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The hotel lobby was sparsely populated. From my seat in the bar I could see all the comings and goings through the entrance. I glanced at my phone. The large numbers emblazoned on the screen read 11:59. I hoped Miss Jones was not going to be late. Firstly, because I abhorred lateness and secondly because this was the ninth, and final interview in three days and I wanted it over. The previous eight candidates were beginning to blur into one another with their well-rehearsed answers and pitch perfect references. Any one of them would make a most efficient secretary and picking one would be as painful as interviewing them all. The digits on my phone switched over to twelve at exactly the same time that a young, smartly dressed brunette walked through the revolving doors and headed my way. I stood up as she neared and offered my hand. She shook it with a surprisingly firm grasp for someone with such small delicate hands herself.

“You must be Miss Jones?” I proffered.

“Oh yes I am. But you can call me Holly.” She smiled beguilingly at me.

“Well Miss Holly…I mean Holly…Miss Jones. Please take a seat.” I was visibly shaken by her informality. This would not do. I offered her a drink as I had all candidates. They normally arrived nervous with dry throats and a sparkling water or orange juice settled them a little.

“Oooh, ok then. A gin and tonic please.” She requested with alarming confidence.

I strode to the bar as I had done on previous occasions but this time having to remember to place one foot in front of the other. Her drinks order had startled me. I was still trying to recover my composure when I returned from the bar. She smiled at me again as I placed the drink in front of her. I opened a folder and began reading but out of the corner of my eye I watched as she raised the glass to her perfectly formed lips and sipped the drink.

“Hmm,” bahis firmaları she started. “Tanqueray. That’s nice. Not my favourite but nice.” She began running her finger around the rim of the glass which was now lightly stained with her deep red lipstick. I started with my list of questions about her previous employment, experiences, qualifications but I am not sure I actually heard many of the answers. She had uncrossed her legs and leant forward to listen intently to me. He skirt, which was perfectly respectable for an interview had risen up slightly and it was impossible not to catch a glimpse of her stockings and suspenders. I caught way more than a glimpse.

Her answers to my questions were, as far as I can recall, impeccable. Her credentials were sound but her demeanour was somewhat quirky. I asked if she had anything else to add or ask me.

“One thing that you should know.” She looked me straight in the eye. “I do what I am told. Exactly as I am told. I don’t answer back. I take instructions well. You can rely on that.” I gulped.

“Then you need to come up to my room.” I said light heartedly. She briefly looked away. But then glanced back at me coyly.

“Yes, Sir. Absolutely”.

The next thing I remember was putting the keycard into my room door and ushering Miss Jones inside. Most things up to that point were a blur. But here everything becomes clear. I vividly recall watching her as she walked into the room. Her slight body perfectly framed by her long hair and high heels. Her tight skirt both hugging her hips and caressing her bottom. She turned and looked at me, throwing me another one of her smiles.

“I need the bathroom.” I stated as a matter of fact. “Help yourself to a drink, I shan’t be long.” She nodded.

I ran the tap and rinsed my hands. I splashed a little of the cold water on my face. What was going kaçak iddaa on? Who was interviewing who here? I had to gain control of this situation. Be in charge. I dried myself, splashed on some cologne and re-emerged back into the room. She had poured a couple of glasses of wine and was now standing in front of the mirror reapplying her lipstick. She quickly finished up and handed me a glass. She sat on the edge of the bed and I sat opposite her on the sofa. She brought her wine with her and came to sit next to me on the sofa. Close next to me. So that our legs touched. Her hand reached down and touched my knee, stroking it with her fingers. I placed my hand on her back right about where the bra clasped together. We held our positions for a few minutes, breathing in the situation and increasing the sexual tension. My heart was beating plenty fast enough and I could take no more. I placed my hand on the side of her face and moved it towards me. I tilted my head forward until our lips met. Her lips were soft and cool and they met mine in perfect unison. We pressed them together delicately for a few seconds then moved away. But they could not bear to be parted for too long. They reunited and stayed together longer. I pulled her closer as the intensity of the kiss grew. Our lips parted briefly and our tongues entwined. Flicking and exploring each other. We continued for an age. It seemed like an eternity but I wished it would never end. I moved my head downwards and began kissing her neck. She moaned. Not in a bad way. My tongue explored her earlobes as I nibbled her neck. I could taste her expensive perfume.

I stood up and helped her to her feet. We embraced and began to remove each other’s clothing. When down to our underwear I beckoned her onto the bed. I told her to kneel on all fours on the bed and she did so, proudly protruding her perfectly peachy ass. I ran kaçak bahis my hands across her cheeks. Her skin as smooth as Mulberry Silk, her bottom firm and fleshy in equal measures. I gave it a squeeze followed by a spank. Her head lowered and her back arched, pushing her ass higher into the air, almost asking for another. I obliged. Several times over. She made no sound but welcomed every strike until her backside glowed a pinky-red. I slipped a finger under her thong and was greeted with the warm trickle of female jism. Now she groaned. I pressed two fingers passed her pussy lips and felt her vaginal walls clench my hand like a vice. I moved them in and out and she bucked and arched more. She grabbed the sheets with her hands and buried her head in the pillow.

“Please may I cum, Sir?” She begged sweetly. I could not deny her. My fingers fucked her frenziedly until she screamed with delight.

“Thank you, Sir. Is there any way I can pleasure you now?”

I was way ahead of her request. I had removed my underpants and was now kneeling next to her on the bed. As she turned around, my rock hard cock was almost poking her in the face. Without a word, she eased it into her mouth. I was too aroused to have any finesse. I pushed my hips forward until my penis was fully enveloped and my balls resting on her chin. She gagged and drooled, her lipsticks staining my shaft. I grabbed the back of her head and pulled it back and forth. Her lips slurped their way over my glans as it began to glow purple and throb. She strained her neck to look up at me with her obedient eyes. Before it was all too late, I grabbed my cock with one hand, held her head back with the other and ejaculated. The first stream flew over her face and landed in her hair. The second stretched across her cheek and the remainder dribbled onto her waiting tongue and chin. She smiled beguilingly again at me and licked the creamy cum from her lips. Her tongue circled the head of my cock, cleaning away any excess.

“Anything else, Sir?”

“No, Miss Jones,” I replied, my body still tingling. “You start on Monday.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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