A Job Interview at Pullen Wagstaff

"Who's he?" Miss Short pointed. It is rather rude to point.

"Another interviewee. We are waiting for a semen sample from him. He is being unco-operative. Not exactly a wise thing when you are seeking a job, eh?

"Oh."

"Now I want to measure your heart rate. Could you run on the spot for me?"

"I... I've drunk a lot of water. Could I visit the Ladies?"

Peter could see a look of annoyance cross the doctor's face. "If you must. We can take the urine sample first."

The young woman's eyes cast about, catching Peter's eyes in the process. She frowned. It was obvious she did not like him being there. He was not exactly surprised.

"Where?" she asked.

"In here," said the doctor, tapping a large glass beaker. It was not the sort of answer Miss Short expected. That was clear to Peter. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped.

"I couldn't."

"Of course you can, Melissa will hold it or you can squat on the floor."

"But..."

"Mr Long here did. Look, a very respectable quantity."

There it was, the flagon of his urine on display on a shelf, already labelled.

There was undoubted non-compliance.

"Come, we haven't all day. You do want to go to this interview, don't you?"

Reluctantly Miss Short squatted, positioning herself right over the beaker Melissa had placed on the floor. Of course she did not do that facing Peter, of course she turned away from him so he could not see her thighs opening, could not see her sex coming into view as she squatted, no doubt spreading open in what would have been a pleasing sight. What he could see was no urine was coming out. Nothing was splashing into the beaker.

"Come on, Miss Short, you can do it." Melissa was stroking her hair, an encouraging stroke, her hand gentle caressing her head as the young woman squatted beside her. Peter remembered how she had encouraged him by gently stroking his stomach and massaging his balls. Perhaps Melissa might help Miss Short with a more intimate stroking around her urethra. He had always had a 'thing' about women together, liked the idea of what they might do together. It was something, even just a little stroking; he would very much like to see. One pretty woman helping another pretty woman have a 'wee.'

He was not to be lucky, leastways about that, Miss Short's flow started. Not so much a flow as a torrent. He could certainly see that. A side view of her wee pouring into the beaker in a great splashing stream. Peter liked seeing it, he wondered if he dared risk standing and walking around for a more intimate look, see it actually rushing from her body. He rather thought he would be in trouble if he moved. The doctor seemed more than stern.

"Is... is that sufficient? I'm not sure I can stop."

There was no abatement in the hissing sound or, to Peter, the rather lovely sight of the rushing liquid. If he had not had a 'thing' about women urinating before: he would now!

"Finish please. I wish to test quantity."

The poor girl had clearly been full. As full as Peter had been and as the last few drops dripped into the beaker it was indeed filled to the brim.

Melissa dabbed with a tissue. A quick, efficient drying but Miss Short's eyes went wide. She said nothing but just stood.

Carefully Melissa bent and lifted the full beaker. Peter wondered if she would spill some, would Miss Short's urine join his on her blouse? The receptionist was very careful. Not a drop was spilled until she poured it into a flagon exactly the same as the one Peter had urinated into and got stuck. For a second time the urine flowed.

"Well done, Miss Short, rather more than Mr Long's specimen." And it was true. Placed side by side on a shelf, neatly labelled, the contents of the two flagons were not level. There was more warm urine in Miss Short's. The flagons were touching - a very strange intimacy.

"Could you jog for me now, on the spot?"

Peter might not have seen between Miss Short's legs but the sight of her two breasts bouncing as she jogged was a very pleasing sight indeed! What man does not like the sight of free breasts on the move! Nice to see her pink nipples bounding up and down, pointing up, pointing down. Her limbs on the move as well, right thigh forward, then the left and between them her fair curls so on show above her moving thighs.

"Good, good. Hold still."

The stethoscope was applied to Miss Short's chest.

"Hmmm. Could you do a little bit more strenuous exercise for me, Miss Short? Say run around the playing field out there."

Outside the window Peter had seen the extensive grounds, had noted the running track, all 400 metres of it.

"Yes, no problem. Have you something for me to wear?"

Somehow Peter rather doubted that. A company who interviewed applicants naked was rather unlikely to be worried by naked people running around a track. He was right. The answer was a curt, 'no.'

"But somebody might see."

"I wouldn't think so."

The glazed door was opened and Miss Short stepped out. It was something Peter was sure she had not envisaged when she had driven up for the interview. There was hesitation.

"Once around the track."

Peter watched her bottom and her rising and falling cheeks as she set off. A very fine figure of a young woman. Certainly a body he would rather like to...

"Mr Long. No erection yet I see. I rather thought a young female body and bouncing boobs might have stimulated you. Men normally react to that. Are you, perhaps, not really interested in women? Would it have been better if Miss Short was a young man, perhaps if he bent over and displayed his rectal orifice that would do the trick, his big penis hanging between his spread thighs?"

"No, not at all, no."

"Heterosexual then? No 'Bi' inclinations? Melissa, we'll do Mr Long's sexual survey whilst we wait for Miss Short."

"Have you ever engaged in anal intercourse?"

"No!"

"Not with a woman either?"

"Not really."

"Not really? How do you mean?"

"I... err... I haven't, not at all."

"Have you a partner - a sexual partner?"

"Err, no."

"Do you masturbate?"

Melissa looked up from her clipboard waiting for the answer to the doctor's question her eyes expectant and interested. It was embarrassing for him.

It was not exactly the sort of question you expected to answer. And when he had said 'yes' he was immediately asked how often.

Again the expectant look from Melissa. Peter did not really want to answer. Should he be truthful or not?

"Morning and evening I suppose most days."

"Sometimes more?"

"Err, yes." It was awful. Such intimate questions.

"2 stroke 3 W daily" said the doctor to Melissa. "When did you last ejaculate?"

"In... just now, in the interview room."

"Well, yes - before then?"

"Last night."

"Good, so you keep a healthy flow of semen?"

"I suppose so."

"Ah, here comes Miss Short."