Carlos blew a raspberry into the wind and tossed the newspaper over his shoulder like an annoyed child. Alright, I really gotta show up for this one. This is the only place left hiring in this hick town. He was so eager to come to the place and grab the job that he ran straight there from working out. The thought hadn't even occurred to him to change into something more formal for a job interview until it was too late. He looked down at his long-sleeve compression shirt for training, a pair of absurdly short gray sweat shorts, and some vans with long socks. Carlos discreetly sniffed his pits, and the sharp, musky scent stung his nostrils.
Carlos considered turning around and going home and changing, but this was his last chance, and he didn't want to lose it. He saw the "Help Wanted" sign hanging in the window. Who knows if he turned around and came back if it would still be there? In a small town like this, the few summer jobs get snatched up almost immediately, leaving the remaining teens to be bored and penniless all summer long.
Of course, it's not like he WANTED to work in a bakery. He peered inside the glass doors. The insides looked pretty nice, he guessed. It was mostly white, pastel colors. Nothing too girly or whatever. White tables with chairs stacked on top. The glass display case near the front was mostly empty, but had a couple of decadent-looking cakes. The place seemed like a completely normal bakery, except for the one thing...
What kind of name is 'Donkey Cakes', anyways? Carlos looked up at the sign over the front doors. The sign was pink, with a caricature-like picture of a donkey exaggeratedly licking his lips over a strangely round-looking cupcake. Why a donkey? Do donkeys really like cupcakes or something? Carlos wasn't the brightest bulb, but even he was a bit confused. Well, more than he normally was. Carlos shrugged off his confusion, and brought his fist up to the glass door.
Stanley was in the back, getting everything ready for the big grand opening. The only problem was, he didn't have any staff yet. True, several people did apply, but he wasn't interested in working with any giggling teenage girls or bored, nosy housewives. Although it was a long shot, Stanley wished he could have had some eye candy to make his days go by easier. If only a hunky, big-booty jock could show up at his door... When he peeked out to see who was knocking, he had to wonder if someone out there truly was answering his prayers.
Okay Stanley, play it cool. He wasn't the hot stud he used to be in his prime. Now pushing 40, the stress from running his own business and simply the love of his own pastries didn't do much for his physique. He hadn't had time to shave or take care of himself in the rush to open the new bakery, so he was a bit scruffy. Still, Stanley found himself sucking in his gut somewhat as he opened the front door.
"Sorry, we're not open yet-" HOLY SHIT.
Stanley's jaw dropped and the air was knocked out due to the sight in front of him. Carlos had his back turned to the door, with his face buried in his phone. He didn't even notice that Stanley was there at first, giving the older man ample time to take in the young teen jock specimen that stood before him. The kid looked latino, with dark, curly hair cropped short, and a stocky, broad build. The kid's ass was like a work of art, two huge, round globes, with cheeks nearly the size of a soccer ball, the grey sweat shorts riding up a bit and clinging deep into the cleft of his ass. Carlos finally sensed the eyes lingering on his body, and turned around to face man, giving him an opportunity to take in the teen's frontside. The tight compression shirt he was wearing seemed to lift and separate his ample pecs, which made them look like two enormous muscletits that jutted out significantly from his toned torso. Stanley couldn't help but think those were the kind of tits that made flat chested girls jealous.
"Uh... no sir. No offense but I can't eat sweets until the end of the football season anyway. Who do I gotta talk to if I'm tryna work here?" Carlos spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Stanley realized he had been staring a little bit too long, and wondered if the kid had picked up on his semi-hard chubby and the lust-filled gaze. He seemed to look confused, rather than creeped out, so Stanley figured he was still in the clear. The kid must have either zero preservation instinct or ridiculously ignorant self-confidence.
