|
My First Job Interview
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
My First Job Interview
The alarm clock explodes like a nuclear missile next to my head as I
zolt out from a dream I will never remember. I slither out of bed and
grunt my way to the bathroom mirror. "Good Mourning", I say,
greeting myself into the new day. "This is the first day of the rest of
my life", I say to myself in disgust. The pillow marks imprinted on
my face resembles a picture of Australia seen from space on a cloudy
day, and I suddenly realize how insignificant I am in the scheme of the
universe. I shower, shave and brush the little hairs off my teeth; the
final reminder of a night of drunken frustration. I pick my best suite
from the closet, the navy blue conservative type with pink pinstripes. I
move to the kitchen for a nutritious breakfast of cold pizza and a glass
of orange juice.
I feel no different than a month ago, yet I have my bright new diploma
signifying my survival of the college years; a stiff piece of printed
parchment that allows me to demand a decent salary for a nothing job.
I have heard the stories from old friends of the grandiose expectations
of the "first job", and how crushed they were to find themselves peons.
That seems to be all life is; you start out a peon, but your ass to get
recognition and respect, only to find yourself a peon again with a new
group of assholes you have to answer to. What's worse is that the
higher you go, you have to find more and more little peons to shit in
just to make you feel more important.
I climb into my new, 1989 Toyota Celica, a graduation present from
the parental units, and move on to my 8:00 appointment: The First Job
Interview. As I slide down the highway in my new hot wheels look-a-
like, I notice the gas gauge on the dash blinking at me to get some gas.
I pull off the first exit praying that I don't run out of gas before I reach
the station. Let's see, I have a Shell Card, a Chevron Card, and oh
yes, the Gulf Card which I have not used in the past two years.
I drive through the gasoline alleys which border the offramps of
America's highways only to find Phillips 66, Texaco, 7-11, and a
Hardeys. I have two singles in my pocket, so I will have to dig that out
if I want to make my appointment. 7-11 is the cheapest, and as all
college students, I don't care about the quality of the gas, just the
quantity. This is called the collegiate beer syndrome, and is carried
over to all purchases made by the average college student. It starts
when the young freshman, just coming of age, finds himself in a
convenience store to buy beer with $8 in his pocket. He can buy 1 six-
pack of St. Pauli Girl with some change left over, 2 six-packs of
Michelob, or a whole suitcase of BUSH. Of course he buys the BUSH
so he can give on to a few friends, and still have more than a twelve
pack to get an unsuspecting lady friend drunk and catch a good buzz
himself. I get $2 worth of gas and run into the store to pay my bill.
The guy at the counter is an unshaven, poorly dressed old man of
about 65 with a Cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I hand him the
tow dollars and run back out to the car without saying a word. I jump
into the car and look at my watch : 7:38 A.M. ... I'll just make it!
I haul back onto the highway heading at warp speed to the office when
I see in the distance a beautiful bright red 1988 Jaguar XJ-6 pulled
over on the side of the road. I slowed to admire the incredible piece of
machinery and saw a woman sitting on the front fender of the car. I
passed by telling myself that I should have stopped to help her. "I'm
sure she'll be all right", I said trying to rationalize my coldness, "
someone will stop to give her a hand". I went about two miles down
the road before pulling over to the side. I noted to myself that I would
regret the decision, but turned around to offer aid to the damsel in
distress.
When I got back to the Jaguar, I crossed the road and got out of the
car. The woman was still sitting on the fender seeming to gaze at the
sky without worry. "Is everything okay?", I yelled as I approached the
car. She turned and smiled, "No, the damned thing just quit on me."
"Is anyone coming to help you?", I asked. "No", she said, "You are
the first." I thought to myself, "With all the horny bastards in this
town, I am the first to stop a woman broken down on the side of the
road ... YES!"
She came around to the side of the car to greet me, as I stood looking
at the car. I looked up at her and, all of a sudden, had no idea where I
was, who I was or what in the hell I was doing there. She was a
beautiful brunette of about 30, with bright blue eyes, a perfect figure
and wearing an off white knee length dress cuss at the neck so that her
breasts were slightly visible. I felt numb inside and could hardly bring
myself to speak. "What happened", I asked her in a shaky voice. "I
don't know", she said, "It just stopped running". Knowing nothing
more about cars than were to put the key and the gas I said, "It sounds
like a fuse, would you like me to take a look?" "If you would, she said,
"I'm afraid I nothing more about cars than were to put the key and the
gas."
