A Hard Sell free porn video

If as common metaphor would suggest the mind were a clockwork device whose gears turned to set thoughts into motion, then a person stepping into Babcock Motors on this day might hear over the harmonious whirring the sound of one salesman's mind grinding to a halt as its cogs failed to find a proper alignment. "Sir, I'm sorry but $11,395 really is the best price I can offer for the Silverado." "No way and don't you go offering me another of your fancy financing deals." "I'm sorry to hear that sir, can I call you Casey?" "It's Jimmy. Casey's my wife. Have you been seeing my wife?" "Oh no sir, I'd never go out with a married woman, I respect you-" "No, you moron, I mean has she been in here to make a deal?" "No, Jimmy, but she called us and-" "I didn't say you could call me Jimmy." "Yes, sir. She told us you were going to decide. Now if you would like to consider some of our less expensive models-" "I told you already which one I want!" "I remember but that is the best price that-" "I'm not paying that much!" The salesman held a deep breath. "I'll be right back sir. I'm going to get a drink of water." "Sure you are." Standing outside his office he massaged his forehead in vain as another stress-induced headache came upon him. His boss approached from the showroom floor. "What do you need this time?" "He wants that red Silverado in the front lot but I've already priced myself out of a commission." "That's a damn shame. What's the price?" "You'll need to beat $11,395." "Son, you have a lot to learn. Watch me." He charged back into the office and immediately engaged the customer with a handshake. "Good day, sir! First let me apologize for Tim here, the boy means well but he really has no idea how to treat a man of your caliber. Good friends and customers call me Horace. As the owner of this dealership I will personally handle your purchase today and again let me apologize for my associate here for not having the sense to refer you directly to my office. Now I hear you have your eyes on that shiny red pickup truck out there in our showcase lot, is that right?" "Well yeah and-" "I want to see you drive off the lot today in that truck so here's what I'm going to do. Can you go $10,945 for me?" "I'm not sure if-" "Forget I said that. Forget it, here's the deal; $10,745 and you get to keep your trade-in. You came in for one vehicle today and you get to leave with two for the same price. You can't get a better deal than that. Say yes right now and I'll have the paperwork ready in minutes!" Inconsequentially the customer took no time to think. "Okay. Yeah, I'll do it." "You drive a hard bargain but I tell you it isn't about the money for me. No sir, it's about seeing that face. That right there is the face of a man who knows what he wants and knows how to get it and I consider it my honor to be the one to serve you. Now let's go sign some papers so you can tell your wife the good news!" The two men shook hands before going on their way. "Tim, you stay there. We need to talk." His office door was pulled shut. He slammed his head into his desk hoping against reason the sensation would resemble relief. "I know Anne appreciates it but something has to change soon." His boss returned with a cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut. "What a dumbass!" "I'm so sorry about that, I thought I had the sale and-" "Not you, that hayseed out there. Here, take these." He handed the snacks to his employee. "You did alright but you still haven't learned the first rule of sales." "Weren't we giving him a $1500 bonus on his trade-in?" "We were going to lose more than that buying that clunker of his but now look at the deal! You may be a screw-up but together, we're 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' only we're salesmen so you know what that makes you?" Tim rolled his eyes. "The bad salesman?" "Damn right you're the bad salesman! You couldn't sell water to a man dying of thirst!" "If they were dying I'd probably just give them the water." "See what I mean? Look, I like you. You're a good kid. Now say it with me one more time, the first rule of sales is..." "Make. Them. Feel!" they said in unison. "Exactly! You went in there with him and tried to give him a good deal. You had the math, you had the research and reasons but all you did was bore the hick. I came in here, I made him feel the way I wanted him to feel and he left as a happy and satisfied sucker!" "Look, if you're going to fire me-" "I'm not going to fire you. You aren't that worthless yet, kid. Mark my words, I will make a salesman out of you if you let me. You know what? Since it's Friday and you're starting to look like someone left you out in the yard too long I'm going to let you go home right now. Come in fresh on Monday and we'll make some more sales!" "Yes, sir. Thank you." He dragged himself and his stale sugary trophy from his office and let his mind drift to thoughts of weekend plans. ***** He slicked back his hair with gel and combed it flat against his scalp