"Ms. Marion, Mr. Johnson is here to see you about the job opening." My assistant poked her head in my office door, the nice-looking young man behind her.
"Good. Bring him in, please." I stood to greet him as she escorted him into my spacious office. "Have a seat." I pointed to the chair in front of my desk.
He sat down, sitting nervously on the edge of the chair. I nodded at my assistant, who took the cue to leave the room, closing the door behind her.
I smiled at Mr. Johnson warmly, which seemed to relax him. Slightly. He smiled back at me, his nerves still evident in his smile and steel-grey eyes. His strong jawline added the masculine look to his cute, youthful face. His long, blonde hair was just begging to be tousled. He was sharply dressed in a pinstriped, charcoal gray suit, crisp white dress shirt, and bright red tie. I chuckled to myself that it might have been the first quality suit in his wardrobe. He really was quite cute.
"Please, take off your coat and tie," I instructed. "Relax."
"If you don't mind," he answered politely. He stood and took off his coat and hung it carefully over the back of the chair next to the one he had been sitting in. He was just as careful with his silk tie.
I sat at the edge of my large, executive chair, leaning forward with my arms crossed on my desk. "That's a really nice shirt. But, you really don't need that, either."
He was still smiling but his eyes conveyed his confusion. Nevertheless, he quickly unbuttoning his shirt and peeled it off. He never took his eyes away from mine.
Beneath his neatly pressed dress shirt was a simple white tee that clung tightly to his upper body. His biceps filled the sleeves. The white cotton hugged his chest, revealing the outlines of well-defined pecs, with his man-nipples pressing against the cotton fabric.
Not sure what to do next, he just stood in place, looking at me awaiting further instructions.
After an intentionally long pause, I finally spoke. "That is a very nice suit you were wearing. But, at this point, I don't see any need for your pants."
"You, um, you want me to, um, take them off?" His hand rested on his belt buckle, waiting to make sure he understood me.
"Yes. I do. I want you to take off your pants." I was looking just below his belt buckle at the bump that was beginning to grow.
"Alright. If that's what you want." He had his belt undone before it dawned on him he needed to remove his shoes before he could remove his pants. With an embarrassed smile and chuckle, he sat down and quickly untied his wingtips and slipped them off.
The impediment of the shoes out of the way, he stood again. Watching me closely to make sure I wasn't kidding or hadn't changed my mind, he unsnapped and unzipped his pants. Holding them by the waist, he paused and looked at me, giving me one last opportunity to say, "Just kidding" or "What the hell are you doing?" I said nothing. I smiled at him and nodded towards his pants. My eyes left his and stared directly at the top of his pants. I felt my tongue involuntarily part my lips quickly.
He took a deep breath and opened his pants the rest of the way and slid them down his legs. He gracefully stepped out and then laid them very gently on the chair where his suit coat was. He sure treated that suit like it was his first expensive suit.
That left him standing there in his tight white T-shirt, tight white bikini briefs, and black socks. "The socks. They need to go." I hate socks on a naked or nearly naked man.
"Ha, yeah, kinda silly. aren't they?" he chuckled, realizing he should have known to take them off. He quickly had them off.