dreamer
Slave
Registration Date: 06-27-2006
Posts: 179
Mistress Or Master Or Slave: Slave
Level: 37 [?]
Experience: 1,203,577
Next Level: 1,209,937
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It's just after 5 p.m. when you arrive at the plush reception room in my downtown office building. As you see people leaving around you, you wonder why I scheduled your second interview for 5:30 p.m. you thought you had done well in your first meeting with me. Evidently you had, well enough, at least to gain a second interview. But the timing of it puzzles you.
As you sit down in the carpeted, wood-paneled reception area, my receptionist takes your name with the hint of a smile on her face, and telephones me to inform me that you are waiting. You are told I won't be finished with a late teleconference until 6 p.m., and asked if you would mind waiting until then. You agree, and my receptionist informs me. As she leaves, that smile, almost mischevious in nature, appears on her face. You can only wonder.
At 6:30 p.m., you hear my voice on the external intercom, asking you to enter my office. A bit miffed, you tell yourself to bite your tongue and promise not to question me about the delay and walk inside. Night has fallen. The sky is clear, filled with stars. My comfortable office, with its full view of the city, is stunning. As you close the office door at my request, you hear its lock automatically click shut, fingered no doubt from a mechanism on my desk.
Dressed in a commanding gray, pinstriped power business suit, I ask you to sit down and begin discussing your qualifications. Sitting behind my large mahogany desk, I almost routinely repeat your credentials. You wonder what you are doing here, and your ego's need to demand an apology from me battles with your requirement for a job. "John, your qualifications clearly demonstrate that you're ready for this position," I say. "What I want to know is whether you are ready for any position I might need." Puzzled, you ask, "What do you mean?" "It's quite simple. Your job requirements extend beyond your schooling and previous experience," I say. Leaning back in my chair, I add, "I want to show you how far they extend. Strip for me. Slowly."
You are stunned. You consider walking out the door and leaving. "I can see the look of concern on your face. Allow me to explain. I need you to respond to my every need. You will always be respected and trusted, well paid and pampered," I say, as my fingers unbutton my blouse. My hand slips inside my white blouse to fondle my already hardened left nipple. "I want to see what you can do. Come here," I say, a gasp coming from my mouth as my feet are placed atop the desk, parting my skirt to reveal that I am wearing only nylons and garters.
You walk around my desk. My left hand extends to fondle the length of your hardened organ. My right hand pulls harder at my left nipple. You slowly drop your jacket to the floor, loosen your tie and begin to unbutton your dress shirt. My hand leaves your organ to reach up and rake my fingernails across your chest.
Suddenly, I slip my fingers around your right nipple and tug it sharply. "Ooooh," you moan in ecstacy, no longer aware that a woman is fondling you and herself in front of a windowed-wall in a metropolis. Once your shirt is unbuttoned, you reach down to loosen your pants, sliding the zipper down the length of your erect organ. I am moaning now, reaching my hands back and forth across my nipples. "Let me see your organ. Let me see it. Now!" I say among moans. You slide your pants down far enough to expose its full hardness and testicles, bulged and aching to be mine. You begin to stroke it, my mouth inches away. Moaning, you begin to think I am going to orally take over. And I do. It's just not what you expected.
I stand up, place my left leg on an extend lower drawer from my desk. "Drop to your knees! Now!" I say. On your knees, you look up at me in the commanding position, hand still playing fiercely with my nipples. "Eat me!" I moan, using my left hand to push your face into my hot cleft...where you find bewna balls! "Pull them out," I moan. As each leaves my cleft, I moan in ecxtasy. As soon as the last one emerges, I mash my pussy against your face. "Eat me. Eat your boss. Pass this test. You must please me. Again. And again. And again!" I moan, with my head thrown back in ecstacy. I cum quickly once, then a second time. My orgasms are fierce, primal. "Lay your head on my chair, face up," I moan. As you do, I plop my wetness down on your face, rubbing my cleft across your face in a cascade of moans. With your nose buried in my snatch, your tongue runs along my lips and clit. Occassionally, you lick my tight, tart ass, causing me to moan. I just keep cumming.
I lift myself off of your face, moaning, "I need you in me now!" I spin my chair around, we are facing the city, and with my legs on the arms of the chair, slide your erect organ into me. "Fill me up. Again and again. Please me," I moan, riding the length of your organ as you press upward to meet my thrusts. We are partially-clothed, moaning and groaning each other's name, telling each other how nasty and horny the other is. You feel my hand slip underneath us to firmly grasp your testicles and you can feel your orgasm rise. "You're going to make me cum," you moan in my ear, sticking your tongue deep inside it to tease and tantilize me further. You feel me grip you tighter. I moan, "Deeper. Deeper. Deeper." and plug my tongue in your ear, fondling your testicles. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming," you rasp out, moaning as you feel me grasp your organ and slipping a finger into your tight bottom mouth...and begin my own orgasm in a cascade of moans.
Your liquid flows inside of me as mine coats your organ and inner thighs.
Panting, we sit entwined. Suddenly you ask, "Did I get the job?" I look up and smile. "That's only the first part of the second interview. There's more to cum." "And cum..." "And cum..."
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The Interview
