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THE INTERVIEW

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10-18-2012 Thurs.

Revised: 12-21-2012 Fri.

THE INTERVIEW

You first saw me when your office called me for an interview two weeks after I applied to your firm online and notified me that I first attend a required orientation to learn about your investment company. I?ve never had such a request put forth before an interview, but I figure, it?s your investment firm, your business is successful, so with me wanting this position, I better do as expected. Two days later, when I attended the orientation, I noticed there were only about twenty people there in total, which I found rather unexpected, because I thought there would be many more. Our picture is taken when we arrive and made into name badges to clip on, and we are instructed to sit in the seat that has been designated to us, and to leave a hard copy of our resumes on the tables, which will be collected and read over once more. For the next two hours, members of your board tell us about your firm and the high levels of expectations you have in place should we be hired. Though we never actually see you, four your head board members always make sure to refer to you as ?Mr. Scott?, and they make it obvious that they, as your board members, meet your every demand. One of the things I notice is that all of your board members are impeccably dressed and even though we?re in one of your large conference rooms, that too is impeccable as well.

After the orientation, we are asked to stay for ?socializing? and lunch. This would be most people?s cue to go ahead and leave, but there is something about the way we have been informed about your firm that gives us the sense that leaving would be a big mistake on our part. We are treated to non-alcoholic drinks and appetizers for the first half-hour. That is followed by a gourmet lunch, which consists of a Caesar salad to start, medium-rare filet mignon smothered in sautéed onions and fresh mushrooms with a reduction, a baked potato, asparagus spears, and oven-roasted green beans. What we don?t know is that you have been observing everything in a separate room and you are checking to see who has the intellect and the looks to handle working for you; a sort of audition if you will. After all of us potential (and hopeful) candidates leave, you and your board members start the ?process? of choosing who you feel will be able to meet your expectations. When you come across my resume and my attached picture badge, you discover that I have a Master's Degree, which pleases you because you don?t want just another vocational school dummy working for you. Also, you?ve been wanting someone sharp-minded to be your Executive Assistant and you like the fact that I?ve made the choice to pursue an even higher level of education. You like what you read in my resume, so you had your office make an appointment for me to come in.

The night before I am to come to your office, I get a knock at the door. It's a delivery service with a rather large package that is in a big white box with a large satin bow. Surprised and confused, I take the package and sign for it. I lay it on my bed, remove the bow and lift the top. There is red, white, and black tissue paper, and a card lies on top of that. I take the card and peel back the paper. What's inside knocks the wind out of me. It's a rather short, black dress skirt that has a sizable split up the side, VERY sheer black thigh-high stockings, an off-white silk blouse that is VERY thin and black heels. There is also a lingerie set containing black lace/sheer see-through bikini panties and a THIN black lace bra to match. I open the plain white card, and in someone's handwriting (Yours, but I don't know that), it reads: If you REALLY want the job, then you need to know how to dress for it.

The next morning, with my hands shaking, I get up, get dressed, pour my coffee and head out the door. I park in your underground parking lot, get my portfolio out of my trunk, and ride the elevator to the 15th floor. I get inside the large glass doors of your office and sign in with the gorgeous blonde woman at the front desk. She quietly makes a phone call to you. She offers me to take a seat. After less than five minutes, a buzz rings and your secretary goes to the door to hold it open for me. I nervously walk in and almost stop dead in my tracks.

Your large office is impeccably designed and decorated, but not cold. You're standing next to the window looking over the city with a drink (probably Brandy) in your hand. Your suit is obviously VERY expensive as well as your shoes, and all that you have on is perfectly tailored to your body. You look over to me and smile. Walking towards me, you extend your hand, "I'm Richard Scott. You're Nicole Stanley I presume? Or do you prefer Nikki?" I can barely find the words. "Uh, most call me Nikki, but if you prefer Nicole, that will work too." Your hand is so soft and warm, I don't know how I keep from passing out cold. You motion for me to sit down on one of the plush black leather chairs in front of your glass and black acrylic desk.

You start the general questions, asking me about my educational background and work experience, and why I feel I?d be best for the job. Even though my insides are like Jell-o, and I?m so nervous I can barely think, you are very impressed with what you hear. I can hardly concentrate, yet form a sentence, because I'm watching EVERY smooth move you make: Your mouth, your hands, your lips, your chest... EVERYTHING!!! Soon, I find myself aroused for some unknown reason. I try to hide it, but your piercing, grey eyes seem to see right through my soul. I soon find myself having to squeeze my thighs together tightly as my legs remained crossed. I uncross them and cross my ankles, hoping my rising heat and arousal isn't TOO obvious. You can sense it and you're going to take advantage.

You keep questioning me and as I try to concentrate and answer, you push your chair back some so I see you from the waist down. With that damn sexy smile of yours, you start to run one hand up your leg, making it look casual. But soon, you're up to your crotch. You start running your thumb very lightly along the length of what I am sure is your cock. I can feel myself starting to perspire and I look away and at the floor. My chest is heaving. I'm trying to control my breathing, which is turning into panting, and my nipples are SO hard, I'm afraid they'll rip right through the thin material of the bra and blouse I'm wearing. You keep talking and asking me interview questions as if nothing is going on, which completely floors me. You smile sexily as your thumb continually runs along your shaft, which is slightly starting to rise. In a smooth movement, you suddenly get up to my surprise and stand behind me. Bending at the waist so you're at my neck you hotly whisper in my ear, "I see you wore what I picked out for you. VERY wise choice Miss Stanley."

I look straight ahead, not sure of what to say. Before I know it, you have me leaning on your desk, facing away from you. You're pinned right up against me. I can feel your hot breath on my neck and your stiffening rod against my lower back. Before I can answer, you reach under my skirt and feel my hardened clit, which is straining against the thin panties you chose for me. You sexily reach up my skirt and pull them, letting them fall softly to the floor. Without you even having to tell me, I obediently step out of them. You lean down and slip them in your pocket. In a flash, with one hand you cup my 42DD breast(s) and with the other, your hand is between my legs as you plant your index finger on my bright pink, swollen, aching clit. The lightest touch from you sets my clit and my body on fire. I (accidentally) let out a lustful gasp in response, which is what you wanted. Ashamed at my temporary loss of control?

To be continued...

**WARNING: Any institutions using this site or any of its associated sites for studies or projects - You do NOT have my permission to use any of my profile or pictures in any form or forum both current and future. If you have or do, it will be considered a serious violation of our privacy and will be subject to legal ramifications.**