- I have a proposition to you. - said the man behind the desk. The name on the silver plaque told George his name was Stephen Harisson, but the secretary at the front had called him Mr. Hare, which George found to be a strange nickname, specially for a man like that. Silver temples, impeccable suit. He seemed fancy enough that George had no idea why he was the one in charge of recruitment, because of the many, many (...so many) interviews he had gone so far, every recruiter looked just a little older, a little more well paid then the rest of the herd.
This Mr. Hare was certainly on a different level.
Yet George needed the job. His girlfriend was gonna be five months pregnant next week, and this baby was his responsibility. So he would put up with some rich, slightly weird boss, no problem!
- Hum, sure, shoot. I mean, of course.
The man smiled. Mr. Hare had a toothy smile, something that would look more at home in the face of a big cat then in the face of a human man. George subtly adjust himself in his chair.
- I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Davis. You have no experience, no education, and your skills are... well, misdirected if you want to have any sort of job security. But this company is not a bad match for you, if you are serious about learning what you can and try your hardest.
George, who was half squirming in his chair at the list of his failures, couldn’t help but shake his head like a willing dog.
- Yes, of course. I’ll be the most hard working here, you’ll see. Like, super hard working. And I’m gonna keep my eyes and ears open for everything. Like, to learn n’ all.
Mr. Hare smiled that sharp smile again. He was a good looking one, with that bad-n-rich vibe. George could bet he drove a car that was worth more then the entirety of George’s processions.
- I believe you George, I do. I have a feeling for people. But unfortunately, I also have a business partner, and he would question my sanity if I hired you on a gut feeling. It’s not good business practice, you see. But I can convince him given the right incentive.
This time George really did squirm, unable to stop himself. That sounded fishy... super fishy. He wasn’t gonna get into anything illegal for a job, he didn’t care how much he needed.
- I see you’re nervous. Don’t be. I just require a simple thing, really.
- ...What would that be, sir? - George asked, trying not to sound too rude. He needed the job after all, and if it was really a simple thing...
- You see, you’re a good looking fellow. Hood type, as they say. I like it.
George was ready to grab his backpack and leave, when Mr. Hare stop him. He didn’t hold his arm, per se, just put a hand on top of it, calmly. George was absolutely not sure why that simple thing stoped him on his tracks.
- Hear me out, first, will you? I promise, it’ll be quite painless, and you can still say no.
George sag back on the chair, leg bouncing.
- Ok. - Said Mr. Hare, reclining back also. - I’m going to explain myself first, and you’ll see what my situation is. I dedicated my life to this company, from age nineteen onwards. Miha Corp is my entire life, and I don’t regret it. But it also means not a lot of time to go out and meet new people. New guys.
“New meat”. He didn’t look embarrassed in the slightest, George decided, determined in his mind to say “thanks but no thanks” as soon as this weird dude finished his life story. But he was too polite to just go now.
- I lack human contact, sometimes. Occasionally I just want to see a body close to mine. Open, vulnerable. It gives me something to think about at night.
-Ok... - George was twenty two, he could see how people could find him attractive in a general sense, but this dude delivered all his lines like some villain in a soap opera, and George didn’t believe for a second a guy with that much money and those gray eyes could ever be this sad, lonely figure he was painting himself to be.
- So, how about you take off your clothes? I’ll remain here, on this side of the table.
- What?! - George automatically look at the door. It was one of those white glass doors, if someone pressed his face right at it they would absolutely see them inside. And this was an office building, totally public and all. But Mr. Hare didn’t even hesitate. He push a button on his phone on top of the table and called the lady outside.
- Willow, could you please hold anyone from my office for the next half an hour? I would not like to be disturbed.
- Of course, Mr. Hare. - the woman said. If she had any idea of her boss’ proclivities, she didn’t let it show in her voice.
- Thank you dear. - he stoped pressing the button. - We won’t be disturbed now. Willow is like a pitbull when I tell her I don’t want any visitors, she won’t let anyone in.
George couldn’t help but laugh at that. This was very ridiculous. This whole situation was crazy. He was gonna just go.
- Dude, you’re weird. - he couldn’t help but say.
Mr. Hare didn’t deny or seemed angry at the slip. In fact, he laughed too. A deep laugh that almost sound genuine for a second.
