First Impressions

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Job candidate has a one-on-one interview.
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Bruno1027
Bruno1027
552 Followers

Irene checked her watch and silently pleaded for the subway to go faster. The new high heels she had bought for today dug into the backs of her heels, drawing sharp lines of pain on her delicate skin. Her legs cramped from nervousness and fatigue of standing in the same position for the last twenty minutes. So many seats, why had no one offered her one? A man, dressed in age-old clothes and reeking of alcohol sat by her side. She pressed her legs together tightly as he angled towards her, trying to peek up the small business skirt she wore.

The ride seemed to take forever and when she arrived at her stop, she was uncomfortably pressed against the crowd of bodies as they rushed out the door. Freed from the throng, she stood on the platform, fixing her clothes and running her fingers through her hair. She pulled out her makeup mirror to check her face. This was the best opportunity she'd had since she graduated school three months ago. Jobs were not easy to come by in this city and the position she was offered paid more than she would have expected with her qualifications.

As she approached the building, she squinted to see the top. The mid morning sun gleamed on the immense wall of steel, leaving its mark when she closed her eyes. The building was one of the largest in the city and its layer upon layer of windows made it feel oppressive. She composed herself and entered through the heavy revolving door.

After some slight trouble identifying herself to security at the front desk, she was ushered into the elevator and told they were waiting for her on the twenty second floor. With a silent rush of air, she exited and studied the architecture of the floor. It was early twentieth century art deco, a style she knew well. The office was almost obsessively clean. Reflections appeared in every bare surface, in picture frames, doorways, windows and the large marble desk of the receptionist.

"Ms. Bailey?"

She nodded, feeling scrutinized.

"Wait right here. Mr. Stanton is on his way."

She thanked the woman, an older matron with a dull face and waved off her perfunctory offer of coffee or water.

There she sat, resume and references in the bag on her knees, tapping her foot impatiently as she geared herself for the questions she'd be fielding that morning.

After waiting for what seemed like most of the morning, she was greeted by a tall, dark haired man in a fresh Brooks Brother's suit. With a large outstretched hand he introduced himself as Mr. Stanton. She quickly stood up, almost losing her footing in the uncomfortable high heels, and returned the greeting. With a wave of his hand, he bade her to follow him so they may speak privately.

The office was in full production. Dozens sat and scurried in a large room in the center of the floor. Some conferred with others, some spoke rapidly on headsets, others tapped away maniacally on their computers. Mr. Stanton explained it was what they called "The Epicenter", the heart of the firm. "This is where everything gets done. Countless overtime hours, careers raised and dashed, money earned and lost. I'm sure what's taken place here has caused quite a few nervous breakdowns"

He eyed her, searching for a reaction but she only answered with a smile. "Great, I'm best in just such an atmosphere. It's what I'm used to."

He scoffed and continued the tour. As she followed, she dug her fingernails into her palm. Had she seemed too confident? Was she taking the wrong tactic? It wouldn't do well to leave a bad impression so early.

His office was impressive. His desk was a deep mahogany and framed diplomas and certificates covered the wall behind him. Shelves filled with plagues, trophies and framed pictures lined each side of the room. Looking more closely, she saw he met the Governor, shook hands with the mayor and even shared a dinner with Paul Newman.

"Now then," he said sitting across from her. "Let's get started." He offered her a smaller, well-stuffed chair and she sat gingerly. Arranging her paperwork before him, he quickly looked them over.

"Under grad at Stanford, MBA from Columbia. Quite impressive," he mused. He flitted over the pages nonchalantly before placing his attention on her. He had commanding eyes of a deep blue. His hair was dark black and perfectly kept, his fingers large, strong and perfectly manicured. He even smelled professional, Irene felt very awkward.

She noticed hewas eyeing her heels and followed them up to the curve of her legs. Irene had always considered them her best asset and usually enjoyed the affect they had on men. Here she just felt examined like a creature behind glass.

They talked of the position and discussed her accomplishments and she began to feel more relaxed. When he held her eyes she found herself becoming lost and didn't mind when he stared at the swell of her breasts of the sharp red of her lips. Her nipples firmed at the attention.