before preparing to wipe down his face with astringent. "Are you almost done with your makeup in there? I'm ready when you are." "I just need a few more minutes." "You've been in there for three hours!" "Good work takes patience. Cool your jets!" Almost a half hour later Tim was left awestruck by Anne's results. "You look amazing! Seriously, you could step onto a movie set right now and be ready for the cameras!" "Do you really mean it or are you just saying that to make me feel good? I need honest feedback here." "I mean it. Are you satisfied with it?" "I guess so. I mean there's always room for improvement but this is definitely among my best work." "There is no way anyone would believe you were younger than seventy!" "You're such a charming young man. I could just pinch your cheeks!" She gave him a hug and ran her hands across his thighs and rear but he hesitated to kiss her. "Don't worry, I used a cyanoacrylate adhesive with- It's superglued to my face. You won't damage it with a kiss. Now come here!" The rubber felt odd against his tongue and lips but there was a compelling novelty to the experience. "Really, you could have kissed me in most of my makeups. I figured you didn't because you didn't find me attractive in them." "Well, the last time I tried to kiss a work of art I had to run from museum security!" She gave him another kiss. "You really know how to flatter an old lady! Now sit down and we'll start on yours." He stepped into her room and settled in front of her mirror and supplies. "I'm still not sure why of all costumes you chose to be an elderly woman tonight. You didn't even go for "Slutty Granny" or "Evil Old Witch". You look like...I don't know, like you're from 1930's Poland?" She picked up a bald cap and began to stretch it out in her hands. "That was the idea. Slutty and scary are overdone. A realistic makeup was just the challenge I needed." She pulled the bald cap over his hair and ears. "Maybe you haven't thought of this before but what are the first three things you notice when you see someone for the first time?" He considered the question for a moment. "Tits, ass and ring finger!" She groaned and picked up a brush and bottle of white liquid. "Think about police reports and suspect descriptions. 'A white woman in her 40s', 'A black male in his 20s'. It's age, race and gender. Even if you only get a glimpse of someone you take at least that much information from them." She peeled up the front edge of the bald cap and painted a generous layer of the liquid over his forehead and the inner lining of the cap. "And this stuff is...?" "It's the exact same stuff I used on my face and dissolves easily with the right solvent. Just hold still for a few minutes." He sat patiently as she went to work sealing his hair away under the rubber cap. "Anyway, where was I earlier? Oh yeah, so makeup artists often find themselves showing off their skills with aging makeups like the one I'm wearing tonight or they might try race-changing or gender-changing makeups. If they really want to show off they'll go for all three at once but I'm not sure I've seen any really good attempts like that. Let me go get your mask." "Do I get to be your old man tonight?" "I thought about it but I think I came up with a better idea." She brought around a white rubber mask made to cover the entire head and neck. "I'm sorry, I have a confession to make. I'm actually already white. I know it must come as a shock but I wasn't sure how you'd react to the truth." "Thanks for that one, now I know I picked the right costume for you. It's a clown mask." "Why not just paint the face on?" "Notice anything about the shape of the chin, nose or cheeks? It'll look better once I apply it. You're going to be a lady clown tonight! Hey, you said I could make you anything I wanted. Consider it a compliment that I'll need this much rubber to give you feminine features." "Yeah, that's fine. I just wasn't sure what I was expecting." She gave the inside of the mask one more inspection in the light then went to pick up the bottle and a fresh brush. "Close your eyes and mouth for this step." He did as instructed then spoke through his teeth. "How much now?" "Oh, I'll only be securing it to key points so basically you're getting a layer over your face and neck." His face was soon covered with the liquid adhesive. Broad strokes of the applicator brush made short work of the area around his neck. He could feel it tighten as it dried to a film. A generous application of powder was applied after the glue became clear. "Okay, you're good. It won't stick to anything yet." He opened his eyes and carefully moved his lips. "This feels... different." "Yeah, it's like one of those peel-off facial masks except it doesn't loosen when you move your face. Just wait until you have the actual mask on! You'll get used to it after a bit. While I've been working I almost forgot about my face." A few taps of her fingertips confirmed that it was ready for the next step. She carefully slid the mask over his head. "So now all