I hate interviews. The job was for a junior office assistant and so far I had had to sit through 6 mind numbingly boring sessions with people ranging from a 21 year old college dropout whose only question had been what sort of holidays he would be entitled to, to a 52 year old Grandmother who called me ‘dear’ 7 times in the first 5 minutes. None of them were suitable and I was fed up. On the good side though I only had one more interview to do today and then I would be done and could get on with my weekend.
My name is Michael – but everyone calls me Micky. I’m 41 years old and I’m a project planner in the oil and gas industry. I recently got divorced after I found out that my wife had been having an affair with an older man. He is 72 and she is 39 (yuck right?)….oh did I also mention that he is a multi-millionaire . No idea what attracted her to him but I wish her all the best and hope that the guy doesn’t mind the fact that she is easily the worst lay I have ever had. I’m still wondering why we were married for 9 years? I guess I got to like the fact that she was pretty – regardless of the painting by numbers sex. We never ‘got around’ to having children together. Probably more to do with her selfishness than anything else. I do have an 18 year old daughter called Emma from a previous relationship. I don’t see Emma that much as she is now at university and stays with her Mother. We email a couple of times a month and she stays with me on and off if she is in the area.
I’m not exactly what you would call a ‘hunk’. I’m 41 and I look like I’m 41. A little bit of a belly (although I can still get away with wearing a t-shirt) and getting pretty grey up top and on the chest. I’m 6 foot 2 and it has always been said that my best feature is my personality and oddly enough my hands. I keep myself fit so I have managed to avoid the middle aged spread. I also haven’t had sex for almost a year. That’s almost 365 days and nights that I haven’t been with someone. I’ve had a few dates but nothing has come of them. So I have thrown myself into work which is why I am stuck doing interviews now. I have been very successful which of course has resulted in an increase of my work load. My 2 team members (Carol – 30 years old and possibly the most annoying lady on earth and Malcolm – 53 and already a Great Grandfather!) have been trying their best to keep up with the influx but we have been getting behind in the general administration. So we made room in the budget to hire an office junior.
Back in the interview room I shook Tim’s hand, which was sweaty. I told him that we have many candidates to see and that we would be in contact as soon as possible if he was successful – he wasn’t successful. I knew he wasn’t the guy for the job as soon as he walked in the office – it might have been the slightly unshaven faced or the stain on his shirt, but it was probably the strong smell of weed coming from him.
My final interview for the day was a girl called Rebecca. She was 19 and had just left college early. She had no office experience and her only previous job was working in an ice cream parlor during weekends – seriously – why had the agency sent these people?!
I got a call from the front desk telling me that Rebecca was here. I walked down the corridor and turned into the reception. I met Rebecca. Stunning Rebecca. She was wearing a black, just above the knee skirt and a black jacket. She had a white collared shirt underneath and high heels. Her hair was long and brown with highlights running through it. She had nice legs and a rather impressive chest. She had a nice friendly smile and brown eyes. Her face showed all the joys of being a teenager – which meant she had a few patches of acne which she had done her best to conceal with her make up. I suddenly became very aware of the fact that I was staring so I quickly stuck out my hand.
“Hi, I’m Michael” I said shaking her hand.
“Hi Michael, I’m Rebecca. I’m not late am I?” She said with concern on her face.
I smiled as I noticed that her hand was soft and dry.
“Not at all. Let’s head through to the meeting room”.
I showed her through the door and walked to the interview room. We both sat down and I started on the small talk.
“Did you find the place OK?”
“It wasn’t too difficult – although the new Barretts Hill roundabout confuses things a little bit”.
“I know – not sure who planned it but maybe they could try using it during rush hour as a punishment”.
She laughed – it was a cute laugh. The ice was broken and we could begin the interview.
