Naed Interview

"We're just about ready Mrs Nelson. Corrie will be out for you in a moment. Would you like a coffee?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

She would have loved a coffee just to distract from her rising nervousness. But she didn't want coffee on her scrubbed teeth or her meticulously applied lipstick. She didn't want to have to pee.

There was a mirror in the reception area and she reviewed herself briefly: jacket straight, hair pulled back, but not up, everything in place.

She checked one more time to ensure that nothing could be seen under her lace top, turned and checked her backside. Looking over her shoulder, no panty lines showing in her snug black pants.

"We're ready for you now, I'm Corrie."

Corrie was younger, late twenties, pretty in her pink scrubs and blonde hair.

Annette didn't like the idea of her doing the interview.

In the office there were two other people around the desk, a middle aged man, looking distracted as she came in, going over notes with a pen in his hand, and an older woman, about Annette's age, in a cream linen pants suit.

"Hello, is it Annette? "

"Yes, hello."

"Thank you for coming in today, I'm Marie, you've met Corrie, and this is Gordon. Gordon is the division manager and I'm the unit head."

"Nice to meet both of you."

They went over her resume, her education, her experience, while she readied herself for the harder questions she had prepared two weeks for. The questions were mostly what she had expected. Marie asked most of them, Corrie a couple, Gordon rarely looked up from his notes, and grumbled out a handful of clarifications.

"Annette, you must be warm, why don't you take your jacket off?"

"No, I'm perfect, thanks." In fact she was warm, but was worried there might be sweat appearing under her arms. Plus her top was sleeveless, and she was self-conscious, especially in front of these two, about her upper arms.

"Please Annette, your jacket. It's fine."

""Oh really, I'm good."

"The jacket, please, Mrs Nelson," said Gordon, impatiently, looking up over his glasses.

"Alright," she complied, confused by their insistence, unnerved by Gordon's tone. She folded the jacket neatly in her lap.

They conferred a moment, quietly, glancing towards her a few times.

"Mrs Nelson," Gordon again, "Do you want this position?"

"Yes, of course, very much." She looked back and forth at them, scared that something had gone wrong in the interview already.

"I will be frank with you Annette, you are perfectly qualified, and your references and experience all make you a perfect fit for whom we are looking for," said Marie, pleasantly.

"Thank you..."

"Mrs Nelson, " interrupted Gordon, "The challenge we have is that you are not even remotely the only qualified candidate. I have three women in this pile with more experience, I have two in this pile with better educational credentials..."

She felt something sinking.

"All with their strengths and shortcomings," Marie put in, countering Gordon's gruffness. "What we are looking for is something to distinguish one very good applicant from several other very good applicants."

She launched precipitously, "I see, well what I can tell you is what I think I can bring to this opportunity..."

Gordon looked at his watch, put down his pen, "Take off your top, Mrs Nelson."

Silence.

"Pardon, I don't..."

"Your top, Mrs Nelson. Remove it. We have 30 minutes left in your interview time and I will not be repeating myself throughout."

"I don't see, I am not sure if I...."

"Annette, my apologies for Gordon's gruffness, he's mostly harmless. But you see, what we are looking for in addition to all your admirable traits and qualifications are certain...tangibles and intangibles...."

"I don't understand..." she clasped her hands together in her lap tighter, feeling them start to shake, thinking this a bad dream.

"By intangibles she means the ability to understand and follow explicit instructions. This is not a place where you can make mistakes. Peoples' health depends on it." Gordon was leaning over the desk now, glowering.

"Of course...."

"And by tangibles," Marie's voice was like a welcome wash of cool water after Gordon, comforting, "well, those are under your clothes."

There was a silence that seemed to go on forever, and she did not know how to break it.

Corrie smiled pleasantly the whole time, as if this were a normal day at the office.