She was unable to hide this from him and found him lingering on the detail of her breasts and the outline of her nipples against her thin blouse. Though she knew she should be upset, perhaps even refuse to work for such a person, she found herself opening to him. His voice was deep but melodious. It touched her and she began to open to him.

He noticed her knees unlock and slowly drift apart. Within he could only see shadows and the hidden promise of her sex. Refusing to yield, he sat up, piercing her with his gaze.

"And what would a woman like you offer to this firm?"

She was away somewhere, imagining his hand between her legs, his lips mouthing her breast.

He feigned irritation and repeated the question in a more exacting tone. "What would you- a woman that's obviously used to getting what she wants from men- offer to this firm?"

"Well," she began, searching for the textbook answer. "As you can see, my background speaks for itself. I've worked in such an enviro-"

"I mean, you- a cockteasing little girl- you think you have what we could want?" He cut her off, growing more irritated.

Her cheeks blushed violent red and she looked down to her hands fumbling anxiously on her lap. She'd felt as if he'd looked right through her. "I- I'm really not that bad sir," she explained. "I don't mean to be. I just like to look nice for work."

He chortled inwardly and watched as her knees drifted further and further apart. "Even now I can see how you'd do at this firm. You'd be a pleasant diversion for all the rich, married stock brokers and good eye candy for all the up and coming business students. Hell," he laughed. "I'm sure if one or two of them spoke to you nice, even paid for your lunch, you'd suck their cock in the coatroom. Am I right?"

The office was dead silent now and, while her body responded to the accusations, she stayed rooted in her seat, unable to look up.

"Really, Mr. Stanton, I don't know where all this is coming from. I'm a professional woman, with a professional background. I'm not some woman you can pick up with a drink at any bar on the corner." She tried to sound outraged but her voice came out in a squeak.

He watched her, as if he knew better. "Is that so, Ms. Bailey?"

She nodded, unable to speak. She was slowly losing herself.

"Stand up, Ms. Bailey." It was a quieter voice now, more peaceful and calm. She was drawn to it. Without a thought, she did as told, perched tenuously on high heels in front of him. "Turn around," and she did.

She felt his hand on the curve of her ass and bent over to allow him a better feel. He pawed at her, gripping handfuls of flesh from her rear through the business skirt she wore. A not so gentle slap on her ass let her know he was pleased.

"Now then," he said. "Everyone in the office likes to see what they're getting with a new employee. As I'm sure more than a few of the men here will be trying you out, I'd like to see what you have to offer."

Still she couldn't look at him. She wished she could say something but knew he was right. She had gotten to where she was mainly by her looks. Employers were more impressed with that than her resume and she used it however she could. She wasn't above going braless at an interview, letting her underwear show or smiling at unwelcome advances. Today she'd even allowed him a look up her skirt. How could she deny his accusations?

She was strong and she was smart. She wasn't above using what she had and if she must, she would feel no shame. Standing proudly, her eyes met his. With a slight smile, she began unbuttoning her blouse, allowing her manicured fingers to glide over each button to reveal the perfumed skin beneath. That morning she chose a small, white lace bra and as she opened her blouse, she inhaled to allow him a better view of her chest.

She wasn't endowed in that area; in fact she was more self conscious of that part than any other on her body. She had cute, well formed breasts and though they were too small for her liking, men seemed to enjoy them.

He sat back and, with his finger on his square chin, watched her. With a quick snap she unclasped her skirt and shuffled it off her hips and down her legs. When she stood wearing nothing but her garter and stockings, panties and bra, she spread her legs, placed her hands on her hips and looked down at him.

Her sex riled and she felt herself grow warm between her legs. She'd always enjoyed showing herself off to others and enjoyed the reactions she got. No man would refuse her a job after seeing her cute, tight body. Already Mr. Stanton's cock was stiffening. She noticed the tented crotch of his well tailored slacks. She reached down to remove her shoes.

"Leave them on," he commanded.

She obeyed and, with a motion of his hand, she knew to remove her bra. She unhooked it and held it against her naked breasts for a moment, as if shy, before it fell from her body and tumbled to the floor below. Tiny goose bumps broke out on her breasts as they felt the cool air of the room. Already her nipples were pointed. The feel of herself half naked in such an environment stirred her further.

"Leave your stockings on too, and your garter belt."

"Yes, Mr. Stanton," she said, aware of how she sounded.

