A Job Interview With A Twist [FF]

I don’t remember much of the interview, only that I wasn’t at my best. I’d gotten sick a few days before, but – with matching gaps in our respective schedules hard to come by, tickets scheduled and a hotel booked on my behalf – I decided to fly to New York anyway.

It was one of those times where you don’t realize how okay you’re not until somebody else notices.

“You really don’t look good,” was the first thing Stephanie ever said to me. She was waiting for me in the lobby of the hotel, blonde and thin and pretty, younger than I’d expected but cutting a severe figure in a dark business suit, her hair pulled back in a tight bun.

“I’m surviving,” I said.

Which was true. I felt like garbage and I was sweating despite the frigid temperature outside, but I’d made it through five hours on a plane and forty-five minutes in New York traffic. I could manage an interview.

Stephanie was both recruiter and HR, wearing many hats for a start-up that had head-hunted me via recommendation from mutual acquaintances. They’d made a good start and had some buzz, and wanted me on a team working to build their client base. It was mostly the money that caught my eye if I’m honest; I had my doubts about their longevity. Still, the New York move was an interesting thought, and I didn’t want to discount the opportunity without giving them a chance to sell me on it.

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Really, I’m okay.”

I wasn’t. By the time the interview was over, I was beginning to feel like just standing up would be more than my body could handle.

“I think you’d better get some rest,” she said. “I appreciate you soldiering through all this, but you’re not well.”

“I wasn’t sure if and when we’d be able to do this if not today…” I stood and the lounge we’d found a quiet corner of seemed to sway, as if we were on a boat. I grabbed the back of the chair.

“Look, sit down. I’ll get you checked in.”

Stephanie took my arm and pretty much forced me back into the chair. I folded my arms in my lap and let my head rest on them, closing my eyes.

“Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

It seemed like she was only gone a moment, and as she helped me to my feet, I wondered if I’d briefly passed out.

“Do I need to call you a doctor?” she asked, once we were in the elevator.

I shook my head. “I just need to lie down. Sorry about this.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. Come on.”

I remember us being in the hallway then being in the room. I remember the relief of laying down, cool sheets, Stephanie pulling the curtains closed…

I woke up in the dark, disoriented and panicked. There was enough light to see the bedside lamp, and I reached over and switched it on. I still felt woozy and vaguely nauseous, but whatever had screwed me up seemed to have mostly moved on. My phone was on the bedside table and I picked it up to find the usual emails and texts, plus a message from Stephanie to let her know how I was doing.

*Don’t worry if it’s late. I’m a light sleeper*, she’d written.

It was 3am, which meant I’d been out over twelve hours.

*Just woke up*, I sent back. *Feeling a lot better. Thank you.*

Either I’d undressed myself and didn’t remember doing it, or she’d stripped me down to my panties and hung my skirt and blouse in the open closet. The thought of needing such help made my face feel hot, as did the idea of her seeing me basically naked. I doubted either had done my chances of getting the job any good.

I stood up slowly, and when everything seemed okay, I went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. By the time I came out, she’d responded.

*Good to hear. I moved your flight back to 2pm, will email you the itinerary. Get some rest.*

I tried to take her advice, but my body had decided it had done enough sleeping, and I ended up not doing much save for staring at the ceiling. Restless, I got up, threw on the sweater and jeans I’d bought for the flight home, and took a walk in the cold New York morning, finally finding my way to a diner, where I sipped a glass of water and picked carefully at the edges of a bagel until I felt sure I could keep both down.

It was starting to get light when I finally arrived back at the hotel, but the curtains kept the morning out, and after laying in bed for a while, I finally drifted off again, only waking when somebody tapped on my door.

I answered it still half-asleep, with bed hair and no pants on.

“Believe it or not, this is an improvement on yesterday,” Stephanie said, smiling at me.

It was the first time I’d seen her smile, or at least the first time I could remember, and it was a movie star transformation that reminded me of Cameron Diaz. Her eyes were an intense blue-green, and there was something incredibly endearing about her too-long nose.

Maybe it was the sickness, maybe the mothering, but I was suddenly smitten.

“You came to offer me the job, right?”

She laughed. “I came to make sure you were okay to fly home and see if you wanted breakfast.”

“I ate,” I said. “Like, way early. Do you want to come in?”

“Sure.”

I closed the door and she took off her coat and scarf and draped them over a chair. She was wearing a dark grey sweater dress beneath, belted around her tiny waist, legs sheathed in nylon beneath knee-length boots. It was the ensemble of somebody who knew how to dress, to accentuate her long legs and to make the most of modest curves.

Sometimes, things happen by design. There’s build-up and tension and a mutual understanding, even if it’s partially subconscious, of a physical endgame. Sometimes, though, shit just happens. With Stephanie, I had no intention or inkling of what came next. Suddenly, we were standing a couple of feet apart, almost strangers, alone in a hotel room, just looking at each other.

Stephanie laughed. There was color in her cheeks.

“I…don’t know what to say,” she said. “I’m just going to…”

She stepped towards me and kissed me lightly on the lips, her cold hand touching my cheek. She smelled of vanilla and tasted of mint. I could feel how nervous she was, and I found myself wondering if it had been there all along, lost in the fog of my sickness.

I opened my mouth, placing my hand overs hers as our tongues met and danced, pulling it down to my breast, bare beneath my sweatshirt, squeezing it with her. We stumble-stepped backwards to the bed, still kissing. We came down together so I was sitting, Stephanie straddling me. I grabbed her thighs, slid my hands upwards, pleasantly surprised to feel stocking-tops and suspenders beneath my fingers as I pushed her dress up over her hips, then the thin waistband of what could only be a thong.

