The Job Interview

I was one of the unfortunate people who was laid off from their job a couple years ago. At the time there wasn't much opportunity for new employment, so I had to bide my time for a bit. But as the weeks turned into months, and then over a year, my husband and I found that his income alone just wasn't cutting it anymore. Being a former administrative assistant didn't really qualify me for much, so the opportunities weren't exactly pouring in. My husband has always joked that it was because I would hide my long legs and if I just showed them off a bit I might get an offer. Finally, I found an opportunity that I might be qualified for. "Administrative assistant wanted for executive level management" was the listing. Perfect!!!

I polished off my resume and filled out the online application. It was just like all the others I'd filled out over the previous months, only at the end of it all it asked for something none of the other applications did. "Please upload a recent photograph of yourself" was the request. Luckily my husband was obsessed with taking pictures of me, so finding a good picture wasn't difficult. I uploaded the picture and off my application went.

The next week I received an email with an offer for an interview. Excited and eager I started to research the company. The more I researched the more I got this feeling that there was something familiar about this company. Like I had heard of them before but couldn't quite figure out where. When the day of the interview came I prepared myself the best I could, put on my favourite skirt suit (which was just short and tight enough to not be inappropriate) and went on my way. When I arrived at the office I checked in with the receptionist and was lead to a waiting room with the other candidates. I looked around at them. It was a room full of Barbie-dolls in business attire. Each one of these women could just as easily slip on a swimsuit and strut down a runway. I've always been very confident in my looks, but this time I didn't feel like they gave me the competitive edge they normally do.

I watched as these women got called into the office, one by one, then walk past and out. The woman across from me was called in. She a was a cute strawberry-blonde with the most adorable freckles and stunning green eyes. As the door of the office opened I caught a glimpse of the man holding the interview. That's when it occurred to me. I knew where I had heard of this company before. I had read in the news that their CEO was accused of sexual misconduct by his now former admin assistant. Rumour had it that they paid her off to stay quiet and the case against him was dropped. I pulled out my phone and looked it up. Sure enough, there was his photo in the news article. I guess it made sense that he needed to replace his assistant. And every one of these women seemed to be what a man like him would want...eye candy!

A moment later the door opened and away walked the strawberry-blonde. Then my name was called. I was ushered to a seat across the desk from him. He closed the door and took his seat behind his desk. it was a larger desk than most people had these days. His computer monitor off to one side, a small notepad and pen in the middle, but clear otherwise. He started with pleasantries, then started to ask all the typical questions. "Tell me about your strengths." "Tell me about your weaknesses." "Tell me about a time when..." There was nothing original or challenging about this interview. In fact, the only thing more routine than the questions he asked were the answers I gave. Each one more typical than the last. After enough time I was even starting to bore myself.

Feeling defeated I looked down at my shoes. Then at my feet in the shoes, and then at my legs. The legs that my husband said were the hidden key to my success. I looked down at my body in my suit. Being home all day for almost two years allowed me to exercise every day and do yoga. I was more fit than I'd ever been before. Thats when I thought "Fuck it! I want this job and I'm getting it!" He watched me stand up, walk around the desk to his chair, and to his surprise, sit on his lap.

"What are you doing?" He asked, shocked at my actions but still remaining calm.

"Listen," I replied, "obviously you know what you're looking for, but I don't. And I really want this job!" I leaned in close and with my lips caressing his ear I whispered, "so just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it." I gave his ear a little lick and a soft nibble, then looked him in the eye. He stared back at me for a moment, then this look came onto his face. One that I've seen on my husband so many times before when he knows I want something from him.

"I think you already know exactly what I want," he said, his hand gently finding its way to the back of my head.

I slid off his lap, removed my blazer and tossed it aside. Dropping down to my knees in front of him I slid my hands up his legs. With one hand I felt his cock from outside his pants, and with the other I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. I reached into his pants and pulled out his partially erect cock. I grabbed the shaft with my left hand and gently started to stroke it. As my hand slid up and down it became more engorged, until finally it was rock hard. I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around his head. I gave him a little lick and slid my lips off.