He reclined in his shiny leather chair as he watched her undress delicately. When naked she looked much smaller. Her breasts were small, almost pubescent, and her hips were distinctively curved. She shook slightly as the last of her clothes dropped to the floor. Unable to look at him, she held her head down. When she gained the courage to look up she saw he was looking directly between her legs.

"You're shaved," he said, almost a question.

"Y-yessir."

"Any particular reason?"

She considered this for a moment. There were several but did she feel comfortable enough to tell him?

"Personal preference? Boyfriend's suggestion, perhaps?" He grinned at her. "You are old enough to have pubic hair, aren't you?"

She grew angry at this and imagined cursing him and slapping his face. Her body wouldn't respond, however. "Just like it, I guess. It feels nice. Soft...cleaner too..."

A wide smile broke out on his face. "Feels nice? What do you mean? For playing with yourself?

"No," she said, now returning his stare. "I mean it feels better under my dress. Feels better against my panties."

On his command she turned. He reached and caressed her ass gently. She sighed involuntarily and caught herself.

"Reach back and spread your ass apart. I want to see you."

She did as told, feeling the coolness of the room tickle her sensitive asshole. He placed his finger on the spiral of her hole, holding it there for just a moment. It was a foreign feeling and it caused her to jump but, with the heel of his large hand pressed against her lower back, she calmed herself and allowed him to continue.

He seemed rapt, and quietly studied her body as it opened to him in all ways. The pouting lips of her vagina dampened and the scent of her arousal lingered in his nostrils. Despite all she felt, she could not break away, stand up and run from the room. She felt like an insect pinned to an examination board.

The touch of his soft hands felt very comforting on the smooth cheeks of her bottom and she heard herself sigh. Her eyes closed and, for that moment, gave in to him. He was cute, she didn't deny that, and she couldn't say she never had such fantasies involving boardrooms before. Still, it felt wrong. It was no way to start a new position. The wet warmth of his lips nibbling gently on her inner sex drove these thoughts from her mind. Her body flopped against the desk and her fingers gripped the soft flesh of her ass, spreading herself wider for him. Thighs parted further and she felt him pause for a moment to examine her.

She was immaculate. Her pussy was perfectly formed; two tight lips running together with a slight swell that turned into her smooth belly. Not a trace of hair was present on her cunny. This inflamed him and he pressed his mouth against her. His lips, driven by the wisdom of experience, worked her well. Her moisture grew to a dampness, then a trickle as it coated his lips.

He hummed soft contented sounds as his mouth pleased her. She shook openly and pressed her face into the desk, too shy to be seen in such a state. The flat of his tongue parted the swollen lips of her pussy and she knew he felt how wet she was. She worried what he would think. How her body betrayed her! She always felt weak when one knew how to lick her pussy. Even know she could feel herself giving in against her will.

Her legs spread and he reciprocated with his large, warm hand gently caressing between her legs. She was dripping, with moisture running down her freshly shaven thighs. He only continued to hum gently, his hand barely touched the desperate flesh of her pussy.

"Please," she begged. "Inside me. Enter me, Mr. Stanton."

He pretended not to hear her. Instead he pressed his thumb against the very bottom of her canal. He did not enter but left it pressing against her so she could only push back against it. Her naked bottom urged herself onto it as her bare ass pressed against his face. It made her feel so wanton. Never had she felt like more of a slut.

She whined loudly, hoping he would hear but she only heard him scoff. Her slit had opened, causing droplets of moisture to run down into his hand. She was fragrant and the aroma of her need only inflamed him further. His body seemed to move on its own. He fell to his knees behind her and slowly unbuckled and unzipped his suit pants. His boxers, made of expensive silk, were not able to hide his arousal. One finger searched inside and pulled his cock out. It hung ready in midair, the tip barely touching the soft skin just below her knee.

She knew how excited he was and knew it was the perfect time to make her move. First she slowly wagged her butt as he watched. His eyes never left, he was rooted to the spot as he watched her soft pink flesh undulate in front of him. He was frozen, as if hypnotized. It was the reaction she expected.