I have to do is apply a bit of alcohol to a spot at a time to reactivate the- you don't really care about the details, do you?" "All I know is I'm a fan of your work. Do what you need to do." She dipped a brush in alcohol and poked away at his face and the mask. Starting from around the nose and working outward she trimmed away and reapplied sections as needed. She eventually managed to secure it in place. "There. It should move completely with your face without coming off." He tested it by making faces then brought his hand up to feel it. "Go ahead. You can't really pull it off so don't worry about accidental damage." A light tug on his nose confirmed her statement to his satisfaction. "So I can guess why you wanted to do a gender-swap makeup but do you really think of me as a clown?" Anne was already busy preparing her paints. "No, it's not that. It's just that you seem to be under a lot of stress lately and I started thinking about what I could do to put a smile on your face." "How often is "Superglue it on" your solution to problems?" "Oh come on! I have to paint it on too! So why have you been depressed lately? Is it just work?" He sighed at the mere mention of the word. "More or less. I'm not complaining about the pay but there has to be a way for me to make a decent living without treating people this way. Mr. Babcock seems to think tricking people is okay because 'That's how the game's played, son!'" "Is he doing anything illegal?" "Well, no. I don't think he'd ever break the law exactly but the way he talks to people just seems...manipulative." "Of course. He's a car salesman. Maybe the job just isn't for you." "I think he would agree on that but he seems to think I have enough potential to keep around. When you get your business running I'll start looking for a new job." "I have three weddings booked next month. It'll help pay the bills but I still need to make a name for myself. Maybe I'll impress some people tonight, who knows?" Various shades of red and bold black lines gave the prosthetic its character. She turned her boyfriend around in the chair to face the mirror and have a good look at his new face. He gleefully gasped. "Oh my god! I'm so freaking cute right now! The shape looks so much more soft than I was expecting. It'll take a while to get used to knowing people see me this way." "It's strange when you get so comfortable that you forget your appearance and people seem to treat you differently but then you remember and either you change your behavior or they change theirs. But I'm about to give you a couple of reminders for tonight!" She pulled from a box two large white latex breast forms. "Wipe down your chest while I get these ready." He cleaned his chest with astringent pads and water while she applied adhesive to the breast forms and his chest. After allowing it to dry she slowly laid them in place. Solvent was used to adjust the edges and white paint blended them away. "That's it for prosthetics. Wait until you see the costume I made to go with them." A neck-entry latex catsuit was laid out on her bed so she could check her tailoring one more time. "I'm seeing a Harley Quinn theme here with the colors." "Red, black and white are classics. I'll admit to being inspired by it but the patterns are totally different. That and you're going bald." "Well I've noticed some thin spots here and there but that's not what you meant is it?" He checked himself out in the mirror again. "Bald can work." "First we need to get Tiny Tim tucked away since this suit will be tight down there." To her satisfaction he could no longer contain his excitement after he took off his pants and underwear. "The little guy wants to come out and play!" She took his erection in her hands and kissed the tip, then wrapped her lips around its head. "Anne, hold on just one moment." She gripped his shaft and looked up in anticipation. "That's not what I meant. I appreciate the offer but you spent three and a half hours on your face and I don't want to risk making a mess of it. On top of that, I know it's you under there but I can't help but feel like I'm about to get another blowjob from Ms. Babbage down the street." "You're one to talk, Clown Tits! If it was a problem what got you aroused in the first place?" "Maybe I have an unexplored fetish for getting poked in the face with brushes. Wait, I have an idea." He leaned over to pick up his phone from the makeup counter. "Think about it. Clown transvestite P.O.V. blowjobs from women in rubber granny masks could be a whole new thing! We could be pornography pioneers! Let me get my phone." She let go and stood from the floor. "I don't care if I'm in disguise, I'm not posing for blowjob pics.." "I'm not really going to take a picture. I just wanted to look it up and see if it was a thing." After a minute of searching his disappointment could be seen through his painted smile. "Not a thing?" "No, it's behind a paywall. But they have weekly updates! Oh, they have a sister site with lizard girl straightjacket bondage!" He walked to