- I’m aware. But what about it, eh, George? You let me see you, just see, and you get a job. It’s pretty simple, right? And it would also prove to me that you are serious about being determined.
George shifted on the chair once, then again, looking around. There must be cameras, this must be a prank of some sort. But the office was pretty minimalist, like a Scandinavian house, and George couldn’t see where this creepy old dude could have possibly stashed a cam.
- Like, I’ll get the job for sure? - he asked, because hell if he was going to turn himself into some perv’s jack off material for nothing.
- I’ll sign your contract today. I’ll understand myself with Fox latter.
George supposed that Fox was the partner. If this one was Hare, he couldn’t possibly imagine what Fox would be like. Those kinky motherfucking rich people!
- And I just have to take my clothes off?
- Exactly. Just take them off for a couple of minutes.
- You won’t like... touch me of nothin’ like that, right?
- I’ll stay put. - Mr. Hare put his arms on his armrests and reclined more.
He had a baby coming, god dammit.
He could do this for his baby.
- ...’k. - George hesitated for a second, then he begun to pull the hem of his shirt.
- Please, I like to see you on your feet.
- ...right. - George pushed the chair back too hard, it made a silly sound on the floor, and he couldn’t stop a giggle of nervousness come out of his mouth. He shut it fast and look at the other, but the man was still smiling with close lips and an unreadable face.
George stepped back to the middle of the tribal rug that covered half of the room. He looked up, trying to decide if he could trust the man in front of him.
- On your time. - Said Mr. Hare, meaning “go on with it”.
It was best to get this over with as fast as he could.
George pull his t-shirt out of his head in a second, then stop trying to decide where to put it.
- Drop it. - said Mr. Hare, like he had envisioned this before. Or done it before. Probably the later.
So George drop it to his feet. He took a little bit longer undoing the button of his jeans, hands sweating slightly. “It’s just like in gym showers” George told himself. Even though nobody would stare in a shower, not like this. His pants went down, then George had to do an awkward balance to pull his sneakers with the jeans. When he steped out of the them, he was just on his socks and underwear. It wasn’t a nice underwear, just gray cotton, but when he met the eyes of the boss behind the table, he was looking at it with such hunger that George felt like ice had run on his spine, then someone light a fire under his face.
- Amazing. You’re even fitter under this baggy t-shirt. - he said, and George had the urge to say “thank you” but bit his tongue at the last second.
- So... tis enough? - George asked, knowing the answer.
- Afraid not. Only a little left, though.
- Right... - George trying to grab the elastic of his underwear, but lost courage for a second. He opt for taking the socks first, buy him time... not much but he was feeling sort of hot all over it in a very uncomfortable way.
“Just get over with it, fuksake!” he told himself, and briefs went down in a swipe motion, polling at his feet. Mr. Hare let a sigh.
- I see why you wear baggy pants now. This boy can’t be all that comfortable in fitted ones.
George halted a motions of covering his dick and tried to just stand there, like this wasn’t the creepiest thing he had ever done in his life.
- Thanks. - he said, trying to sound bored but coming of as the nervous ball of energy he felt to be.
- Can you give me a turn. - Mr. Hare said, a hint of glee in his eyes.
George only nodded and gave a quick 360º. If he did as he was told without protest, surely this would end soon, right?
- Are you a shower or a grower, George? - Mr. Hare asked, looking him in the eye.
- Hum... bit of a grower, but not like, a lot. It’s pretty decent size as it is. – So, this is not the type of information he should be volunteering, is it?
- Can’t argue with that. - Mr. Hare smiled again, turning his eyes back to his midsection. - And you have a bubble bum too... great combination.
George shifted on his feet.
- So... that’s all? - he asked, hoping for dear god it was. This praising and scrutiny were beginning to give him a nervous stiff, and that was the last thing he needed right now.
- Well, I suppose, yes... - Mr Hare came suddenly closer, pushing his upper body on the table and resting his arms there. - Unless you want to make some extra.
George had had pretty much enough of this charade already.
- Look man, I respect you n’ all, but I ain’t gonna let you touch me, alright?!
