Interviews always make me nervous. I guess that's true for everybody, but sitting here in this office waiting for my name to be called I really don't care about how anyone else feels about it. I watch the secretary that I am hoping to replace file through paperwork looking tired, weary, and ready to leave. I try to look calm and collected while tensing and relaxing my thighs. I now regret wearing the white knee high stockings because my calves are itchy with a slight veneer of sweat, but they look good with the Mary Jane's that I'm wearing. I suddenly regret the choice of shoes, however, worrying that 3 inch heels may not be professional enough for this office. I take a shaky finger and trace the big, brown flowers on my ankle length black skirt.
"Jessica, Mr. Richards will see you now," the secretary announces in a perky voice, startling me. I stand, adjust my white button-down top, and take a deep breath as I walk towards the giant, menacing door. I suddenly think that maybe I should take down my hair. I once knew a guy who found it very sexy when I put my hair up in a sloppy bun with a clip, but I wonder if this makes me look a little too severe. I start moving my hand up to my hair as the giant door suddenly swings open. I whip my hand back down to my side as I stare right into a pair of beautiful, deep blue eyes.
"Hello. Come on in. I'm sorry I had you waiting out there so long. I know that can only make you more nervous," he laughs as he says this, displaying a comforting, somewhat goofy smile as his eyes twinkle with a curious delight. I eye the black suit he's wearing. With a white shirt and a red tie, he sports a simple power look. I slide into the office in the small space he leaves between himself and the door jam and take notice of his towering height (of course, at 5' 3" everyone towers above me), and his broad shoulders. Something inside of me wants to poke the slight softness of his stomach that comes with men his age.
"Have a seat, Ms. Oppenheimer. Is that right?" he asks as he flashes his gracious smile at me once again. I'm lost in a segment of fantasy, imagining running my fingers through his thick, dark brunet hair as his head hovers between my quivering thighs.
"Um...eh...yeah. Oppenheimer, that's right. Please, call me Jessica...if you like," I can feel my cheeks heat up with a blush as my response stumbles out of my mouth. He walks behind his desk and takes a seat, the power seat. He takes my application out of his desk drawer setting it on the desk as I take notice of his large, work-roughened hands. I start tensing and relaxing my thighs again, but this time for a different reason.
"Now, tell me about your job history. It says here your last job was at a car dealership?" he questions me so professionally. I try to steady my voice and concentrate as I describe my past duties, but I can still feel the heat in the flush of my cheeks and it makes me even more nervous. I'm suddenly aware of the roundness of my perky, young breasts underneath my conservative top. I can feel the hardening of my nipples as I watch his long, rough fingers toy with my application.
"Excuse me, I just made a fresh batch of coffee. Does anybody want some?" the damn perky secretary interrupts my inner fantasy and my outer qualification description. I figure that something to hold would probably calm me a little bit.
"Sure. Can you just make mine black?" I respond, almost sharply.
"Can you put a little cream in mine? Thank you," he answers in his smooth, rich voice.
The secretary pops out, and I turn back to him to find him staring intently at me.
"I...uh...," I stumble yet again. By this point, I'm sure he thinks I must have a speech impediment.
"Um...you were describing your past work experience," he reminds me as he snaps out of some secret thought. I continue speaking, as I wonder if he finds me attractive. I start doing all the little unconscious flirtatious movements that women do. I motion to my breasts as I speak, rub my thigh, and start slowly twirling my foot. The secretary pops back into the office with the coffee, and leaves hurriedly to answer the ringing phone. I start to take a sip, but I notice the light color of my coffee.
"I'm sorry, I believe she gave me yours," I tell him as I stand up to give it to him.
"Ah, so she did," he says as he also stands. Surprised by his rising, I drop the coffee mug on the desk, soaking my application and splashing his pants.
"Oh my god, I am sorry!" I exclaim as I feel my possible position here slipping away from me. I grab some paper towels that are sitting on a side table and run over to him trying to pat his pants dry.
"It's alright," he laughs as he looks down at me on my knees pawing at his crotch.
"Oh...I'm sorry...uh...here," I say nervously as I hand him the towels, blushing an even deeper shade of red.
"Well, it's quite alright," he whispers as he smiles down at me. However, this time it's a different smile. A flirtatious, inviting smile. He reaches out his hand to help me up to my feet. I take it, and start to stand as I trip and fall against him. I push him down into his seat and fall on top of him. He laughs as I struggle to get up, and I notice the hardness in his crotch.
"You know Jessica," he whispers into my ear as he pulls me toward him, "You're very cute, especially when you're blushing." My breath catches in my throat as I realize I didn't imagine the flirtation in his voice. My shock is obviously apparent on my face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he mumbles nervously.