Trying to sound intelligent, I opened the driver's door and said "I'll
take a look under the dash and see if it's just a fuse." I laid down on
the leather bucket seat and started to fiddle with the 500 different
wires next to the steering column. "I was so worried that I would be
here all day", she said in a relieved sort of voice. "You probably will
here all day", I said under my breath, totally confused with the array of
wires and boxes around me. I looked up to get a glance at her and
smiled, "give me just a minute". The wind blew softly though her hair
and the breeze pushed her dress against her breasts. Her nipples
hardened and shone through the cloth like candles in the night,
piercing through to welcome me home. I scanned her body as she
stood beside the door waiting for some results. I imagined her soft
thighs gently brushing my ears in a rocking motion when I caught the
scent of fresh honeysuckle in the wind. My member immediately rose
to the thought so I moved my legs to cover my obvious excitement.
I accidentally pulled a yellow wire out of its control box as I moved,
and the stereo lights went off accompanied by a pop through the
speakers. "What are you doing", she asked as she bend down to see
what had happened. "I had to disconnect the stereo speakers to get to
the fuse box", I snapped, worried that she might discover my
incompetence, "Who installed this stereo anyway." "My brother", she
said, "I know he would fuck something up." She started to move back
when her supporting hand slipped from the steering wheel right on to
my hard pulsating cock. She asked, "Are you okay? .. I didn't hurt
you did I?" I was more embarrassed than she was at her discovery,
and turned away to avoid looking at her although I could feel my
throbbing mass between her fingers. She kept her hand still between
my legs grasping my thunderous hard-on. She rubbed my other leg
gently with her hand and told me not to be embarrassed.
She started to move her hand back and fourth across my rod, and sat
down beside me on the leather seat. I could still taste garlic from my
morning pizza, and became more concerned with that than my
embarrassment. I sat there immobile as she unzipped my suit pants
and pulled my bobbing dick from its pocket. She scratched the shaft
with her long fingernails, and I began to breath deep with pleasure.
Cars whizzed by on the highway, unaware of the pleasure I was
sensing, which even heightened my excitement. I tried to pull up to
move over on the seat and bumped my head on the steering wheel.
She smiled at me, lifted my head with her hand behind my neck,
moved on top of me and closed the door with her foot. I could smell
the fine leather of the XJ-6 bucket seats combined with the sweet
aroma of her perfume and musty cunt. I crawled over to the passenger
seat so that her fingers could again find me. A bead of pleasing pre-
cum dripped out of the head of my dick as her fingers encircles its
circumference at the tip. She pulled the well pressed slacks off my
body and threw them into the back seat.
Her nipples were erect and firm, still shining though her dress. I
grabbed the bottom of her dress, now at her waist, and pulled it over
her head, exposing two of the most elegant tits I had seen in my 20
years. They were perfectly rounded at the base, coming to sky seeking
peaks at the nipples. I took one in my mouth while gently pinching
the nipple of the other. Its taste was as sweet as the morning dew and
scent of sex in the car, a captivating animal aroma, pumped blood
into my organ with every breath. I took the nipple between my teeth
and bit gently while sucking in a tender rhythm and stroking
continuously with my wet tongue. She writhed about on top of me
with her long brown hair tickling my face as I worked. I moved my
way up her body to her neck and ears and began to lick and blow
simultaneously. I held her delicate body in my firm hands with her
breasts pressed against my chest. She quivered like a leaf in the wind
as my fingers progressed down her sides to her firm ass. I massaged
the backs of her thighs and pulled her down onto my leg. I could feel
the moist warmth of her wet pussy through her laced panties as she
brushed against my leg.
I pulled up my knees on either side of her to move my socked feet
inside her briefs. Moving my legs down her thighs, the frail garment
followed obediently baring her shaven cunt. My tongue traced the
path of pleasure between her mounds to her belly button. I felt every
muscle in her stomach and back flex to bring the naked flesh to my
mouth. A pool of her sugary fluid ran down by chin as she moved to
my mouth. Her outer lips danced open with her heart beats as I probed
inside with my eager tongue. She tasted of raw honey, and her
precious juice poured into my mouth like that of a ripened orange. I
though that I could drown and die a happy death with the thighs of
this amazing woman around my head.