"Atta girl!" I heard him say as his hand found its way back to the back of my head and guided me down. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue just in time to feel his entire length enter my mouth and start to slide into my throat. Before I could gag he released his hand and in a commanding tone said, "now, show me how much you want this job!". Starting slowly I slid my mouth up and down, stroking him as I did. Then my mouth moved faster and faster. Before long his cock a was shiny with my saliva and smeared with my lipstick. I sucked his cock like I did my husband's after I backed his vintage Mustang into a parking meter. He leaned back and sighed with pleasure as my mouth worked his hard dick.

Just as I thought I was coming to an end and was preparing myself for what was to come, he grabbed my head and guided me to my feet. I stood, staring at him, slightly confused. What man stops a blowjob just before he's about to cum?! He reached his hands to either side of my hips. He reached down and slid my skirt up revealing a pair of navy blue satin cheekies. He slid them down my long legs and off, placing them on the desk behind me. Cupping my pussy and gently massaging my labia with one hand, he pushed me back onto his desk with the other. As I laid there on my back, his hands still massaging between my legs, he did the most unexpected thing. With his free hand he grabbed my left hand and brought it closer to his face. He looked at my wedding and engagement rings.

"You're married?" He asked. I nodded to confirm. He grabbed my panties from the desk as he stepped closer. "The thing about married women..." he continued. Then, leaving over me to speak, he stuffed my panties in my mouth, "They know how to keep their fucking mouth shut!" Covering my panty-filled mouth he pushed himself inside me. With one slow but firm thrust, I felt every bit of him enter my body. From the intense feeling of his head stretching my vagina open, to every inch of him sliding in, to the pleasurable pain of him bottoming out against my cervix. I let out a muffled scream. He stood upright, grabbed my hips, pulled himself almost completely out, then with one solid thrust he slammed himself back into me. Then again, and again. Again and again. Harder and faster he thrust his big cock onto my married pussy. I laid there in a mix of agony and extasy as he relentlessly hammered me, until I felt it starting to come on. The back of my knees got sweaty. My back arched as my legs stretched onto the air and shook involuntarily. I grabbed the desk as my eyes rolled back and I let out a long, high pitched muffled scream into the satin panties still in my mouth. My vagina contacted as I felt myself release all over his cock.

His creamy covered cock made a sloshing sound as he continued to fuck my messy married pussy. He went even faster and more relentless than before. A sinister grin came on his flushed face as he grabbed my hips with a tight grip. He stopped thrusting, pulled himself almost completely out, and without warning slammed back in. Then again, and again! And finally, with one last hard thrust, he held himself deep inside me as he let out a long groan and I felt his warm cum burst from within him, deep into me. I felt every last spurt of his cum flow inside me.

He stood there for a minute, still inside me, as we caught our breath. Suddenly he pulled himself out and zipped himself up. He pulled the panties from my mouth, put them in his jacket pocket, grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. It took me a moment to get my balance, in which time he handed me my blazer and purse. Before I could even get my blazer back on he was ushering me to the door. He opened the door and bid me farewell. "We'll be in touch soon!" he exclaimed as he all but pushed me out of the office and back into the waiting room. "The rest of you can go home," he said to the remaining candidates, "we're done here!" He closed the door.

The young women waiting started to get up and leave. One by one they would look me up and down before walking away. My frazzled hair, lipstick smeared on my face, skirt half way up my thighs, and blouse half tucked in. I even heard one call me a whore under her breath. As the women were leaving I heard my phone vibrate. It was an email from my prospective employer with only one line that read, "For as long as you're willing to put in the effort, you'll have a job at my company."

As I walked out I passed the woman who had called me a whore. We looked at each other as I walked past. I stopped, turned to her and said, "I may be a whore, but at least I'm a whore with a job!" I turned back and walked away.