“Come on in,…Mrs…Lee, is it?”

The young head of HR was seated on a sofa. He pointedly did not offer her a seat.

“Yes sir…Alexandria Lee.”

He looked at her appraisingly, his eyes roaming over her body. He licked his lips. “pretty name,” he said. “Mrs. Alexandria Lee… You’re married, I take it?”

“Thank you, sir, and yes, I am married.”

“Tell me what, did your husband think when you told him that you had a job interview in an airport hotel room?” he asked with a somewhat wolfish smile.

“He wished me luck. He said, ‘whatever it takes, babe…’”

“Really. Now that IS interesting. ‘Whatever it takes…’ You know that you are older than any of the other applicants that I have seen today. And you are my last appointment…Just what do you think ‘whatever it takes’ might mean?”

“I think that it is self-explanatory, sir. When I used to work as a drug rep, sometimes I found it useful to color a bit outside the box…To go the extra mile. I had the highest sales rate in my division.”

“Really? Give me an example of the sort of extra mile that used to go…”

“Well, in this very hotel, five years ago I met a Doctor who should have been using our devices. I discovered that he had a certain, …interest, proclivity, that I was able to exploit. Room 308, if I recall. Right by the elevator. School girls were his thing. If I wore the plaid skirt and knee highs…that was all he could see. He would have signed anything…”

“Hmm. Now we are getting somewhere…tell me did you dress with any special consideration today?”

“Yes sir,” she replied softly, looking down at her shoes.

“If I demanded that you hand me your panties would you comply?”

“No sir. I wouldn’t be able to do that, sir.”

“Oh, so, you would don a plaid skirt to sell a few heart valves, but you won’t give up your panties to gain a job…”

“I can’t because I am not wearing any, sir.”

“Commando? You came to a job interview commando? Oh, you’re wearing pantie hose, is that it?”

“No sir. Thigh highs. I just feel more comfortable in thigh highs. And I didn’t want any panty lines with this skirt.”

“Turn around, let me see. Lift up your jacket… Yessss, I see what you mean…No lines. No stay that way. I like this view. Why don’t you take off that jacket, now.”

She complied, unbuttoning the three buttons of her blazer. When she slipped the jacket off of her shoulders, she heard a sharp intake of breath, as he realized that she was wearing only a bra underneath it.

“Take two steps back, then bend forward.”

She did, balancing on her high heels, the heels practically touching the sofa.

“Pull your skirt up higher…higher. I want to see the tops of your stockings…”

She did as she was bid, knowing that now his nose would be mere inches from her naked sex.

She did not flinch when she felt his hands sliding up the sides of her thighs, his thumbs riding up on the inside until they were resting lightly on her labia.

“You are shaved. Did you do that for this interview, Alexandria? Did you shave your pussy, and leave off your panties and your blouse today for this interview? Are you such a slut that you would do that to get a job?” As he interrogated her, he was sliding his thumb up and down her slick slit.

“Whatever it takes, sir.”

“And your husband? Did he know what you WEREN’T wearing to this interview, slut?

“Yesssss. Yes, sir. He picked out my outfit.”

“Turnaround, slut, I want to see what else you have to offer.”

“Just these, sir,” Alexandria said, cupping her breasts where they were straining out of her half bra.

“Oh God,” he moaned, his eyes locked on her full breasts, the nipples painfully erect… “This was what I was looking for in my personal assistant…But, I don’t know, maybe you are just a pretty package…I need someone with particular skills as well…,” he leered meaningfully.

“Oh, I don’t think you need worry about a lack of skill,” Alexandria said, licking her lips and kneeling between his legs.

With infinite delicacy, she unzipped his fly pushing him back into the couch. Never breaking eye contact, she leaned in carefully dabbed the turgid head with the slightest stroke of her tongue. Teasing him, with the slightest flicks of her tongue, he moaned.

She allowed the whole head into her warm mouth, applying just the slightest suction.

He bucked, strained to raise his hips, to force more of himself down her throat.

“Not yet, cowboy. Open your briefcase and take out the contract.”

“Later,” he moaned.

“Now. Or I’m gone.”

Hastily he pulled out the sheaf of papers, separating the offer of employment. Clumsily he signed.

“Date it…” She filled in the annual salary part at the maximum amount offered, crossed out 40 hours per week and had him intital 32 hours per week. She signed. Pulled her Android from the pocket of her jacket, scanned and sent copies of the document to herself.

“Ok, the nurse will see you now…” she said mockingly.

June 2018
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