The interview was a pleasure. Rebecca came across as a very assured girl with some great ideas on how she wanted to progress in her career. She had given up college as she felt that her studies would not give her as much of a start as a junior position in an actual office would. She was intelligent and focused and for a 19 year old had an excellent amount of common sense. I was impressed from a professional point of view. Of course the ‘typical male’ side of me was impressed with her as well. As the interview room was essentially three comfortable chairs and a small coffee table I was treated to the lovely view of her legs. They weren’t slim but they were wonderfully shaped. Athletic would probably be the term. They were tanned and as she was not wearing tights or stockings I could see that they were shaved – probably beyond the hem of her skirt. I tried my best but I failed a few times in averting my eyes from the little bit of cleavage she was showing. Now when I said before that her chest was impressive and perhaps had not done it justice. Her breasts swelled under the shirt and jacket combo. Even the layers could not hide their size. I’m not up on bra sizes but if I imagine what I believe double D’s to look like then she had them.
She was impressive both professionally AND physically.
The interview ended with her asking me a few insightful questions. Boxes firmly ticked.
She got up from her chair and smoothed her skirt out. I noticed that she had a nice flat stomach with the skirt outlining her thighs. I walked her down the corridor back to reception. As she passed through the door ahead of me I managed to get a glimpse of her arse. Was this girl for real? Seriously – do girls like this actually exist?
“Thank you Michael for seeing me today”, she said with genuine gratitude.
“No, thank you for coming in and making the day worthwhile”. I said, cringing as soon as the words left my mouth.
She laughed, “Well happy to raise the standard”.
“Consider it firmly raised!” Oh God Micky get it together I thought. “I’ll let you know as soon as possible if you have been successful.
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed”. And with that she shook my hand and walked out of the reception. I turned around and ignored the receptionists smirk and went back to my desk.
“Anyone tick the boxes?” asked Malcolm.
“Only one”, I said. “She was impressive”.
“I don’t care who you get Micky, just as long as they can get everything organized ASAP”, barked Carol.
“I’m pretty confident that she’ll be perfect”.
We all got back to work. I struggled through the remainder of the day – not only was the project I was working on complex but I couldn’t get the image of Rebecca’s legs out of my mind.
At 5pm I called the agency and informed them that we would like to offer the role to Rebecca if she was interested. The agency called back at 5:20pm and said that Rebecca would love to join the team and that she could start as soon as she was needed. I let them know that she would need to go through the company medical protocol and that we would pencil her in to start in a fortnight. The countdown was on.
That night watching TV in my apartment with my ready-made meal and can of lager I was still being visited by images of Rebecca. Due to loneliness and the buzz from the 3 cans lager I started to feel that all too familiar feeling in my crotch. Dressed in my usual night time attire of boxers and t-shirt I absent-mindedly started to rub my cock. Just a slow rub. Thoughts of Rebecca’s naked legs and breasts started to swirl around me. I imagined her standing in front of me in just bra and panties. Imagined her slowly undoing her bra and allowing her breasts to fall in to view. Imagined her gently playing with her nipples, biting her lower lip as her other hand traced down her flat stomach to the top of her panties. Imagining her fingers working their way under the waist elastic. Seeing the outline of her fingers moving over her pussy, hidden from me by the thinnest layer of material. I now had my cock in my hand. It was fully erect and rock hard. Harder than it had been in a long time. My eyes closed as I felt the stirrings of my orgasm starting. In my mind Rebecca was now fingering herself to her own orgasm. Her full lips shaped in an O and her breathing shallow. I imagined that her feverish fingering had tipped her over the edge and she gave in to thundering orgasm. My cock swelled and still with my eyes closed I felt the warm wetness of my semen fall onto my legs and hand. I sat there breathing hard with my heart racing. Once the glow had waned I opened my eyes. I looked down and saw the mess. The sexiness was gone. Now I just had a sticky hand, cold legs and a sweaty back. I smiled to myself and though what a sad old man I was to be fantasizing about a 19 year old girl who probably had some hunky boyfriend and no need of a 41 year old pervert. I cleaned myself up with some tissues and went to the shower. The fact that I wanked again in the shower to the made up image of Rebecca sucking my cock is completely irrelevant.
The next few weeks passed quickly. We were busy and the days went fast. I had set everything up for Rebecca’s arrival. She would be on the desk opposite me and next to Malcolm. Our desk arrangement was 4 desks in a square all facing inwards. I guess I was happy that I would be able to see Rebecca quite easily. The perv in me realized that I would be able to grab quick glances of her without being too obvious. I really was a sad old man.