Stanley brought himself back to reality, swallowed his drooling tongue, and tried to will his stiffening cock down to regain his composure. "That'd be me. I'm Stanley, the owner and head baker. You're just in luck, I'm still looking for an assistant. Please, come in." Stanley held the door open and gestured the jock to step inside. He took another moment to admire the shifting, bouncing cheeks of the toned ass with each step. Damn, I can't believe how much it jiggles when he's just walking. Stanley knew one thing was true: He was going to do everything in his power to get his face between those cheeks.
"So, what's your name, kid? Why do you wanna work here?"
Fuck yeah, the spot was still available! Despite his excitement, Carlos's face remained stoic and disinterested. He walked past Stanley with a spring in his step... hardly aware of how the tight grey shorts rode up the crack of his ass and the heavy bouncing of his cheeks with every step looked so obscene. The inside of the bakery was cool, and Carlos stretched in the chilly air, his back muscles hugged tight by the thin fabric of his shirt. It felt great on his skin after a sweaty workout, though he was unaware his nipples were also reacting to the sudden change in temperature, poking right through the paper-thin material. Carlos turned around and almost stumbled as he reached out to give Stanley a firm handshake, making his tits, ass and thighs actually jiggle with the abrupt jerk. "I'm Carlos, sir. I'm in high school and honestly... I really want a summer job. I need some regular cash to buy cigs and stuff like that. My bike needs a new chain too.
Stanley chuckled to himself at the kid's candor. The kid was lucky he was so hot; if Stanley were not such a patient and... accommodating man, he would have failed the job interview right off the bat. Stanley gripped the kid's hand and gave it an extra-rough shake, just enough to make those tits bounce again. Stanley couldn't help but scan his eyes over the kid's muscles again, particularly making note of the pointed nubs poking out from his short. He was already devouring this kid with his eyes, and yet the jock stud seemed to remain completely oblivious, confirming his suspicious that the kid was likely dumb as rocks. "Tell me, Carlos, do you have any experience baking or serving customers?
Carlos stood, obviously clueless and off-guard with the question, like a deer in headlights. He slowly put his hands behind his back and averted Stanley's gaze. "Uh, yeah for sure." He lied, "I'm kinda rusty with the baking but like... I can serve whatever." Can't be too fucking hard, he thought to himself. Despite being 18, Carlos had never had a part-time job before. He was always too busy with sports.
The teen's bluff was obvious, but everything was still going according to plan. "Great, let me tell you a little bit about my shop here. I'd like to see if you're a good fit. At Donkey Cakes, the most important rule is service. I want each and every customer to leave these doors completely and fully satisfied. Whether they are looking for one of our dense and decadent dark chocolate cakes, our bouncy, jiggly cheesecakes, or one of our creamy, rich puff pastries. Every customer should always be given exactly what they want, what they need." Stanley spoke those words like they were the nastiest, most pornographic sentences in the English language, every syllable positively dripping with innuendo and lust. He wondered just how far he could push this, how dense this kid could possibly be, or if he was just playing along. "How does that sound to you Carlos? Do you think you can perform to that level of... service?"
Carlos's eyes glazed back a bit during the whole speech. His eyes had wandered and he was trying to take discreet peaks of his phone in his pocket. This was obviously one of those bullshit rara talks about a business's motto or whatever the fuck and Carlos was already tuned out as soon as the guy started in about cakes or service or whatever. Fuck it, he would just say he could do whatever the guy asked and he'd get the job, how hard could it be?
Carlos's phone buzzed with a text. "Uh, just a sec..." he muttered, reaching in his pocket to pull out his phone. His biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirt, and his shorts were so tight that he had to really dig into his pocket to pull out the phone. He wiggled his hips a little to help him jostle it out, which only caused his shorts to ride up and pinch his crotch. Even from the front, it was impossible for Stanley to ignore the kid's enormous tree-trunk thighs and the boy's cheeks jerking side to side as the teen hunk adjusted himself. After answering his text, he finally put his phone away and realized the older man was waiting for his reply. "Uh, I don't think it'll be too hard, you can count on me, boss-man."