Straight Female / 68
It Took Many Years For Me To Appreciate Just How Much My Boss Liked It
My boss, the owner of the company, liked seeing me naked or in my underwear. I liked showing him, it felt good in a very curious way, to have him look at me like that. It was always model posing, nothing like outright porn. From time to time he would call me over and he would gently touch me with two fingers. I never had sex with him, maybe he couldn't have sex, and he treated me well. When he died he left me a 'tittle something', a house, a car and a small trust fund to pay me the equivalent of my salary for ten years. His wife was very nice to me and she said she was grateful and that she knew that I was his favorite 'girl' at work.
This was when I was in my twenties and I wasn't as smart as I needed to be. I lived in the house I was left, and drove the car I was left and spent every penny of the trust distribution I got. By the time I was 35 I had spent all the trust money, the car was old and needed to be replaced and the house needed money to be spent on it. And I was broke, I wasn't good with money and didn't earn enough either.
I sold the house and with the money I moved to live close to a friend of mine in California. The cost of living there was so high that the best I could do was to live with my friend and pay her rent for my room. She was curious about those days with my boss of when I was younger and she suggested that I could start a business for old men. Posing for them, she was sure that at 35 I had what they wanted to see and as long as sex wasn't involved, what harm could it do. I recruited a couple of 'girls', twenty something, bought them the right kind of underwear and started advertising my business as a ' home modeling' thing.
For the next fifteen years I made very good money. I didn't model anymore, but I had more than enough 'girls' who were more than happy to model and the tips were always good. From time to time an old man would try to beat off, but generally they liked to 'look'. A naked girl two feet in front of them was enough. I learned to pick girls who were not models, looked like the girl next door, soft round breasts that hung from their chest, round bottoms. No gym types, no dancers. Home girls only need apply.
It dawned on me several years into this that I had begun to appreciate the girls myself. I liked how they looked, naked or in panties, as I examined them for my clients. It was also a thing that I learned, many of these girls liked how I appreciated them, there is a moment when a girl releases her bra, and stands in front of you to show her real self to you, proud of her breasts, proud of her thighs and very proud that they could show off their very essence of womanhood, land let me enjoy their slit between their legs. Like my old boss, from time to time, I reached out with two fingers to touch. I knew then just how much he enjoyed it, and how much I grew to enjoy seeing these girls too.
It was a good business, but one has to plan for retirement and I now live in Arizona with my friend.
This was when I was in my twenties and I wasn't as smart as I needed to be. I lived in the house I was left, and drove the car I was left and spent every penny of the trust distribution I got. By the time I was 35 I had spent all the trust money, the car was old and needed to be replaced and the house needed money to be spent on it. And I was broke, I wasn't good with money and didn't earn enough either.
I sold the house and with the money I moved to live close to a friend of mine in California. The cost of living there was so high that the best I could do was to live with my friend and pay her rent for my room. She was curious about those days with my boss of when I was younger and she suggested that I could start a business for old men. Posing for them, she was sure that at 35 I had what they wanted to see and as long as sex wasn't involved, what harm could it do. I recruited a couple of 'girls', twenty something, bought them the right kind of underwear and started advertising my business as a ' home modeling' thing.
For the next fifteen years I made very good money. I didn't model anymore, but I had more than enough 'girls' who were more than happy to model and the tips were always good. From time to time an old man would try to beat off, but generally they liked to 'look'. A naked girl two feet in front of them was enough. I learned to pick girls who were not models, looked like the girl next door, soft round breasts that hung from their chest, round bottoms. No gym types, no dancers. Home girls only need apply.
It dawned on me several years into this that I had begun to appreciate the girls myself. I liked how they looked, naked or in panties, as I examined them for my clients. It was also a thing that I learned, many of these girls liked how I appreciated them, there is a moment when a girl releases her bra, and stands in front of you to show her real self to you, proud of her breasts, proud of her thighs and very proud that they could show off their very essence of womanhood, land let me enjoy their slit between their legs. Like my old boss, from time to time, I reached out with two fingers to touch. I knew then just how much he enjoyed it, and how much I grew to enjoy seeing these girls too.
It was a good business, but one has to plan for retirement and I now live in Arizona with my friend.
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