This is a work of fiction. Any correlation to real people alive or dead is purely happenstance. I hope you enjoy it. It has a familiar theme for my writing, older dominant women and a young male.
*****
I was excited to get up that morning, my first day at work for my new boss. I had applied for many positions since leaving State, but this was the first one that had hired me. Here I was a 22 year old average white American male, with a degree in Sociology. Basically a non-commodity, I was thankful for an opportunity. Student loans had vastly caused a proliferation of the number of college graduates. I was also a very shy person and was not great at interviews. Ms. Langford had been one of the few who actually gave me an interview.
I had been planning to get my masters and teach, but I was unable to fund my graduate studies. The student grant I had to supplement my undergrad education was not available to help me with Graduate school. My parents were of fairly moderate means and not able to help with the expenses. Student loans were another avenue that was much harder to for me obtain, due to many people never repaying the system, so here I was trying to enter the working world. Another very pressing issue was rent for my apartment was overdue and my former roommates had gone home for summer leaving me holding the bag. I was just waiting to be evicted if I went another month behind. I had worked at college bookstore but that was only available for students. This was the first job I had ever had outside of academia.
I had put on my best and only suit and rode the bus. I did not own a car. The campus had been very bicycle friendly and I had no need for a car. I walked from the bus to the building. My mind flashed back to the interview...
Ms. Langford had been sitting behind her desk. Her smile had seemed both welcoming and stern. She was a lovely looking woman. I had approached her desk with my hand outstretched to shake her hand. I was making an effort to smile; I hoped it did not look dis-ingenious. She stood up and took my hand. I shook her hand slightly firm and she had a firm hand. She was dressed crisply in a business suit not a wrinkle on her clothes or flaw in her makeup. She was very attractive and the combination of her good looks and forceful presence were intimidating. I started to sweat nervously. Her top three buttons of her blouse were undone. She motioned for me to sit down.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello, Daniel. Why do you want to work for me," She had asked
. She was all business it seemed. No chatter straight to the point. I needed funds to continue my education.
"I need an opportunity," I said.
I am really selling myself
I thought sarcastically. I felt a little out of sorts in my suit. I had bought this suit second hand and although it fit well and was expensively made it was a little dated in its cut. I never wore such fancy dress to school. I felt and probably looked awkward.
"Why should I hire you?" she asked. My eyes unwittingly wandered down to her ample bosom and she noticed my wayward gaze, yet she did not say anything.
I was totally blowing it
.
"I am a hard worker and I am very teachable," I said.
So is the average dog
what am I saying. My eyes gravitating to her breasts again, I quickly looked back at her face and her misty blue eyes. She noticed my ocular indiscretion however. I was fascinated by all breasts, but big breasts like hers were even more fascinating.
"Do you even know what the position is?" she asked. My mind was blank; I could not remember the exact job title. In my defense I had sent out hundreds of résumés. She smiled and waited for me to respond.
Think idiot I said to myself; don't let her amazing breasts distract you out of a job.
"The job title is Research Assistant?" I asked rather than stated. She smiled again. She leaned forward in her chair to reach for her cup and I could not control my eyes once more.
"Close, the Job is Associate Research Assistant," she corrected me.
That's it she won't hire me.
"Sorry I applied to a number of firms," I said making an excuse.
"Excuses are unacceptable, if you want to work here," she said. Her beautiful face had become quite stern. Her hair was short and most likely dyed brown. She was probably just under 45 years old and still quite sexy. Truth was I had a thing for older women.
"I am sorry," I said. She smiled slyly.
"I expect you to do what I say without question, if you work here," she said.
"I will definitely do that," I said.
She leaned forward to put her cup down and I could see the top of her creamy breasts. She leaned even lower and I could see her black lace bra top. She looked up and smiled.
Damn she caught me again.
I looked up into her eyes, instead of continuing to look down her blouse. She bent over even more to take some papers off the far corner of her desk. My eyes raced down to see if I could see any more of her big breasts. She coughed and shook her head. I lowered my eyes to the floor, I felt quite ashamed. My suit pants were becoming real tight over my growing erection.
I hope she does not see my woody
I thought. She handed the stack of papers to me and I looked up to receive it from her. When I looked up she had another button undone and her bra was even more visible. I could not contain my fascination and my eyes were staring. Did the fourth button come undone without her notice? She smiled as she looked at my tented slacks.
"I need you take this test, if you score 80 percent or higher I might hire you. You can take the test in the cubicle in the first room down the hall to the right. You have 45 minutes to complete it. Leave your phone here with me," She said.
I stood up left her office and walked down the hall. I went in to the room and sat at the cubicle. There was a pencil and some scratch paper waiting for me. The cubicle was equipped with a phone. I set to work straight away. It was like a short civil service exam. It was quite difficult. Some spatial relation ones had figures laid flat that you would be asked to say what they would look like reassembled. Some were just math or algebra. There were a few word definition questions. Several questions had me stumped. Most of the test was multiple choices. There were three short essay questions as well. I did not have my phone so I had no way to keep track of time. I worked as fast I could, the phone rang and I answered it. I had just finished the last question.
"Hello," I said.
"This is Bea Langford, your time is up. Bring in your test," she said
"Okay I will bring it right in," I said. I stood up and walked back into her office. She had not buttoned her blouse in fact five button were now undone. The top of her bra was in view. My cock was erect again. I brought the test to her.
"Come around the desk so you can watch me score it," she said. I came around the desk and handed her my test. She pulled out the key and started to grade it.
"You must get 26 out of 32 right and average 10 points an essay to pass muster," she said.
I looked down her blouse hoping to see her nipples. She quickly found two wrong, followed by two more. She went to the next page and found 3 more incorrect. That put me under 80 percent on the multiple choice questions. She graded the essays and she gave the first one a 9 and the last two both 8s.
I had failed to get 80 percent that only added up to 75 percent.
"You came up 5 percent under," she said
"Is there any way you can make an exception for me?" I asked.
"There might be a way, but first let's see how fast you really type," she said.
She got up from her desk and stood up. She had me sit down and she set up a typing tutor program.
"Your résumé says you type 85 words a minute. Since this is easily tested, I will use it to see how truthful you were in your résumé," she said.
I had lied on that fact, I can't type nearly that fast.
I started the warm up games. When she felt I had done this enough she had me begin the test. I typed as fast as I could, but could only get 50 words per minute. She had me try several times, but my fastest was still only 50 words per minute.
"You obviously lied on your résumé," Beatrice Langford said. The more stern she was with me the more aroused I was becoming.
"I am sorry, I thought it was the way you were supposed to write them," I said.
"As a penalty, if you want to continue the interview, you must remove one piece of clothing for every 5 words you are under your claim. A pair socks and pair shoes are only considered one item each. Lying to me always has consequences," she said.
"I want to continue," I volunteered before she asked me.