"Mrs Nelson," Gordon continued, a little softer, "Here is one thing I can tell you at this point. All three of us are sufficiently convinced by what we have heard and seen to this point that you are one of our leading candidates. It is up to you now. 28 minutes from now, you could have this job. It is that simple, but it is 100 percent up to you. I cannot make it any clearer. Your fate is in your hands. You have one minute to weigh your options. "

She was 45 years old, beyond the age she thought anyone would take this kind of advantage. It seemed so cold, so matter-of-fact. She had worked in HR, years ago, and knew she had avenues for recourse.

But at the end, did it matter? She had worked so hard for this job. 27 minutes.

"Mrs Nelson?"

"It's alright honey," Marie smiled reassuringly, the support she needed at that moment.

Annette looked at them, eyes watering just slightly, and reached down. She took a deep trembling breath as her top came over her head.

She sat there now, self consciously, flushing. She adjusted her hair, incongruously, when she really wondered whether her bra was positioned correctly, and wondered whether a black bra, chosen for its inconspicuousness under the top, was a poor choice. She thought about the little plump roll that pushed softly over her waistband,

"Very good, Annette. Thank you. Can you stand up now, please. And put your jacket and your top on the rack behind you?"

She did.

"Very nice, " said Marie, professionally. "hands at your sides, please. Turn around. No, stop please, facing the door. "

She waited, interminably, her bare back towards them, her palms sweating. She thought she felt a trickle of sweat down the middle of her lower back. She waited over a minute, forever, hearing them mumble behind her.

"And turn again."

"What do you think, Corrie?"

"Yes, I think yes."

"You have a lovely figure, Annette. Truly."

"Thank you," she choked in an awkward whisper. Gordon looked at her over his glasses.

"Pants now, Mrs Nelson."

"Please," Marie softened it.

She hesitated a moment over the snap of her pants, thinking ridiculously of her soft belly flesh, swelling slightly over her waistband. She clicked the snap open, like a stone breaking in the silence. Then her zipper. She slipped off her shoes.

"Take your time."

She pulled them down, conscious of her cleavage pointed right at her panel, stepped out of her pants.

She had worn beige panties, not her best, but the ones with the least chance of bunching or showing lines.

She stood there, many agonizing seconds, self-conscious about her mismatched underwear, wondering what to do with her hands, feeling her legs tremble, feeling a cool drip of perspiration down the middle of her spine, trickling down under her waistband, down the long journey of her crack.

They talked amongst themselves, looking at her, Gordon making notes and pointing with the end of his pen. What the hell could he be writing down? What were they going to ask next?

"You may sit, Mrs Nelson."

She had no idea why that felt like a relief.

"Corrie, if you please."

Corrie, quiet Corrie, stood up, pretty in her scrubs, and walked towards her. Stood close.

Without any hint, Corrie leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, lingered, worked her way back to Annette's ear.

Annette closed her eyes, shaking from head to toe. Should she move? Should she kiss her back? What did they expect?

Corrie kept on kissing, not mechanically, but with genuine tenderness, her hands moving up and down Annette's bare, trembling arms. She kissed her neck, her chin, the top of her chest, finally settling on Annette's soft, terrified mouth.

"Uh...." she breathed out a soft surprised grunt. Corrie's left hand stroked through Annette's thick brown hair, her right hand touched her shoulder, slipped the bra strap down.

Annette felt the soft hand around back, unsnapping her. And with her mouth still on Annette's the bra came down, her small, soft, middle aged breasts sliding free.

Her breath was coming quickly now, the horror of this room, the awful exposure, the dampness she began to feel between her legs. Corrie was a very good kisser, and her hands were moving gently over Annette's bare torso, brushing the skin up her long back, her belly, up her sides. When Corrie took her own top off, and then her bra, Annette focused on Corrie's young breasts inches from her face, her nipples, trying not to see beyond to the other two.

Corrie offered her self to Annette's mouth, tracing her lips with her nipple until she opened, accepting its perfect softness . Corrie pulled her closer, sinking Annette's head into her chest.

She kissed Corrie at first, then touched the flat of her tongue to the tip of Corrie's nipple. Her hands were on Corrie's waist and the scrubs slid down easily.

