There haven’t been many times I’ve felt this nervous.
My heart is beating in my chest as I sit in the reception area, my formal skirt clinging too hard to my hips, the collar of my shirt feels strange and constricting. I’ve been unemployed for too long now. At first, I had high hopes of getting more work in advertising. And as time went on, I lowered my standards.
Last week I’d interviewed at a fast food restaurant, entirely sure I would be offered the job. I’d done a bit of restaurant work as a teenager and knew what I was doing. But the teen manager had called me back a few hours later to tell me I was over qualified. It was devastating.
And now this. I’d seen the job ad in the local classified and even as I applied, I knew there was something wrong with it. But I was desperate. The job was for a personal assistant. There was only one big red flag, there was a six figure salary attached. I wasn’t stupid, but I was desperate.
I pick up a magazine and leaf through it, not really taking the article in. There’s a good chance there’s no job at all. I’m surely wasting my time. No one pays that much for a PA, so either I’m about to be scammed or asked to do something illegal. A small, optimistic part of my mind looked around the waiting area. It was nice. It looked expensive. Maybe the job offer was a real one and the manager was just very good to his staff?
A man appears in the doorway holding a binder full of papers. He looks around 40 and gives me a wide smile when he sees me.
“Miss Taylor? Would you like to come through?”
He doesn’t look like a scam artist, he looks kind. Despite this, my heart rate isn’t calming down. If this is a multi level marketing pitch, I’m probably going to cry.
“Did you manage to find the place okay?” He looks back at me as he asks.
“It’s fairly easy to find. I didn’t have any problems.”
He leads me down a corridor and in to a small meeting room. No tour of the building? That’s a bad sign too. They almost always want to show you the building first.
He offers me a seat and looks over my printed out CV.
“Did anyone ask you to apply for this position?” He talks distractedly as he reads.
He looks up.
“You’ve been unemployed for a very long time. Wow. 5 months. How are you coping with that?”
I blush. I’m not coping. I have as much credit card debt as the banks can give me and unless I get a job soon, this months rent isn’t getting paid.
“I erm. Well, I’m hoping to get something soon.”
“You’ve not got much relevant experience, I’ll be honest. I don’t think you’ll be a good fit.”
The weight on my shoulders suddenly feels very heavy. The adrenaline is wearing off and I feel fairly sure I’m going to cry. He begins to explain more about the company but his words have blanked my mind. I’m wasting my time being here.
“Do you think you can do that, Miss Taylor?”
“Were you even listening to me?”
“Sorry, I just…”
“Do you know anything about this position at all?”
I didn’t reply. All of my focus was on making sure I left the room without sobbing and that was going to be a difficult task.
“We pay what we pay because we want good people. The best people. Employees who are eager to serve, and to be the best at what they do. I need someone flexible and someone who can attend to my every need.”
Something clicked in my mind.
“So you really are looking for an employee?”
“And you really are looking to pay her that salary?”
“Yes, we are.”
My mind filled in the blanks. Not multi level marketing. Not a scam, and nothing too criminal either.
This man is looking for an employee with benefits.
He smiles at me, seemingly aware I’ve caught up with the situation.
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you would be a good fit for the company.”
This was crazy. Entirely crazy. Is he really doing this? Conducting an interview for a long term escort who will also do his filing?
“What exactly would be expected of me?” I ask.
He says nothing. Instead, he goes to his desk, opens a binder and produces a document. He puts it on the table in front of me. There are multiple bullet points, stretching over three pages.
“The employee must never wear panties. The employee must always be available for… Oh. God.”
He doesn’t engage with me. Just watches as I read. I look up at him, my body warm with how explicit the contract is and how curious I am about it.
“Do I have time to think about it?”
“No. If you want to be considered, you’ll begin immediately.”
It’s so vulgar, so wrong. But when he leans down and kisses me I respond to it. I’m kissing him back before I even think about what I’m doing. His aftershave smells delicious to me, his lips are soft and for a moment, he’s gentle as his tongue pushes in to my mouth.
My body lights up. This is such a terrible idea, everything about it is wrong. But I don’t pull away. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been kissed like that.
His kisses don’t stay gentle. I push my body against his and he responds immediately, pushing me towards the desk. It’s so natural, so natural to pull on his shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as I can manage. His skin is tanned, a little hair but not lots. I’m so eager, my mouth dips down to try and lick and kiss the flesh.
“Hey, hey, hey. Wait.” His voice seems to be struggling for control as I put my lips against his chest.
“Hey.” He physically pulls me away, clearly struggling with his own lust and desire. “You really are horny, aren’t you? Really needy. That’s not a bad thing but you will need to learn to control yourself.”
“You’ll need to learn to control yourself.”
Was he right? Did I want this? I seem to have skipped straight past the part where I decided if this was a good idea or not, and right to the part where I need to learn to keep my hands off my new boss.
I do as I’m asked, dropping back to sit on the black office chair. I’m so aware of how hot and warm my pussy is, I’m so wet in my panties from the kisses.
“Remember Miss Taylor. This is an interview.”
He stands in front of me and removes his belt. My mind is so clear, so blank. Every worry I walked in here with has vanished and been replaced by a base desire to satisfy the man in front of me.
He calmly unzips himself and takes his cock out from his pants. He’s not completely hard but most of the way there.
“Show me how you would suck your bosses cock.”
I get down on my knees and take the thick cock in to my mouth, paying close attention not to let my teeth drag. I let my tongue gently coat the head and body of his dick with my spit, getting every inch slick and wet. His hands are stroking my face as I push him further back in to my throat, relaxing to avoid the gag relax.
He draws breath in reaction, a noise of raw pleasure.
“You are a good girl, aren’t you? Keep going. Don’t stop.”
I’m more than happy to oblige him.
“I want you to imagine this is a one of our clients. I want you to close the sale for me. Show me how you’d do that.”
I change pace a little, my mouth more gentle, more needy. I sigh and push him deeper again, right in to the back of my throat. His cock is so hard now, I feel a small bead of precum leak from the tip, and I lap it up like it’s sweet honey.
His voice is strained, his muscles tense. I realise he’s going to cum soon, and I want it. I want it in my mouth, I want to impress this man so much he’ll beg me to take his job.
Picking up my pace, licking and pumping my lips up and down around him, my tongue moving against his hard cock, I feel his muscles tense and I know I’m going to get what I worked for. With a gasp, hot thick cum starts to fill my mouth up. I swallow each bit, so thirsty for the taste of him.
With a last shudder, he firmly separates me from his softening cock.
“Very good Miss Taylor.”
I get up off the carpet, and smooth my skirt out.
“When will I hear from you?”
“By the end of the week.”
He opens the door and I walk out in to the corridor like I’m walking in to a different world. Was that even real? What just happened?
A small wave of excitement grips me. Whatever happens next, the interview went better than expected.