the bathroom captivated by the screen. "Don't worry, I can handle it." After Anne endured a few noisy and disappointing minutes she tossed him new undergarments. "You can give it a rest tonight in these." He quickly slipped into a gaff to hide his nature. "I've powdered the suit for you so you'll just need to step into it like they were footie pajamas...with rubber butt pads." They spent the next several minutes stretching the suit over his arms and legs and up to his latex breasts. As they tried to get the suit up over his shoulders they found that it would slide off after some movement. "I think I made a mistake in the tailoring. I guess I didn't expect those breasts to be that stiff." "I prefer to think of them as 'super perky'!" "Either way we'll need a solution." She looked around her room for ideas. "Of course, I can just use rubber cement to stick the clothing to your boobs!" It was not long before Tim was sealed into his costume with rubber cement. "Try moving around." He flexed his arms and waist only to find that the suit was held properly in place. "Awesome. I'll get my scarf, gloves and blanket then we can head out to the party." ***** The '6th Annual All Hallow's Ball' had become the oldest surviving festival held by the town of Jackson Fields. In a town infamous for petty squabbles and passing the buck it had been no small feat to keep the celebration alive. If Mrs. Jameson had not been caught last month vandalizing the home of her sworn nemesis she might have succeeded in her coup to eliminate the event she claimed was "an assault on traditional morals". The celebration was in high gear when the crimson clown companion of an elderly woman opened her door in a parking lot nearby. "Thank you, dear." "My pleasure as always! So what do we check out first?" "I'm going to the live music venue. It's a good place to be seen and I can't wait to see how people react to me in this." "I think I'll head over to the pumpkin pie carving contest. I'll catch up with you after a bit." They shared a quick hug before preparing to depart. "You were right, this does put a smile on my face! There's no relief quite like public anonymity." Tim shifted his shoulders and rubbed his rubber face. "If only it didn't itch so much. Oh well, it's a small price to pay. Thanks again." "You're welcome but for all you've done for me I still feel like I owe you. Now go have some fun!" ***** Along the sidewalks on tables unfolded in rows sat pies for the judgement of the community. It was found after the incident in September that any small panel of judges could not be trusted to be impartial due to allegations of bribery and intimidation. This led to the decision to allow the contest to be decided by community vote. As the community at large had no interest whatsoever in the obscure art of pumpkin pie carving it was accepted that the trivial decision would be the same regardless. Tim stood out among the small crowd like a ball bearing in a litter box. His glossy curves would attract the gaze of folks who would say it was impolite to stare. With a squeaky creak he bent over to inspect a contender that had etched into its caramelized coating the silhouette of a werewolf howling at the full moon. He hid his voice behind a feminine tone. "I would love to know how you managed the fine details. I tried a tree once but it just looked like someone sneezed on it." Met with silence he looked up to see an elderly woman struck mute with fear. Seeking to calm her he instinctively reached across the table to offer his hand only to have her scream and cower. Uncertain of his mistake he began to step away from her as onlookers came to console the poor old woman. A fellow baker spoke out. "She's afraid of clowns, bless her heart. You should probably leave." Embarrassed, he began to walk away when it became his turn to cower. Wearing a black suit and tie with martini in hand Horace Babcock hurried toward the commotion. "Who is this clown and who allowed her near our dear Miranda?" Tim stuttered and blurted as a conditioned reflex. "Yes sir, I'm sorry-". The pull of rubber against his skin reminded him of his current appearance and he quickly corrected his voice. "I don't look like I'm trying to scare folks, do I? Mr. Bond, I presume?" "Yes indeed, but friends and pretty women call me Horace. Someone should have told you but I can see why they might have missed a beat seeing you here with a costume like yours. Most folks around here would toss on some ears on a headband and call themselves a cat for the night but that right there is some genuine quality!" "Thanks but it's not my work. I'm just the model tonight. I'll pass on your compliments, though! I really should get going before she has another episode." "No, stay around for a bit." He place his arm across his shoulders and allowed his fingers to dangle near his breasts. He leaned in for a whisper. "Between you and me the old hag could use a scare. Did you know she was helping Mrs. Jameson try to shut this thing down? Who do you think came up with the 