by Corgan, Sky
James threads his fingers through my long blonde hair, and I wait for the anticipated bite of pain that will come when he tightens his grip and forces me forward. Even though I'm trying my best not to hesitate, the apprehension is there while my mind and heart try to process what this will do to me. Every second is a choice. Keep going and potentially secure my future, make a better life through the sacrifice of my body. Or go back, pull away, ruin this chance, and take the slow path.
I could always get a job at a diner or grocery store or something. Maybe I could make enough money to cover my rent. My education would have to be put on the back burner though, likely for years. Perhaps I'd be stuck working at a crappy minimum wage job for the rest of my life. The odds of me magically getting into show business are few and far between. It could happen but realistically probably won't. No, that won't do. I have to take the plunge.
And so I do.
The salt of his flesh dances on my taste buds as I close my eyes. James hisses in approval as I apply every dick sucking technique I learned throughout high school. My only two goals are to impress him and to keep my emotional barrier intact.
James does what all men do, wanting more, maneuvering my head by my hair. The pain brings tears to my eyes, and I look up at him so that he can see them, knowing that he'll like it. Men love it when they think their dick is too big for you to handle. I'm of the mindset that it's a pretty natural response for your eyes to water when something larger than the back of your throat is being shoved down it.
I fake a muffled moan, trying to show him that I enjoy this. It's so far from the truth, but hopefully he won't be able to tell. The four years of theater arts I took in high school are not going to waste.
My mouth makes crude sounds as I bob up and down on James' cock, lapping at the veiny underside whenever he's not trying to choke me. When he pulls me all the way off of him, I flick out my tongue to make circles around his slit, causing him to groan.
“So fucking good,” he tells me before forcing me down again. “Now suck like you mean it.”
I do mean it. I mean this blowjob to get me a job that will hopefully take me away from the poverty stricken life I so recently fell into. Thinking about it now, it's funny that I grew up rich. Who would have guessed this would be how I ended up? I suppose the joke was on me from the beginning.
I think about sticking my hand back into James' pants to play with his balls. Men seem to like that, especially when they're about to come. That would be too much of a hassle though, and if he ends up not hiring me—if he ends up just being a fraud—I would be mega ticked off for putting in the extra effort.
Instead, I wrap both hands around the base of his shaft, jacking him off while I slurp on his glans. His back presses against the office chair he's sitting in, and he cranes his neck, his Adam's apple protruding. If he was a normal guy, it might be sexy. I learned a long time ago though that the most attractive guys are usually the ugliest inside. James is a perfect example of that.
I'm not sure how long he expects this blowjob to last, but I'm already growing tired. I've sucked and licked and teased until my jaw has gotten sore. Now, I just want it to be over.
Come, you bastard.
I dive down, taking him to the back of my throat and picking up the pace. He places a hand on the back of my head, pushing me down farther than I want to go. I tolerate it, making tiny, high-pitched moaning noises. The more aroused I can sound, the quicker it will get his rocks off.
Of course, he doesn't warn me when his climax hits, but I've sucked enough cocks to know when it's time to get out of the way. His hand is like stone, holding me down, but I maneuver sideways, allowing his dick to pop out of my mouth and for him to shoot his load straight up toward the heavens.
He frowns at me between panting breaths, his palm finding a new purpose around his cock to coax out the rest of his orgasm. For a moment, I worry that I displeased him by pulling away. Hell, it's apparent that I displeased him.
Still, even I have my limits. Taking a shot of baby batter from a guy I met less than an hour ago is one of them. If he doesn't like that, then I suppose there's nothing I can do. It's not like I can turn back time and correct my mistake.
I resist the urge to wipe my mouth with the back of my arm, deciding to gaze up at him and lick the glistening sheen of saliva and pre-come from my lips instead, hoping it will inspire some sense of longing, making him forget that I just disrespected him by rejecting his seed.
“You taste amazing, sir.” I make tiny circles on his knee with my fingernail, pursing my lips and trying my best to look both sexy and innocent at the same time.
The discontent fades from his eyes as he catches his breath. For several seconds, he just stares at me, saying nothing. Then he reaches across his desk to pull some tissues from a box on the corner before using them to clean himself off.
I sit back on my heels, watching him, wondering if everything I just did was for nothing. I'm not sure what I'm going to do if it was. I need this job badly.
“You can stand,” he tells me, tossing the come soaked tissues into the trash.
I pull myself up shakily, realizing that the cold tile did a number on my knees. It's funny how you don't notice the pain that you're in when your mind is preoccupied with other things. Or maybe that's just me—how my brain works. I've been in some pretty painful situations and have always tried to look for distractions. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it just happens on its own, like now.
“Thank you for the opportunity to interview with your company, Mister Sumner.” I cross my hands in front of me.
“What did you say your name was again?” He arches an eyebrow.
The fact that he forgot my name is insulting. The fact that he's too lazy to even lean forward and look at my application, even more so. This guy is a piece of work. He really is. And I just realized that he screwed me over.
“Pepper. Pepper Kimbrough.” I hold my head up high, letting my disdain shine through.
This is the part where he tells me that I'm not what he's looking for. The part where I walk out of his office like the fool I am, used like so many girls before me. This is the part where I get to spend the rest of the night thinking about how much of a naive fuck up I am.
“Pepper. I hate that name. It's not sexy at all.” He shakes his head, finally pulling his worthless ass forward to glance at my resume again.
Anger is building inside of me. I ball my fists to keep it at bay. He thinks my name is ugly, well I think that he's ugly. An ugly, horrible, despicable, little man.
“We'll have to come up with something sexier to tell the clients,” he continues.
My mouth falls agape for a moment. “Does that mean I'm hired?”
“Yes. You can start work as soon as you complete your blood test.”