She pushed me onto my back, pulled up my sweater and pulled her lips from mine for long enough to get it up over my head. I wrestled it off and tossed it aside. She kissed my jaw and my throat, sucking her lips to my skin, teeth grazing me, working her way down to my collarbone, my chest, and then my breasts. She took them in her hands and squeezed, bringing my nipples up to her hungry mouth, each in turn disappearing between her lips to be sucked and licked and lightly bitten until I was breathing hard, wriggling beneath her.

I felt my way to her belt, unbuckled and pulled it off. I grabbed at the hem of her dress and she sat up, crossed her arms over her front and stripped it off. She was all black lace beneath, thong and garter belt and bra, her nipples not-quite-visible, suggested in a way that was far sexier than transparency.

She stopped me trying to sit back up, one hand on my chest pushing me back down into the mess of blankets. She reached back and touched me, fingers pushing the soft cotton of my panties into the damp cleft of my pussy, pressing and rubbing my labia, making me moan with equal parts pleasure and frustration at the barrier between us.

She turned her attention there, first looking back, then adjusting to straddle me in the other direction. I lifted my ass off the bed so she could pull my panties down around my thighs, then my legs so she could get them off. I moved a little higher up the bed so I wasn’t hanging off the end of it, and when she followed my movement I grabbed her hips and pulled her further, until her knees were resting above my shoulders and I was looking directly up at her pussy, covered only by the thin gusset of her thong.

Stephanie kissed me directly on my labia, her tongue parting me, teasing, exploring, poking at my opening, spreading me with her fingers. I reached up and touched her the way she’d touched me, feeling the heat and shape of her sex through her underwear. She found my clit, and I felt the tip of her tongue and then her open mouth on me, playing at first, pressing and flicking, then harder and with the flat of her tongue, lapping.

I pulled the gusset of her thong aside. I could see the dusky pink folds of her pussy glistening with her arousal, swollen and ready. I grabbed her ass and pulled her down to me, tasted her, seeking her clit as she’d sought mine, feeling her tense as I began to pleasure her with my tongue.

A head start and a clever mouth made it a race she was always going to win. The more aroused I got, the harder it was to keep a good rhythm, and the more I was just moaning against her. Finally, I just let my head fall back and surrendered, hips lifting and toes curling as she made me come so hard I saw stars, colors swimming across my vision, heat in my belly ballooning into my breasts and my face.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, moving around to lay down beside me.

“Amazing. If that was care, it was a little above and beyond.”

“I…yeah.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s more than okay. This not at all how I thought this trip would go.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

There was a long pause, and for a few horrible moments, I really thought she was going to tell me she loved me.

“I don’t think they’re going to offer you the position. There’s a local guy, a friend of Will’s…”

I started laughing. I couldn’t help myself. The absurdity of it. She buried her face in the pillows and made a sound that might have been her own laughter or just a groan of frustration.

“It’s really okay,” I said, wiping my eyes. “All expenses paid, beautiful nursemaid, and I didn’t really want it, anyway. Fuck my life. How long until my flight?”

“Three hours, give or take.”

“Accounting for security and the fucking traffic out here, that’s not long.”

“Not long for…oh.”

I sat up and rolled her the rest of the way onto her front, stripped off the thong she’d so courteously and tellingly put on over her suspenders instead of under. When I put one arm under her, she read my intent and lifted her ass off the bed, getting her knees under her.

“To thank you,” I said.

She was so clean and pretty; her immaculately waxed pussy and tiny pink asshole spread shamelessly for me. She was still wet, still ready, and she took my fingers into her easily.

No teasing or playing this time; I worked her hard and deep, and she was voicing her approval before I bought my mouth to her ass, tonguing around the rim of her hole and pressing into it as far as I was able.

Rimming’s not for everybody, but Stephanie’s enthusiasm surprised me. She moaned louder, pushing back towards me, then reached back with both hands and spread herself further.

The tip of my tongue wasn’t enough to get inside her, but it was enough fun pressing as hard as I could against the natural resistance of her muscle, then teasing around it, licking, kissing, before pushing again, fingering her pussy so hard my wrist was getting sore, but feeling her getting close, wanting to win this race.

She buried her face in the pillows again, this time because she was so loud that her mind must have gone where mine went – to whoever was in the next room. My hand and my face were so tight to her that I could physically feel her as she reached her orgasm, tensing for several breathless seconds, releasing, then again, almost reaching that peak, her whole body straining for it, shaking, tight like a clenched fist.

Then she fell forward, away from me, turning her face from the pillows, taking deep breaths. Her face was almost scarlet, a blush that spread all the way down to her neck, and enough hair had escaped her tie and clips to give her a wild look. I wanted to take a picture, to remember the comparison if I ever saw severe, all-business Stephanie again. Instead, I lay down on top of her, kissed the side of her face, sucked softly at her earlobe until she giggled.

“I hate to talk itineraries at a time like this, but…”

“I know. I’ll get some clothes on.”

When we’d got ourselves together, she walked me downstairs and outside, where the town car she’d called was idling at the kerb. The driver stepped out and opened the back door for me.

“Text me when you’re back in Portland, let me know you made it,” she said, attempting handler mode. She’d have made it if her hair wasn’t down, if there wasn’t still so much eye contact, an obvious suppressed smile.

“I will. And if you ever want to make the trip the other way, I’d love to repay the hospitality.”

She did smile then, the Hollywood grin that lit up her face.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

She was already walking away as I got in the car, and I watched her in the rearview mirror as we pulled away, disappearing into the bustle of a New York afternoon, a slim, dark figure in a long coat and boots, someone I’d gotten to know as intimately as you could and yet not at all.

“Good trip?” the driver asked, as we turned a corner straight into traffic.

“Interesting,” I said, smiling. “Interesting as hell.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/arc0nf/a_job_interview_with_a_twist_ff