The Interview

This is in a submission to the 750 Word Event for 2025. The text appearing after this foreword / the titles and before 'the end' is exactly 750 words long.

This vignette is part of my own picture prompt sub-challenge.

-- -- --

The Interview

by Emily Miller

-- -- --

"Thank you so much for coming in, Mr Balakrishnan. Please take a seat."

The austere-looking white woman ignored my proffered hand. I tried to not look too embarrassed as I sat down.

"My name is Grayson. This is Miss Washington. She will be handling the more hands-on elements of the interview."

Miss Washington was a pretty black woman, her skin was smooth and caramel-colored, and she had striking, large eyes with pale brown irises.

Both women were clad in conservative suits, dark in color, and each wore spectacles, selected from the more severe end of the spectrum.

Grayson began. "Penn Carey. Top five percent. Internship at White, White & Morningstar [1]. President of the ACS chapter. All very impressive, don't you agree, Miss Washington?"

Almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

"Miss Washington herself was ACS President at Harvard Law. Then she would have been on the Olympic fencing team as well, if not for injury."

"That's... very impressive too, congratulations," I hazarded.

"Anyway," continued Grayson, "none of your, if I may say so, very extensive academic laurels are the reason for your presence here today. I understand that you have other credentials. Would you mind apprising us of them?"

"Of course," I replied, "shall I?"

Grayson nodded and I stood again, fumbling for the fastening of my pants.

"Perhaps your jacket and shirt first, Mr Balakrishnan?"

"Right, yes," I mumbled.

I placed my jacket over a seat, undid my tie, and began to unbutton my shirt.

"Help him," Grayson instructed.

The younger woman approached me. She drew her immaculately manicured fingernails down the exposed part of my chest, and then expertly and rapidly unfastened the remaining buttons. She looked back at her superior, who simply said, "Continue."

Miss Washibgton dealt with my pants much more efficiently. Pulling them down to my ankles, she then stroked the material of my boxers, boxers that were beginning to struggle to contain something.

Grayson spoke. "This looks promising. You might be just the sort of man we are looking for to fil the... opportunity. Miss Washington, please."

At her word, the other woman unceremoniously lowered my shorts and released what lay within.

"Very impressive, young man!" said Grayson, "you may be qualified to become our first sub-continental associate. Let us proceed."

Proceeding appeared to be code for Miss Washington partially stripping, her flawless skin was a complementary shade to my own. If I had been aroused before, a lacy bra, barely containing her ripe breasts, turned me to steel.

Looking up at me, she very slowly opened her mouth and took me inside it. Then she was motionless, as if awaiting some signal.

Grayson spoke evenly. "The issue here is longevity, Mr Balakrishnan. You have the size, do you have the stamina?" But I also saw her shift a little in her seat, and there was a red glow on her cheeks.

She reached to an adjoining table and turned over an hour glass. Or rather, as she explained, a fifteen minute one. As she did, she also said, "begin!"

Miss Washington began. If that was the word. She was either a natural fellator, or had subjected herself to arduous training. Her eyes fixed on mine, she subjected me to an expert, oral assault of a kind I had never experienced before. Within mere minutes, I could feel fiery tingling building inside me.

I closed my eyes, and tried to focus. Her suction was so exquisite, her tongue work so precise, her elastic throat clearly more than a match for the outstanding physical attribute that had got me the "interview" in the first place.

It was too much, she was way too much. But I wanted the position. I wanted it desperately. I cleared my mind. I wordlessly began to chant to myself, 'Om Bhur Bhuvah Swaha...'

I glanced at the table, just a few minutes left. Miss Washington seemed to pick up on my hope, and upped her rhythm. I closed my eyes again, and focused on the mantra. With every fiber of my being, I tried to hold on. Just hold on...

But it was impossible. I gave in to her, gave in totally and completely, flooding her mouth with the thunderous flow of my aching expulsion.

Opening my eyes, the sand had not yet run out. I was deflated.

But Grayson spoke brightly. "You have the position Mr Balakrishnan. No one has ever lasted quite that long. We train our women well here. But that was a new record. Welcome to the program."

THE END

Endnotes

1. Now incorporating the previous businesses of Wolfram & Hart LLC.