"Now, Mr. Stanton, you like my pussy don't you?" He eagerly nodded. "My cute, shaven, tight girl pussy..." When she looked over her shoulder he was practically salivating- sometimes men are so predictable. "Close your eyes. Just stay there and breathe me in. Let it overtake you." He did as she instructed and for a moment she did exactly that. Her sex opened and there was nothing for him but the fresh warm scent of her cunt as it lingered in his nostrils.

When he was quiet and she was sure he wouldn't move, she stood and turned to face him. Her little college girl cunny was so close to his lips she could feel him quiver. It was delightful.

She raised her leg and proudly rested it on the unoccupied seat of his chair. As she touched him, her smooth skin barely brushed the tip of his nose. Rather than pull back he seemed to enjoy it. A dab of moisture appeared on his skin and began to run down the bridge of his nose. He looked perfectly content. A hand stroked his hair affirmatively.

"Open your eyes. Now." He did and rather than be offended, he gasped in adoration. As he watched she opened for him. The wet lips of her slit were swollen with need. He felt intimidated, something he'd never before felt with a woman. "Look at it; the warm, loving pussy of a woman that knows what a man needs." The silence told her how he was feeling and she began to tug roughly on his hair, pulling it so it was no longer the coiffed powercut that helped him get where he was. Now, on his knees, his palm nervously cradling his erect cock, did she see him as he really was. Her pussy, now pressed tauntingly against his upper lip, brought it out of him.

She was fragrant and he felt his mouth watering. The moment she walked in the door he'd taken her for a slut and imagined how great it would be to have her in the office, keeping her in the back room for whenever the traders needed their cocks sucked. It was obvious she knew how, her soft, willing lips and smooth legs were made for pleasure. Never before, however, had he felt so aroused by a woman. He felt as if he would do anything if only he was the next she chose to satisfy. His cock pulsed and a tiny clear drop appeared at the tip, swelling and slowly traveling down his rigid shaft.

When she allowed him, he kissed the apex of her pussy just above her clitoris. A quick inhale told him how excited she was. Without further prodding, he placed several deep kisses on the swell of her mound. Soft hairs tickled his lips and the sweet taste of her skin filled his mouth. She began to undulate against him, her slit pressing against his face and leaving a wet swath of her juices.

"Good boy," she taunted. "On your knees licking me."

She spurred him to further action and with loud wet sounds he licked her lewdly. His tongue slipped up and down her velvet lips. When he parted them she spread her legs farther and pressed him deeper into her cunt. She began humping his face, holding him steady as her sex pressed painfully against the bridge of his nose. Warm moisture covered his face and trickled down his cheeks. All he could see was her girlflesh, the heat of her pussy exciting him further.

She came in a torrent. Juices erupted from her womanhood, splashing into his mouth and coating his face. She as in a frenzy as she peaked, treating him as nothing more than a toy to get off on. He held his breath, unable to breathe as her pussy blocked out all he could see. Girlcome covered him and he swallowed quickly, aroused beyond description.

When she relented he was driven. All his thoughts were on his cock and entering this young girl that had tempted him in such a way. She was weak now, anxiously gulping air and out of breath. In that instant he stood, his cock a weapon and roughly spun her around. She collapsed on the end of his desk, indifferent to his actions.

He slapped her ass angrily. Though she whined she made no resistance. The full cheeks of her rump were shiny with her juices and his fingers slid into her easily. She made only soft, warm sounds of pleasure that increased to a desperate plea as he increased the pace. His fingers were merciless as he teased. Her body had still not come down from the height of her orgasm and she continued to writhe as it slowly made its way through her.

Before it passed he held his prick in his fist and aimed it at her wet opening. He touched her there, letting her know just what he planned to do before he entered her. For a moment their juices mixed; droplets of his precome met the tide from her pussy and then he pressed forward. Each hand was full with the warm flesh of her ass and he held her open. The tiny spiral of her anus winked in pain as his shaft parted her lips.

She was magnificent, like slick velvet. He couldn't help but moan in pleasure as his cock slid deep inside her. Steadily he drove into her as she huffed and moaned. Her body was racked with fatigue and, with the intense pleasure she felt as his cock drove into her, she feared what could happen. She knew she'd lost her chance and wouldn't get the job. Now all she wanted wass one last climax. She hoped he came inside her. She'd always loved that feeling. It made her feel rewarded

Bruno1027
Bruno1027
552 Followers
12