Human Resources: The Intern, Part 1
I was twenty when I got my first real job. I was going to the local college for an Information Technology degree and they had a work-study program where you worked for a semester and then studied for a semester, trading off between the two for the last two years of your undergraduate degree. While it extended my undergraduate degree to five years instead of four, it would give me some good, real-world experience for my resume and, possibly, give me a job right out of school.
The school set up interviews with a variety of companies within the vicinity of the college and even large employers in other states. I was lucky enough to get into one in another state. That way I could get away from my parents and the school, at least for a few months at a time. I interviewed at a PR Firm located in New York. It seemed like an incredible opportunity for me, working in a fairly busy office, doing a job I love... and, the best perk of all in this case, working in an office with a lot of beautiful, successful women.
I hadn't had much luck or experience with women, only having one girlfriend in my life. Even that was a few years ago. So working in a female rich environment was bound to be good for my social life. Incredibly, this particular firm was woman-owned and run almost exclusively by women. I only hoped they would hire a male intern.
The interview was held at the university and, when I arrived at the room they'd set up, I met Nicole Patterson, the firm's HR director. She was holding all of the interviews. She was an older woman, probably in her fifties, but was still really beautiful with short-cropped blond hair and a sizable... noticeable... D-cup breasts. They might have even been DD-cup. All I knew was that they were big and truly captured my attention.
I felt like a ten year old when I saw her. She seemed so much more mature and in charge.
She gave me a quick handshake and invited me to sit down. She sat back on the edge of the desk they'd provided and put her hands behind her on the desktop. I couldn't help but notice her incredible legs encased in hose underneath the short skirt she wore, and her breasts straining at the buttons of her blouse that was pulled tight from the position of her arms. I could see her pointed nipples pressing against the thin material.
She asked me several questions, which I answered without really even thinking. My head seemed lost in seeing her. I was so shy and embarrassed that I was thinking such thoughts. I felt my cock harden and had to move in my seat to get it into a comfortable position. When I looked up again, she was smiling a little deviously, as if knowing I was having problems and was reveling in causing it. But I figured it was just my overactive imagination.
She slid her suit jacket off revealing her sleeveless blouse. As she slid it off her arms, her chest was pushed forward, pressing hard against the buttons. It almost strained them to their limit and I had the fantasy of them popping off, flying across the room, as her breasts were exposed. She tossed her jacket onto another chair and then sat up on the edge of the desk, her skirt riding up a little bit. One shoe slid partly off her foot and she swung it absently, making it hard not to pay attention to her hose-encased legs.
As she asked questions, her legs would part, offering me a glimpse between them, before crossing again on the other side. Although I really saw nothing, the movement itself was incredibly sexy and alluring, capturing my eyes. I couldn't help but look.
When the interview was over, I stood and shook her hand, noting how a few buttons on her blouse were undone such that I could see the frilly, lace bra underneath. I almost thought I saw the edge of her nipple before I diverted my glance so I wouldn't be caught.
I walked out, happy to have met her, but unsure if I had the job or not.
*****
A month after the interview, I was sent an offer letter from the firm. They wanted to hire me as an intern! I was incredibly happy and couldn't wait to tell my family. I was going to start in the spring semester.
Over the course of the next month, I received a few more letters from Nicole, making sure I filled out all the necessary paperwork and that I had a drug test done. I had to have everything ready and complete for my January 10th start date.
I was so excited that I got the job and spent the month of December getting everything in order. I left just after New Years, driving up there in an old clunker my parents bought for me. I figured that maybe with the money I'd be making that I'd be able to buy myself a new car.
I received a letter a week ago telling me that due to renovations in the intern dorms that for the first month or so I'd be staying at the home of Sheila Jackson, the firm's IT Director. She normally rented out the basement area, but she didn't have a tenant at the moment, so this would be the perfect opportunity. It mentioned that the room was free as well, but I'd have to pay for my own food.
I arrived at Sheila's house on Saturday, January 8th, at 7:00pm. She completely surprised me by answering the door in shorts and a t-shirt, even in this cold weather.
"Hi! You must be Michael," she said, smiling brightly. She was an older woman, like Nicole, with medium-length brown hair. And, like Nicole, she had some very impressive breasts. Definitely a D-cup, held back by God-knows-what underneath that t-shirt.
"Yes I am. I'm glad to meet you," I said. "Are you Sheila?"
"Yes, but please call me Mrs. Jackson. Come in for a second and let me show you where you'll be staying. Then we can get your stuff out of the car."
I entered the warm, brightly lit house, and Sheila, well, Mrs. Jackson, showed me the basement apartment, which had a bedroom, a nice sitting area, and its own bathroom with shower. It looked like a great place to me... much better than my dorm room!
Surprisingly, even in her warm-weather clothing, she helped me carry my stuff inside and into the basement. She told me that I was allowed to use her kitchen area as I needed. But, she said I couldn't have a key to her house and would therefore be required to have a curfew every night or be locked out. She said that it was only temporary, that the dorms would be ready in just a few weeks, and didn't want her keys to get lost or stolen.
I figured I could live without any night life for a few weeks so I agreed. She turned to go up the stairs and then turned around suggesting I take a shower now that I had arrived. She said there were clean towels in the bathroom. She had a devious look on her face, like she was up to something, but I was too naive to figure it out.
I threw my stuff aside, stripped off my clothes, and hopped into the shower. I soaped myself up and couldn't believe how good the suds felt on my body. It had been a long drive and after seeing Mrs. Jackson in her short shorts and tight t-shirt, I was horny as hell. My hand easily found it's way to my cock and began stroking it. And did it ever feel good! I leaned up against the shower wall and just let my body go. I came very quickly and let out a torrent of cum that sprayed against the wall, my grunts echoing off the tile wall.
When I was done, I cleaned up my mess, slipped on some boxers and slid into bed. I watched TV until it was late.
Mrs. Jackson knocked on the door at about midnight, checking to see if I was alright. She was wearing a short robe, so I knew she was getting ready for bed. She was certainly a knock out in that outfit. I could feel my cock spring to life once more when I saw her and had to lift my knees up to keep it from becoming noticeable to her, even under the covers.
I told her I was fine and didn't need anything and she stood there an extra moment, as if wanting something, but then simply told me to sleep well and went back upstairs.
The next morning, I knew it was going to be a long few weeks before I moved out. I woke early, took a shower, and then came upstairs wearing sweats and a t-shirt, my typical Sunday morning attire. Mrs. Jackson was in the kitchen making some breakfast, wearing her short robe again. I couldn't believe how little it hid. And I could tell that she was wearing little to nothing underneath her robe. I was so embarrassed to be in the same room with her because she turned me on so much. I was sure I was flushed thirty-two shades of red. I never knew a woman could look so sensual.
"So, what are you up to today?" Mrs. Jackson asked, holding a spatula. She was making some scrambled eggs for herself.
"I thought I drive around a little, get the lay of the land. Maybe buy some groceries."
"There's a good grocery store just up the street... maybe three miles," she said.
I nodded. "Sounds good."
I threw a sweatshirt on over my t-shirt and drove around a little, getting the lay of the land. I found the grocery store she was talking about and bought some things I'd need for the week and found a fast-food place to get some breakfast.
*****
I got up early on Monday in order to be at work well ahead of schedule. Mrs. Jackson was still getting ready when I walked out to my car, trudging through the snow, and found that it wouldn't start. The engine seemed to be seized up somehow. I sat in my car cursing, trying and retrying to start it, when Mrs. Jackson walked out of the house. She looked over at me, surprised to see me so distressed, and offered me to ride in with her.
