HER Resume

MORGAN

The tip of his tongue rolls over my clit with just enough pressure that has me begging for more. I tangle my fingers in his gray hair and push his head deeper into my pussy until his breath hardens. I let go of him and he looks up at me with his fiery eyes. Pissing him off only turns him on more.

Burying his face between my legs again, it only takes a few more licks and nibbles on my clit before I begin to feel the sensation crawl up my thighs to my waist. The buildup is there, but I can’t come. I’ve got an important day ahead of me and my thoughts are muddled.

I take a deep breath, drawing my mind blank and clear my thoughts, letting just the physical feelings take over my body.

I roll my waist, matching the ripple of his tongue. Each lick causes an ache inside of me. I relax my thighs and blow out a deep breath, my mind numbing. My waist begins to jerk around, and my thighs shake as the juices spill out from me.

He doesn’t come up for air. His mouth is still clamped to my pussy, sucking me until he tastes every drop of my wetness.

“Fuck! I needed that,” I scream.

“Seeing you come first thing in the morning is something I could get used to.” Henry moves his body next to mine, offering a sense of security that I admire about him. I roll to my side, watching him catch his breath with a big smile across his face.

I’m not in love with the man next to me. This isn’t a love story. The man whose face was just buried in my pussy is a business associate. He’s a means to an end; nothing more. I make him happy in bed and in return he helps my career.

My phone on the nightstand begins to vibrate, cutting into the intimate moment. I roll over to see the call is from my mother. I’m in no mood to talk to her right now.

Lately, every call from her is a constant nagging about finding a husband and having kids. She doesn’t understand my life choices. I want a career and settling down isn’t part of my plan at the moment.

When I decline her call, she begins to send me a stream of text messages. ’Just checking in,’ she types. ’What are you doing?’ ’Have you been out on any dates lately?’

Maybe I should answer her. ’Don’t worry, Mom. I’m with a man right now. He’s a good one. Only a few years older than you, too.’

That would cause her a heart attack. My mother annoys me, but I don’t want to kill her.

Henry wraps his hand around me, pulling me back onto the bed. I silence her messages when I finally notice the time.

“Shit!” I jump out of bed and hurry to the bathroom. I’ve got less than ten minutes to shower and get dressed.

My body is still damp when I finish putting on my makeup. I apply a pink lipstick I bought this week, something shiny. It’s probably not the most professional color, but it will do. I make eye contact with Henry in the mirror, his eyes fixated on me. “What?” I ask him.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growls, rubbing his hand against the blanket. I can see his hardened cock pressing against the comforter. “I could go for round two.”

For a man thirty years older than me, he sure can fuck. That’s been part of the fun. I’m pretty sure he’s taken one of his pills this morning, but he’s going to have to finish alone. Or call another girl over. Either way, I don’t care.

“You know I have an appointment.” I lean against the bed, putting on my expensive high heels that he bought me on a recent shopping spree.

I grab the brown folder off the nightstand and lean over him. “Thank you, baby,” I purr.

He stands, bringing his body to mine. Gripping my chin, he forces me to look at him. “You’ll do great. Just relax and remember to be confident,” he reassures me.

“Thank you.” I press my mouth against his, tasting my cum on his lips.

I run out of the hotel room with the folder tightly in my grip. It’s the reason why I came to see Henry this morning. The orgasm… Well, that was a bonus.

Once in the elevator, I place a breath mint in my mouth and touch up my lipstick with my finger. I give myself a look in the mirrored wall. A short black skirt and a white buttoned blouse that shows the top of my cleavage with a lacy black bra was today’s outfit choice.

My nerves kick in and I’m starting to second guess everything from my outfit, today’s appointment, to the details in the folder. Today might be the start of a new chapter in my career. “I’m ready,” I mumble to myself, trying to sound confident as I step out of the elevator.

I’m a few blocks away and opt to hurry down the street by foot to the building at the edge of the city. My feet are aching. Maybe six-inch heels weren’t my best choice of the day, but they’re my confidence booster. There’s nothing I can’t solve without heels on.

By the time I reach the building, I’m a few minutes late. That’s not the first impression I wanted to make, but it’s game time. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and enter the building.

The office is busy for a Monday morning, staff moving across the lobby without paying me any notice. But I’m not intimidated. Just the opposite. This is what I’ve been working for these past few years.

The receptionist gives me a look over, not sure if he’s bothered by my presence or admiring my outfit. Perhaps a little bit of both. “How can I help you?” he asks, tapping his nails against his desk.

I hold the folder across my chest, reminding myself that I deserve this. “I’m Morgan Foss. I’m here for an interview.”