The day arrived. It had been a long weekend for me. I had been in the office on Saturday and Sunday and had been up late last night making revisions for a project in the US. Rebecca was due in at 9am. For some reason I was nervous. Possibly cause I wasn’t sure how Carol and Malcolm would react to Rebecca. Would they think I had chosen her just for her looks? Would the office ‘lads’ make things difficult for her or me. Would she leave before her probation period because she didn’t like working with me? Oh Micky you sound like teenage boy. Get a grip!
Rebecca arrived at 10 to 9. She was wearing a similar suit combo as she wore in the interview accept with a pink shirt. He hair was tied up – she looked amazing but also professional. I walked her through the office to her desk and showed her where her space for ‘things’ were. I introduced her to Malcolm (who suddenly transformed into a witty distinguished man) and Carol (who, as I thought, was quick to shoot me a glance of disgust). Rebecca though was friendly and struck instant rapport with them both. I then introduced her to various important folk around the office. Again she excelled in being courteous and able to talk to a variety of different people. I couldn’t help noticing a few of the younger guys in the office rushing to introduce themselves. Looks between the guys ranged from impressed to downright leering. We went back to our desk area and started to go over the role that she would be doing. As I expected she took to the role like a duck to water. She outlined plans to remodel the filing and to implement electronic archiving. Even Carol had to be impressed. During the day I must have received 10 emails from guys in the office congratulating me on hiring her. Again – they ranged from guy back slapping to downright disgusting descriptions of what they would do to her. At lunch she was Miss Popular. Most of the guys tried to vie for her attention. When I saw her laugh at a young lads joke I actually felt my hand ball into a fist. Why did it make me feel jealous…how ridiculous.
The first week was great. Our backlog of administration was almost gone. New procedures were working well and Rebecca was a breath of fresh air in the office. I found myself looking forward to seeing her in the morning. We had an easy going relationship. We chatted about everything from travel to music, movies to cooking and pets to cars. Although she could still make my dick hard just by turning up to work in a slightly tight top I was happy that we were ‘clicking’ as colleagues.
One conversation in particular made my heart soar. We were talking about going on holiday. I jokingly said that I might sign up for one of the singles package holidays. She replied “Oh, maybe I should get involved in that as well”. She blushed “I…I didn’t mean going with you”. I told her that I knew what she meant and casually dropped into the conversation “So no boyfriend then”?
“No”. My heart skipped a beat.
“There is a guy but I’m not really sure what is happening”, she said looking a little down.
“I’ve known him for about 5 years and we got together on and off for about a year…but….it’s not really what I want”.
I wanted to know more but wasn’t sure how far to push it.
“It’s tough when the feelings of one person are different to the other. He won’t commit to you”?
“No – it’s the other way round. I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. He’s not the person I thought he was”. She looked genuinely sad.
Realizing that the conversation was getting a bit heavy for the office I tried to make a joke.
“You’ll need to come out on a work night and give all the guys here a thrill”. I regretted saying it straight away. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.
“I…..mean…..um…..have some fun with the guys here……..(shut up Micky – stop talking)”
I had visions of being marched off to HR, instead she gave me the slightest hint of a smile.
“Let’s organize something”, she whispered conspiratorially.
“Really”, I said.
“Yeah. Let’s have a big welcome to the office party for me and I’ll drink free for the night”.
“OK”, I said perhaps a little too quickly.
“Great”, she said. “I’ll send out an email and we’ll do something in the next few weeks.
The email was sent. Unlike most office ‘social nights’ this one seemed to be getting a lot of positive feedback. Mainly from the young guys but then, gradually, the rest of the office got involved until there was a list of about 40 people going. The original date was set for about 3 weeks but then a couple of the young lads (fancying their chances) decided that we should try for the following weekend to coincide with a local band playing in a bar near us. So the date was set. The girls decided to dress ‘glam’….the guys decided to dress in jeans. Cause that’s what guys do.
I was really starting to enjoy my office!