'Balls of Satan' fliers? But right as her dear leader gets caught tossing rotten casserole in drive-by raids she suddenly claims someone made her write those things. Only thing worse than a fanatic is a two-faced turncoat is what I say." He rubbed his bald latex head and gave him a pat on the back. "Now go apologize, ma'am." he said with a wink. Tim suppressed a shudder. "I have to go. I'll, uh, see you around!" Quick steps made for a hasty retreat to the main stage. ***** A man offered his seat to Anne as she ambled her way to the front of the crowd. Unable to refuse the offer without ruining the illusion she worked so hard to achieve she accepted the seat graciously. The idle tuning and testing of an acoustic guitar could be heard underneath the low murmur of spectators. To pass the time she inspected the row and saw an elderly neighbor who had apparently been offered the same courtesy two seats down. Anne leaned over to test her impersonation once more. "They don't make music like in the good old days anymore. Kids these days are too noisy and angry." The neighbor looked back in disgust. "I bet you sat on your ass listening to 'Carole King' back in the day, you old prude." " 'Old'? Aren't we about the same age?" "If it's too loud you're too old!" She shouted at the young man about to perform. "Take off your shirt!" She couldn't help but laugh at her mistaken assumptions. The sun began to set as the singer made his voice and instrument resonate with the all-too-familiar twang of the region. Those there to listen went quiet as they allowed his voice to speak for them, if only for a while. ***** Tim knew that even at dusk he would have a hard time losing himself in the crowd with his appearance. His boss tried to follow at a measured distance but it was not enough for him to ease his nerves. His costume now felt like an enforced restriction where before he felt open and secure. Eyes were upon him wherever he went at the fair but he had figured that at least at the concert there would be competition for attention. He doubted Anne was having the same trouble. He had to stop at the edge of the concert field to see if she could be spotted in the seats. He tried to get her attention with a wave but the only responses were from faces in the crowd who felt the need to point and stare. His decision to stop soon caught up with him as Horace reintroduced himself from behind. "I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot back there. Now I'll admit that I was wrong to want to see Ms. Miranda startled again but that was just a momentary lapse of reason on my part. I assure you that I truly meant no harm or disrespect to either her or you." He knew that he could end this harassment with a simple confession of his identity but that would do more harm than good in the long run and could be cause for abuse of a different kind entirely if a crowd became aware of his charade. Defensive flirting to keep his behavior from escalating seemed like the only option. "You're okay. I just don't feel like talking right now. Let's just enjoy the concert." He continued to stand close to Tim, shifting his position any time he tried to casually create distance. A nervous pull on his mask made to look like a scratch of the chin did little to calm him down. It was apparent his boss had lost his patience when he palmed his padded rear. "Mr. Babcock! Keep your hands to yourself!" "Darlin', I'm not sure if we've met before tonight but I do not remember giving you my last name this evening." Tim swallowed hard. He knew he was in danger of revealing too much but assured himself his disguise was sufficient. As a fortunate side effect of his outburst Anne quickly approached from the concert seating. He stared wide-eyed at his girlfriend hoping she understood what was needed. "Hello there! I see you've met my partner here. What do you think of her costume?" "Good evening, ma'am. I have to say it is one of the best I've seen in some time and is helped in no small part by how she manages to fill it out! As this little lady seems to know all too well, my name is Horace Babcock of Babcock Motors. We have special long-term financing options for senior citizens such as yourself if you ever wish to stop on by and have a look!" Anne's blushing may have been hidden by her mask but her expression was unmistakable. "Oh no, I'm not actually old. This is all special effects makeup." "Well isn't that something." "I'm Anne. I know you don't recognize me of course but do you remember a younger woman at the town business luncheon last August?" "Wait, were you the one with Tim?" Anne nodded affirmatively. "Then that really is good makeup. Is he here tonight?" "He's been looking a bit pale, actually. He has a lot of redness around the eyes, you know how it gets this time of year." "I'm sorry to hear that. He's a good kid." "Let me give you my card. I'm a professional makeup artist and if you ever have need of my services-" "I don't think I'd care for your services but I know if this rubber doll here ever wanted