
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.