My wanking habits were out of control now. Not helped by Friday dress down at work. Rebecca had managed to remain well covered with cardigans and layering for the last few Friday’s. But being alongside such a beautiful girl all day occasional things happened that would be stored in my ‘bank’ for later at home. Like for instance one day when one of her buttons on her blouse popped open giving me the slightest view of her cleavage and bra. When she noticed it I swear she checked out if I was looking and then waited for a few minutes before buttoning it. There was the time when she was wearing a tight work skirt and had to bend over at the filing cabinet directly opposite me. And then there was the last Friday dress down. The weather had got warmer so her choice of clothing had got a little more ‘revealing’. She turned up to work in a pair of tight jeans and a silky/satin type top that was very fitted. Near the end of the day we were talking about the book 50 Shades of Grey. We were having a funny chat about the themes of the book. As she was describing her thoughts on B&D and quite oblivious to her own movements she brushed her breast with her hand a couple of times. I noticed and felt my cock move in my pants. But what really did it for me was about 30 seconds later I noticed the outline of her hardening nipples. She must have noticed shortly after me as she put on her jacket ‘ready for home’ about an hour before she was due to leave. To spare my own embarrassment I didn’t get up from my desk for at least 20 minutes after she had left. I couldn’t wait till I got home I was so pent up. Sitting in the usual traffic jam I loosened my jeans and belt, undid my buttons and started stroking myself right there in the middle of traffic. The image of her hard nipples straining against the soft material of her shirt meant that I was cumming within minutes. In my haste to wank I had completely forgot that people were walking past the car as I sat there. Did anyone see….did I care? Arriving back home I went straight into the shower a wanked again. Afterwards I felt perverse. She was young enough to be my daughter. Imagine how should have felt knowing that her boss was constantly pleasuring himself to her image. She would have been disgusted. I know I was with myself.
The rest of the week progressed as usual. We were behind in one of the proposals so I was planning to work late. As 5pm rolled about the office started to empty. I was surprised that Rebecca wasn’t doing her usual going home routine. She was asking me questions about certain points in a schedule that she was archiving.
“Why don’t you forget about that and head home” I told her.
“I….um…..just thought I could stay behind and help out. I’d like to help you with the ETR 2000 proposal.” She bit her lower lip “pleeeease” she smiled.
I laughed, “well I guess if that’s how you want to spend your Thursday night”.
“I really do. I don’t want to just be an admin person. I want to learn how things work and you seem like you know what you’re talking about”.
“You cheeky thing”, I said feigning insult.
I showed her the documents that we were working on and together we started going through the process. Updating timelines, milestones, resources and equipment. She wrote notes in her book, questioning why things were being done a certain way and even making a suggestion that turned out to save some time and money on a particular job scope. She really did impress me. We worked well together and to be honest I thoroughly enjoyed her company. I checked out the clock and saw that it was twenty past 8.
“Wow! Probably time for home” I said.
“Oh yeah – god that went fast”, she exclaimed.
We started packing up our things and switching off laptops.
“Are you OK to get home?” I enquired.
“I’ll just get the bus, it’s along in 15 minutes” she said.
“I’ll give you a lift home, where do you live?” I said a little to eagerly.
“It’s OK. I’ll be fine on the bus”.
“Come on Rebecca – I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe”.
“Are you sure”
“Get your bag and come on – you’ve pulled”. I instantly turned beetroot red. I had overstepped the line and made things awkward. There was a moment of silence broken by the loud laughter of Rebecca.
“Oh my god Micky – did you just say that” she managed to say in between cackles.
“That sounded so much cooler and funnier in my head”.
“Come on Mr. Joker – take me home”.
We walked out of the office still laughing at my attempt at humour. The whole way down to the car she kept dropping little digs regarding her being taken home by an ‘old man’. It was done without an ounce of mean though so I happily played along. She was great fun.
We hoped into my car. It was a new model Audi Q5. I got it as a present for my upcoming divorce and recent pay rise (Also as a bit of a celebration that my lawyer had managed to protect a lot of my earnings and assets in the divorce – not that she needed any of my money!) The night air was still warm so we put the windows down.
“Where am I going?” I asked.
“Just to Denburn, 32 Globe Street.”
I entered the info into the sat-nav and took off out of the carpark.
The drive was comfortable. The conversation flowed easily back and forth. I found out that she was really into horse riding and that her parents were current living in southern Spain. Her Father owned a chain of car sale yards and he had recently sold them and retired. Her Mum was a nurse but was also winding down her career. She had a brother who was down in London and working as an actor. He had been on a couple of TV shows but just as a bit part. She was very proud of him.