to service me I'd happily oblige her." Tim could feel his skin crawl beneath the latex. He could see the disappointment in his partner's eyes as yet another window was about to close on her aspirations. In spite of his revulsion he pushed himself to continue. After all, he thought, this wouldn't be the worst thing he had done in the name of business. "If you wanted to engage in further business I'm sure we could arrange something but otherwise I doubt I'd have reason to wear this costume ever again." Horace made his offer. "How much would it cost me to have you come back to my place tonight wearing that number for a 'service call'?" Tim took the opportunity to press. "Sir, may I remind you that you are a gentleman and a professional in this community! If word ever came out that you tried to solicit a woman's favor you could find yourself on the end of a boycott!" "Oh, you thought I was asking for you to- no, I would never do-" He saw his opening and made his pitch. "What could you have possibly meant? Were you wanting me to be your model instead of hers? Do you see me as some sort of advertising mascot?" Mr. Babcock took the hook. "Well, of course! What else could I have meant? When I saw you this evening, the first thought on my mind was 'This face belongs on my...'Babcock'!' 'Babcock Motors' I mean, my company. This face belongs on my company! Yes, and I would be willing to offer you a decent sum for your service! And of course, what I meant was your service as a spokesmodel!" Tim loudly cleared his throat. "Aren't you forgetting someone?" "Oh yes, and I'll need Anne for makeup and wardrobe, of course." "Of course, and when you said 'tonight' you meant-" "Yes, you can come over tonight and we can work out the details!" "And by 'details' you mean-" "Just come on over and we'll talk business. And by that I mean..." He scribbled his home address on the back of his business card. "Meet me here. Don't worry about the costumes." ***** Anne quickly rummaged through the mess in her room to make sure her laptop and portfolio were ready for presentation. "How about that, it looks like you have your first big client." She tossed her things into a carrying case and grabbed a bottle of solvent. "We don't have his signature yet. I know he said he didn't care about the costumes but I really don't like the idea of doing business looking like this." "So bring your makeup remover along and you can take your mask off when you get over there." Anne was already down to her underwear and pulling her casual business attire out of her closet. The dull, wrinkled appearance of her rubber appliances stood out in stark contrast to her smooth, taut skin underneath. Tim became fixated on Anne's strange state of dress. "I want you so much right now. I know, I know, it can wait but-" She dropped the blouse in her hands and made her way over. "No, it can't. Your boss can wait." She unzipped his suit at the crotch and gave it room to breathe. He was erect in no time and Anne cared little for his sweat. "Just let it go wherever. I'm tearing this mask off before we go anywhere." She wrapped her lips around his erection and held her masked face in her hands. Her mouth moved down and back as the unyielding adhesive pulled at her skin. In little time she made him come and ruin the makeup she had applied expertly hours before. She wiped her lips. "How was that?" "Fantastic. You have to let me return the favor." "I insist but after our meeting. I don't think we'll have a deal if he knows who you are under there and you might end up with some stains that I'd rather not have to explain." She sat down at her makeup mirror and dipped a brush into solvent. Slowly she began to work the brush up underneath the mask and dissolve the glue that held it in place. She would wince whenever she tried to work too quickly and pull at a piece before it was properly removed. "You do realize that you'll be wearing that costume a lot more if this deal goes through, right?" She had almost removed the waddle on her throat after several minutes of work. "I can put up with it for a while. Besides, with our second and third incomes I should have no trouble switching careers when this campaign is over. To be honest, just knowing that I'll be putting one over on that old pervert is all the motivation I need!" ***** Horace had arrived home just as the sun had set on the day. "Hey gorgeous, I know it's late but we're going to have some guests over in a bit." His wife met him at the door. "Hi, honey. Who in the world would you be inviting over this late on a Saturday night?" "I got an employee of mine and his girlfriend coming over. I ran into them up at the festival and they gave me this great idea for a new advertising campaign. I can't wait to see how old Ms. Miranda is going to act seeing that clown's face all over town. I wasn't sure if he really had it in him but it seems he just needed the right motivation." "Had what in him, dear?" "The stuff. I'm finally going to make a real salesman out of him...in a manner of speaking."