I picked up the phone. "Next," I said to Lola on the other end and then laid back.
A minute later Lola opened my office door and showed in the next applicant. "Shawn, this is Kyle Marlin. He's here for his 3.30 interview," she said in her professional secretary voice.
Once Kyle was inside my office Lola disappeared, closing the door smartly behind her. She had barely looked at me. Kyle, on the other hand, just stood there looking at me.
I slapped the sofa cushion next to me.
"Come, sit here, Kyle," I said in a friendly voice and smiled at Kyle, who seemed paralyzed. I slapped the cushion again.
'Uh. Uh, I . . . I'm here for . . . for an interview—the job. Uh . . ."
"That's right, Kyle. No need to be shy. From your application we feel you have the right qualifications for the position we are filling. It was a big field and a tough choice, but you made it this far. Now we need to determine, in person, how suitable you really are. If you do well here today we will put you on the short list, which we'll present to your potential employer. Then it's up to him to pick out any applicants he wants to meet personally."
At least Kyle was still with me. That was a good sign. He was still standing near the door, which showed a lack of assertiveness, but that was also a good sign. The potential employer and I were not looking for much assertiveness.
"Uh . . . um, suitable. I . . . my CV . . ."
"Your CV is very good, Kyle. The science degree is great, very relevant, and your sports success, particularly at swimming, is just what we want. The photo is another reason, of course, and I have to say it did not lie. You are one good-looking young guy."
"Photo? Oh . . ."
"Come on, Kyle. Time to sit here so we can get down to business." I slapped the cushion yet again and smiled what I like to think is my friendliest, most reassuring smile. I needed to move things along. Move Kyle along or get him out of my office. Not being assertive was one thing; not being willing to obey instructions from the man in charge was another. No one got to the next stage if they couldn't obey my instructions.
Kyle tentatively stepped over and sat down on the sofa, as far away from me as he could. I just slid closer to him, squashing him between my body and the sofa arm. He was shaking; I could feel it.
"So, Kyle." I moved a hand to his crotch and had a feel. He seemed to levitate a foot off the sofa. "You ever see a naked man with a hard-on before, Kyle? You ever have another man see you naked with a hard-on?"
"Uh . . . yes, um sports . . . uh, showers, uh . . ." He ran out of steam. His shaking seemed worse. "Um . . . this job . . . um, what is it about?" He was panting with the strain of getting a sentence out.
Time to move the interview along. I grabbed Kyle's hand and moved it to my naked erection. "So, do you think this is an impressive piece of equipment, Kyle?" I asked as I placed the trembling hand where I wanted it.
"Uh . . . ," Kyle groaned.
"Nice hand," I murmured. Kyle's fingers twitched, and he instinctively wrapped them around my rod. He was suddenly shaking more, swallowing hard, and his lips looked damp. His eyes had been fixed on my erection almost the whole time since he had come through the door. A very good sign.
"Oh . . . Christ . . . uh," he groaned. Then his head—wham—it was in my lap and those damp lips of his were opening over my cock head, trying to swallow it whole. A firm sucking mouth enveloped a good bit of what it had available and began to vibrate and undulate wildly, if shakily, over it. I ran my fingers through his thick blond hair and massaged his scalp briefly. Then I widened my legs and "interviewed" him.
"Hmmmmm, nice," I murmured encouragingly. "Beautiful mouth. Hmmm, more of that, Kyle."
Kyle was showing me what a healthy young, highly sexed male off a national university swim team was capable of. He was getting a hell of a lot of me in, and I was going to have to move the interview along if I was going to enjoy it as well as get through all I had to cover in the time available. I moved my hand into action, pulling his shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it, and slipping it off his arms. He cooperated well. Then I had to get at his pants. Reaching between his tight belly and his muscular thighs was a minor struggle, but I quickly found that the pole I had seen growing in his lap before had sprouted into a mighty oak. Kyle was very well endowed down there. I sighed, happily. But the search for his zipper so I could free it was not easy as he bobbed and sucked. And he was a good sucker.
He sort of got the idea, though, and I got his fly undone and a hand working inside to free that big rod of his. But after giving it a good feel and making a mental note to add its size to my report, I moved on to the main part of the interview.
I got a finger to his hole pretty fast, and it slipped into a warm, twitching channel that was begging for it.
Kyle's head popped up, "Oh, no I, oh . . . I never, oh no . . . oh I don't think."
"It's part of the interview, Kyle. A veeeeery important part. You want an easy job in Hollywood that gets you contacts and gives you plenty of time to go to auditions, don't you?"
"Uhh um, uh . . ." He quivered as my two fingers dug deeper. I turned him around so he faced the wide sofa arm and then draped him over it. I didn't believe his ,"Oh no . . .I never" one bit.
I almost shuddered at the sight of his backside. He had a perfect swimmer's bulbous butt, round meaty cheeks, and between them a spattering of golden fuzz and a rosebud that looked untouched except by my fingers. My hands ripped off his pants and slapped his thighs apart, and my face fell forward until my lips made contact and my tongue darted out and struggled for a moment to get in. Then he opened to me in a quivering welcome. Oh my. Oh yes. My fingers quickly followed, and I wrapped an arm under Kyle's belly, took hold of that monster he had, and quickly brought him to sighing and moaning and his entrance to sufficient looseness. I pulled a condom packet out from the back of the sofa and was quickly crowned and beating at that gate.
Getting in there was slow and entertaining, because Kyle suddenly found his voice and moaned and gasped and cried out "Oh no! N . . . so big. Huge . . . Oh, Oh." The cries drove me on until I was pounding his ass hard as I could go and moaning myself. "Oh so gooooood. Oh . . . oh . . . wow . . . grunt."