As she was talking I couldn’t help notice that her dress was creeping up her thighs. Her smooth legs looked so good. I could just reach out and start stroking them, if only I had the balls. She had taken of her jacket and her blouse was doing an admirable job in keeping her tits from exploding through not only the buttons but the actual material. She was looking out the side window so I managed to get a great view of her side boob. But of course all this managed to do was make me swell. As I was driving and she was looking my way a bit it was impossible to adjust myself. I was mortified as I glanced down to see that I was obviously aroused. It kind of looked like the zipper was just folded a strange way but I could only imagine what she would make of it. I tried my best to make it go away but to no avail. She kept talking about things and then it happened. She made a joke about Carol’s tea drinking habit and laughed. She glanced down and must of clocked the bulge in my work trousers. It wasn’t a full on ‘rager’ but it must have looked obvious. Her laughter subsided and she stared straight ahead out of the windscreen. I had been caught. I had to do something so I acknowledged it.
“I’m really sorry Rebecca”. I said quietly.
“It’s OK” she replied.
“It was the bounce and movement of the car and I’m really sorry. It’s really unprofessional and I am mortified”. I felt like I was genuinely going to cry from embarrassment.
“Seriously Micky it’s OK. It happens. You’re not the first guy that has suffered from it”.
“I know – but you’re a colleague – oh man this is so unprofessional”.
“Micky – please – don’t feel bad about it”.
I saw a wicked grin spread across her face.
She slowly turned and looked straight at my face. “At your age you should be happy that you can still get it to do that!”
I lost it.
I pulled the car over and dissolved into a fit of laughter. I noticed that Rebecca was also creased over in her seat. We continued to laugh for 10 or 15 minutes.
Rebecca turned once the laughter died down, “You should have seen your face. I thought you were going to cry!”
“I was! I was expecting you to resign and not come into work tomorrow”.
“Micky, I know stuff like that happens. Honestly it’s not a problem. Just don’t make a habit of it.
“I really am sorry Rebecca. It’s just….well….you know”.
“Let’s just leave it at that Micky. Wait until I tell the guys at work tomorrow!”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
She burst into laughter again. I pulled the car back onto the road and continued on to her address. We carried on joking about it and she told me a story about a guy that used to come into her work (the ice cream parlor) every day and wait for her to serve him. He would always order an ice cream that was the furthest away from her so she would have to lean forward to scoop it. He would then press his crotch against the glass and start rubbing his crotch back and forth while staring at her exposed upper chest. One day he obviously got too aggressive and she ended up throwing ice cream at him. While she was telling the story she was moving in her seat. At first I thought it was because she was really into the telling of the story. But the more she did it the more her skirt bunched up. At first it gave me a great view of her thighs but by the end of the story I could almost see right up to her crotch. Did I catch a view of her panties? Was she doing this on purpose?
My erection was starting to make itself known again.
My Sat-Nav made it known that I was now just about outside her apartment.
“This is me here Micky”.
I pulled the car over. She picked up her bag from the foot well and put on her leather jacket. As she stretched up to put her arms in her sleeves she thrust her tits out further than was necessary.
“Thanks for the ride Micky. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Um – have a good night”, I said in a state of confusion.
She made no attempt at pulling her skirt down to cover her thighs. She opened the door of the car and slowly swung her legs out. She then hoped out of the car and her skirt fell down to its normal length. She flashed me a smile and then walked to her door. I watched her unlock the door, turn and wave and then head inside.
In a daze I put the car in gear and pulled away. Within a minute I had my cock out and was pumping it for all I was worth. Perhaps it was a little dangerous but I didn’t care. After a mere 3 or 4 minutes I had exploded all over my hand and trousers and still I didn’t care.
The walk from my car park up to my apartment was a bit nerve wracking. Although I had wiped most of the cum from my trousers there was still an obvious stain. But I met no one on the way in to my front door so all was good. Once inside I had something to eat and went straight to a shower and then bed. What had happened on that car journey? Had she hiked her skirt up on purpose? Had she meant to stick her chest out like that? Oh this is not good for an old mans heart!