"Hi, welcome to Honeytime studios," she twirled on the spot and walked back to the desk, the thin material of the purple mini bikini carving up between pale petite ass cheeks.

Ben continued stammering as he made his way to the desk after collecting his belongings. Looking over the high bench Ben observed the petite teen sit on a purple yoga ball. Something about that petite round ass squishing into the yoga ball made Ben feel especially happy. A happy thought that he filed away to look up later.

"Ben Simmonds?" The explicit goddess said looking at the clipboard.

"Yes," Ben said in shock, his mouth agape. It wasn't a slimy trick, it was for real.

"I am Trixie," she said, bouncing on the ball in excitement. Not waiting for a reply she put the clipboard down and picked up the phone, punched a few buttons on the intercom and held the handset to her ear. " He is here," she eyed him with her sultry green eyes flicking her perfect blonde ponytail to the side she grinned listening to the speaker on the other end of the call. "Yeah, but boy is he skittish." Putting the phone down with a clunk she jumped up bouncing off the ball, her near-nudity and the sound of the rubber ball made Ben rather hard in a bizarre excitement. "Hey, follow me cuite."

With a smile forming on his face he followed her in through one of the large doors and down a garish floor lit hallway. Walking behind her Ben stared at the petite teen's ass enjoying the slight tremor it had with each of her steps. He was hard now, harder than he had been in ages.

"In here, '' Trixie said, turning and pointing towards the new single door labelled manager. Ben took one more look soaking in the barely legal teen receptionist, her blonde muff framing the tight cameltoe forming mini bikini.

"Thanks," he mumbled awkwardly.

Trixie gave a trill little laugh and walked past him close enough for him to smell her intoxicating musk. "See ya soon big guy."

Ben pushed the door open. The normally silent hiss of hinges was audible in the cold silent room. It was a square office, framed porn movie posters covered the walls, a large wooden desk with a high backed leather chair dominated the room, the man sitting at the desk pointed at one of two smaller leather chairs in front of the large wooden desk. Ben obliged sitting uncomfortably and plonking his bag beside him on the floor.

The man across the table was the manager he spoke to. Tom, Ben recalled silently in his head. The voice evoked an image in Ben's head when he spoke to him on the phone, it was an image that Ben could confidently say matched reality. Tom looked like he may never have left the seventies. The moustache and hairstyle were styled classically, although they were white with age. The large cigar off in the corner of the mouth and the sunglasses that Ben was almost sure were an off purple shade.

"Glad you could make it," his voice was oily and the smile genuine. Ben nodded in response. "Safe trip? Find parking ok?"

"I caught the bus," Ben said, jumping into the rapid-fire questions.

"Bus?" Tom said, then repeated incredulously. "Why didn't you say anything!"

"Sorry," Ben said, grabbing the bag, fearful that this was the wrong step and the sudden end to his bizarre pornographic adventure.

Tom waved a hand and smiled. "I'll send a car next time, and you can get a car back tonight." Tom paused and regarded the young man. "This ain't the safest of areas of an evening.

"Car," Ben said a little in shock. Then pausing, gathering a little confidence. "You'll drive me home and pick me up?" Ben paused again, "in future?"

"Well yes I don't like the idea that one of my employees could get mugged or hurt, and in future," Tom trailed off with a chuckle. "Future depends on you."

"On me," Ben said with a wary tone.

"Not many can handle this, they get a bit freaked out. Well I mean they have a freakout and never come back, worse yet they don't want anything published and try and get lawyers involved." Tom stubbed his cigar out in the large emerald green ashtray which dominated the top left of the desk in sheer size.

"Lawyers," Ben countered. "I don't think I'll need lawyers." Truth be told Ben didn't as both mum and dad were high paid lawyers, mum contract and dad criminal defence.

"Good," Tom said, with a genuine grin. The older man reclined in his leather chair squeaked in protest. Tom lazily reached for a button under the massive desk a distinct click elicited a distant bell sound. "Wonderful we are all happy then." Tom stood and walked over to a low side table, a crystal decanter surrounded by large crystal shot glasses. Tom poured a hefty amount of brown aged liquid into two glasses and walked carefully over to Ben. "Take a slug son."

Ben coughed the bourbon was nice, very nice, and strong. Tom motioned for him to take another as he went behind the desk to hit the button again.

"Where is that girl?" Tom said, rapidly pressing the button whilst taking a slug from his glass. Tom looked at Ben, then at the glass. "Good," Tom said with a grin. "You are going to need that," he indicated towards the empty glass Ben now had.

Before Ben could even offer thought to the question building in his head the door to the office was forcefully opened.

"Really Tom, I heard you the first time," the woman was naked, large breasted, wide hips and displaying a rather large rear. Her olive skin lightened towards large pink nipples, dark hair cascaded down her back. The only clothing she sported at all was thigh high dark fishnet stockings. In one hand she had a manilla folder the other arm had a large white fluffy towel draped over it.

"Sorry Anne," Tom said.

"Sorry Anne, my ass, who was it that told you our visitor was here?" She stopped in front of the desk, her attention focused on Tom. "I went and got this ready for you." Anne thrust the papers out to Tom who carefully took them like a man disarming a bomb. He opened the manila folder and became engrossed at the contents. Ben stared at Tom, fearful of looking at the naked goddess at his side. It grew quiet.

"Hey kid," Anne calmly spoke.

"Yes," Ben said, looking at Tom desperately hoping for some direction on what to do and finding no answer. Ben looked at the table.

"I don't walk around here nude for the comfort of it," Anne said, turning and facing Tom who looked up a smile form on his face. "Oh sweetie, there is no need to be embarrassed." Anne turned to face Ben. Anne cupped her breasts and leant forwards. "Nice aren't they?"

Ben coughed words robbed from him as he looked at the large perfect orbs cupped and offered to him like a delicious meal.

Anne giggled letting her heavenly hefty breasts drop. "Sweetie, you see me or Trixie nude or deciding to dress down oogle all you want." Anne handed Ben the towel she had over one arm further exposing her nudity, which Ben wide-eyed took in. "There that's the spirit sweetie you look at Mumma Anne's naughty bits." Anne dropped her tits, nipples bouncing around Ben was hypnotised by the display. "Tom," Ann clicked her fingers to get the old man's attention.

"Oh," Tom said looking up. "He's good, ready to roll."

"Ready to roll," Anne said, with a smile, regarding Ben. "Ok kid," Anne looked at Ben with a grin, then suddenly turned around and slightly bent over arching her back, a maneuver that put her ample, apple-shaped ass on display. "Follow the nice round bouncing ass to your next Destination."
https://boredofstudies.org/members/korufabu.1611343685/about
https://www.blognone.com/user/temoyese
https://blogtruyen.vn/1813/
https://blog.bmtmicro.com/the-basics-of-push-and-pull-marketing/
https://www.bma.org.uk/connecting-doctors/b/work/posts/uncertain-times-for-eu-doctors#pi4053=2
https://binaryoptionrobotinfo.com/forums/users/tuhoyako/
https://www.cakeresume.com/me/sucolibu
https://www.cakecentral.com/tutorial/47327/football-macarons
https://www.buzzsprout.com/839752/
https://feedback.bistudio.com/p/xoralidi/

Edit
Pub: Jan 07 2021 10:05 UTC
Views: 110