I was sitting in the waiting room with about twelve other applicants. The agency said there would be competition, but I never expected this much. I had arrived just after lunch and I was the next to be called in for my interview.
When the receptionist nodded to me and said, "Becky, your next," I stood as she opened the door to the office. He stood and motioned to a chair at the side of his desk. I sat down and demurely crossed my legs. I had deliberately dressed down. I mean more appropriately for a business interview than I normally would dress, more casually.
For a moment he went over my resume and while he read, I had an opportunity to do my own evaluation. Perhaps thirty. Not much more I would guess. Good looking. Maybe too good looking. Tall, handsome, athletic, with a quiet sort of masculinity that most men lack.
I wanted the job desperately and as he began to ask about my experience, I realized exactly how weak I was in some areas and had to admit it. He smiled and just seemed to skim over my shortcomings. He was actually making me feel very at ease.
All the other interviews I had been on were conducted by men or women I felt very uncomfortable with, but he was different. Not exactly fatherly, but sort of understanding, almost as if he were deciding if I were worth hiring with out having the best resume possible.
Another thing about him. He was exciting me. I don't know why, maybe the way he moved, or his aftershave lotion, sort of like when you see some good looking guy in a movie and can't get him out of your mind. I really don't know what it was, but I was actually responding sexually to being near him.
At the end of the interview I expected the usual, "don't call us, we'll call you" dismissal, but no. He got up and walked around the desk and taking my arm led me to the door. I was terrified. Turning he smiled and sort of whispered to me. You're coming back tomorrow. I have more to interview, but you're definitely in contention.
I was floating. I took my cell phone off vibrate, and called Marcy, my best friend and roommate to tell her about the interview. At that point all I could really tell was that the guy who interviewed me was so damn sexy that I thought I'd die if I didn't get the job.
Then it dawned on me. What if the administrative assistant job was for someone else? Like a nasty old guy or woman. I needed a job yeah, and one that paid well but for a person I could feel comfortable with.
That night, my fantasy was him. And lying in my bed with my eyes closed, I almost set a record for cumming. Six times. Actually I think I could have gone on and on but I had no spare batteries and my hand got tired.
I should explain, my clitoris is very sensitive and except for four or five days a month, I can't wear panties. The friction would drive me insane. So anyway I masturbated again and again and dreamed up names for him. Actually he had never introduced himself to me; I only knew he was Mr.Tarker.
The next morning at ten I was in the office again. The lady sitting at the desk across the room was reading something. I was edgy so I started a conversation.
"Er. Miss, is the gentleman interviewing us one of the officers here?"
"Mr. Tarker? He's the president and owner. His first name is Brad. But I wouldn't use it unless he sort of tells you that you can. I think he's interviewing for an administrative assistant. Someone to take the load off his shoulders, so to speak."
There was a long pause and I started again.
"Is he...you know, difficult to work with?"
She smiled and looked a sympathetic. Then she answered.
"Honey, he's every girls dream but ever since his wife died seven months ago he's been sort of aloof. Ya know. Every woman in the typing pool and all the others, even the visitors who come in on business, have been throwing themselves at him"......... She paused and continued.
"Even me and I'm married. He was devastated when she died. For almost two months all he did was come in and sign what ever papers he absolutely had to, then leave. He didn't want all the predators hounding him. Or maybe he just isn't interested."
"Was he married long?" I asked.
"No actually only about eight months. His wife was pregnant when it happened, the airplane crash, I mean. But even before he got married he had a stable of women clamoring over him. He's just that kind of guy, ya know, cool and laid back, sort of shy in a boyish way. Not very aggressive, though I've heard he used to be something special in the love making department if you know what I mean."
I sat quietly, not wanting to push it too much. Something on her desk beeped and she stood up.
"He's ready for you, Miss Radner."
"Go right in. And good luck."
This time she just nodded to the door. She didn't get up or open it. But she did turn and whisper. "Good Luck Becky. I hope it's you."
This time when I went in, he wasn't behind the desk. He had his back to the door and was looking down at something in the park across the street.
I moved to his side and looked down. He was watching some children playing on the swing sets across the way. I couldn't read his mind but suddenly I felt very close to him and sort of sorry.
Turning he asked me to sit down. Then he took his seat and swiveled towards me.
"Becky, this job isn't terribly difficult but it does require a fair amount of intuitive decision making. You know sensing what has to be done and reading what a client wants without them knowing themselves. You seem to be able to...well look at a situation and understand what needs to be done. Last night I reread all of the resumes and I made my choice. If you still want the job it's yours."
Oh my god... I fought the urge to jump up and throw my arms around him. Staying as calm as I could, I managed the expected, "Thank you, and you won't be sorry", crap and satl back down in my seat.
I was in the clouds and really only got bits and pieces of what he was saying from that point on. Something about being back at nine in the morning, and about him explaining something. Not a hell of a lot more.