She started to suck. Tears streamed down onto Corrie's skin as Annette nursed with desperation. She felt the back of Corrie's legs, her round, warm bottom, up between her thighs.

And then she touched it, almost oblivious now, Corrie's vulva bulging in cotton panties. Corrie whimpered encouragingly and Annette began to stroke her, tentatively, slowly, feeling a growing undeniable urgency.

After a few moments Corrie climaxed peacefully, a quiet, panting release, as she pinched her thighs around Annette's hand and pulled her face tight to her chest.

Corrie stepped out of the pants gathered around her ankles and knelt down in front of Annette. She kissed her knees, her plump closed thighs. Annette kept her eyes closed, trying to ignore the other two.

"Stand up, Mrs Nelson," Gordon's stern, unwelcome voice.

She stood.

Corrie, kneeling in front of her, slid down the beige panties, and Annete flushed terribly, naked with her inquisitors looking on, ridiculously aroused, her dark pubic hair glistening just slightly at the closeness of Corrie's face.

"Turn."

She turned. She was ashamed of her wide hips, her pale backside, though it was by far her best feature.

Corrie kissed the back of her thighs, the small of her back, then her plump, soft bottom, her hands moving up and down the front of her legs. Annette was in an agony of arousal now, not wanting to climax in this room , not wanting Corrie to stop.

Corrie kissed her deep in her crack, her cool tongue exploring her. Annette gasped in surprise. Corrie's hand brushed up over her conspicuous mound.

Corrie was buried deep in her impressive bottom, and her hand gently teased her cunt, the other one playing up and down Annette's left thigh.

And then she came, a rushing, degrading, explosion of repressed ecstasy, "oh....oh....please....oh oh oh oh oh oh don't......" she tried to be quiet, but the room was completely silent aside from her.

And the tears and sweat destroyed her makeup, but the waves of orgasm kept washing through her and she wasn't sure she could stand, her thighs shook so much, but Corrie kept going, kissing her bottom with an open questing mouth, licking just slightly inside her sphincter, her index finger deep in Annete's wet, wet vagina.

When it was over they let her sit a minute, and catch her breath. She was a naked mess. She stared blankly down at her panties, abandoned on the floor.

"Mrs Nelson?"

She looked up, knowing her makeup was ruined, her body slumped and used.

"Mrs Nelson, that is all the time we have. Please get yourself together. Our schedule is quite full here today."

She looked around confused, as if she could find a private place to dress, as if it mattered. Corrie had already dressed and was putting her running shoes on. She smiled up at Annette.

She dressed, in front of them all, because she couldn't think what else to do.

She looked at her watch. 11:22. Eight minutes.

"I'll see you out, " Marie smiled pleasantly.

Marie took her to the outer office. There was no one else waiting.

She felt wasted, pointless. She had tried so hard to get to this point, to this interview, and it all came down to her body, to her ass, like always, to the inside of her vagina. All that studying, all that money, all that preparation, and now she was a degraded mess, and still no closer to a job.

"I think that went well, thank you for coming in today, Annette," Maria said brightly, extending her hand.

"When will I....?" stupid question, and she stopped halfway.

"I think you already have, dear. You can start next Monday. I think you will fit in just fine here. "

"That interview....."

"You'll get used to that sort of thing. We still have work here to do but I think you'll find there is a variety of opportunities to get ahead. But mind Gordon, especially during your probation. That's six months, and he can be quite demanding. As can I, in my own way. "

"Monday?

"6:30 sharp. You report to me. I am very much looking forward to it. Very much."

"Thank you." She had nothing else to say.

"There's a bathroom around the corner dear, if you want to freshen up," she moved closer and put her lips next to Annette's ear and whispered, " But I think you look lovely. Truly."

And there was a quick peck on her ear, she shivered, and watched Marie walk away, back to the office, graceful and strong in her cream suit.

Monday, she thought. I'll have to leave by 5:45 to get here on time. And she started to plan what to wear.