I carefully took her rock hard and pulsing clit between my teeth and
teased it with my tongue. I tried to be gentle, but she began to slam
her body violently against my face. Her breaths began to shorten and I
could hear the squeal of her voice as she took from me what she so
badly desired. My chin slid into her wide tunnel and I felt it constrict
sporadically as gallons of cum dripped down the sides of my face. She
seized my head striving to pull me into her and then stopped; just
trembling on top of me. Her pleasure alone nearly had me cumming
with her.
When she finished, she moved down my body and grasped my crying
dick with one hand. She kissed me deeply and erotically as my balls
drew up close to my body preparing to spit a viscous life-water in her
hand. I held on, waiting anxiously to enter her. She pushed her
sopping cunt down on to my cock, now hard enough to cut glass, and
rubbed it on the outside of her baby cunt. She arched her back and
slowly took me inside of her with a look of relief, pleasure and
satisfaction on her smiling face. She opened her eyelids and her blue
eyes pierced through me and stared directly at my soul. She smiled
again and laid her head on my shoulder, constantly thrusting her
wetness onto my swollen dagger. My hot steel throbbed inside her
silken love sock burning to spit its fire deep inside. Her cunt suddenly
gripped my shaft like a vise and my balls squeezed out loads of
steaming jism. My molten soul erupted into her cumming cave as she
dug her fingers through my back. The lurid scent of sex bombarded
my senses and I opened my eyes to behold her elegant presence. My
senses failed, sending cold darkness to my brain.
My vision slowly returned to show me the inside of my own car. I
could feel warm cum in my pants surrounding my flaccid member; my
shirt, cold and wet, sticking to my chest. Sweat dripped from my brow
into my itching eyes. I looked at my watch, suddenly remembering my
vital meeting: 7:38 A.M. I was still sitting at the 7-11. "What the
fuck", I said to myself. I floored the gas and bolted back to the
interstate. Speeding through the city, I never saw a trace of the Jag
and directed my thought to getting through this interview.
I immediately found the nearest bathroom once inside the building and
dried out the inside of my stained pants with one of those grocery bag
paper towels. The elevator, small and stuffy, took me quickly to the
sixth floor, where the rest of my life awaited. I opened 616 and
walked in confidently, hiding behind a wall of sheer terror. I looked
like shit, I felt like shit, and know that this prestigious company would
never employ a man in my shape. I continued, however, determined to
hear them tell me in person that I was a worthless scumbag. I stepped
to the receptionist's desk, "Good morning, I have and eight o'clock
with ..., uh,... with" , "with Ms. Tanning Mr. Jordan," the receptionist
said smiling. "She is ready for you now, if you would like to step into
the first office on the left." "Thank you", I said, already on my way.
I opened the door to a wall of glass overlooking the city below. There
was a large walnut desk with two large recliner chars sitting in front
and a large president's chair behind it facing the city. A couch and
love-seat sat to the side surrounding an oval shaped glass coffee table
with brass feet. "Good morning Mr. Jordan", said a voice from behind
the desk. Ms. Tanning turned around to me and said "I didn't get a
chance to thank you for the wonderful breakfast this morning."
I did get the job as Administrative Assistant to the President. I was,
like all my friends had told me , a peon again, but I got an office with
a view, a company Jaguar, and even liked the peon little things I
frequently had to do.
??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
? Brought To You By: Head's Up BBS (909) 681-3721 (2400-19200) ?
? ?
? * Over 11,000 GIF Files * Over 2,000 Text Files * ?
? * Original Scans * HOT Message Areas * 7 Day Free Test Drive * ?
? ?
? All Interests: Straight, Oral, Anal, Bi-Sexual, Lesbian, ?
? Gay, Transexual, Bondage, Discipline, ?
? Toys, Odd Things, ORIGINAL SCANS!, MORE!!!! ?
? ?
? Come Join The Best BBS in Southern California! ?
??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
|
|