- Oh no, I promised you. I’ll remain on this side of the table. But... - He open the top drawer and pull a literal roll of money out of it. Like an honest to God rolled stash the thickness of a wrist. George nearly gasped. – I’d like to see that bit of a grow on you. Really like that, in fact. I’ll give you five hundred if you show me.
Five hundred could buy the baby a crib. And a good beer to forget this whole thing. But really, Wiki-How articles had never prepared him for how to rub one in a job interview!
- I... I don’t know man. This is kinda fucked up.
The only response of Mr. Hare was to pull five benjamins out of his wad of cash and put on the table with a basic “Your choice” statement.
Gosh, he really needed a beer after this.
The worse part was that it wasn’t ever difficult. George was already a little ways anyway, and a few tugs under the laser gaze of that man was enough to find that tingle of pleasure that meant that he had something to focus on. He closed his eyes, not really thinking, but as soon as he did Mr. Hare’s voice came.
- Keep your eyes open, please. I like them.
So George kept them open, tugging slowly at his dick, seeing his hand go up and down and his dick begun to fill with blood. This was nice, actually. Being seeing like that. Admired. It was kinda hot if George didn’t think too much about the perverted fuck up situation he was in. He risked a look up and saw that one of Mr. Hare’s hands had gone under table, even if he couldn’t see any movement. Fuck... he was being live porn for this dude!
- That’s... that’s kinda it. Can’t get bigger. - George said. His dick was sort of pointing right to the man in the table, long and dark.
- I bet you can... - said Mr. Hare, voice graver and lower. - I bet that if you tell me one of your fantasies, you can get harder.
- My... fantasies? No I... they are all with girls. You know. I’m straight.
- And I’m bisexual. Girl fantasy works for me too. - He laughed when George made a confused expression with his face. - Never met a bisexual man before?
- I... don’t know, probably have, but they didn’t tell me.
- Good answer. So... fantasy?
- I don’t know dude. This kind of thing is very personal.
- I see... yes, of course. Silly me. Asking too much of you. Giving nothing in return.
He had been playing with the roll of cash with the hand that was still on the table. But in no time, he undid the binding and pull another five hundred quids, putting them on top of the others.
- How about this? Half a salary, just for you to tell me a story. But it’s your choice, of course.
Hell, this would really come in handy. Izabelle needed some expensive pills now, folic acid this, vitamin that. That could keep her set for a while. Or maybe they would pay a rent in advance, not have that bastard of their landlord banging on their door for once.
- I, ah... I think about my girlfriend. Izzy. She’s having my baby . She’s nice, but she’s old fashioned... If you’re dating her, you’re dating only her. Can’t look at other woman, can’t watch porn. But she has this friend... Riona. One smoking hot chick, that one. Dark skin, gray eyes, big hair, ya know? Really hot. - George wasn’t sure when his hand had come back to his dick, but there she was, rubbing with more enthusiasm then before.
“Anyway, Izzy is this milky white color, all blond and all. When they’re together, ya know, talking on the living room or choosing dresses to go out... they look so fucking hot together. I keep imagining them sucking my dick at the same time, sitting on my face. They are bossy, both of them... I kinda... I like bossy girls.”
There was a downright predatory smile on Mr. Hare’s face now. And yes, a light movement under the table. And George thought to himself that he had walked into this one all by himself, telling his future pervert boss he was into “bossy girls”. He was a complete idiot most of the time, but horniness and embarrassment made him ten times more stupid then normal.
- In your fantasies, do they... those bossy girls... they touch each other?
- Oh, yeah... - George hold the base of his dick, squeeze, felt a rush of blood on the tip. - They do, yeah, a lot. They tell me to lie still and begin to fuck on top of me. Well, in my head, they do. Not like... in real life.
- I understand how fantasies work, Mr. Devis. - Mr. Hare’s arm was lazily moving up and down under the table, and then George heard the distinct noise of a zipper being open. - What else do they tell you to do?
George didn’t like where this was going. He enjoyed his fantasies in the privacy of his mind, and had conditioned himself to jerk off to them quickly in the shower. Meaning now his dick was pretty much sure he was going to come in the near future. Except George really, really didn’t think this was a good idea.
- I, hum... Mr. Harisson, I...
- Do they tell you to hold it, while they ride you? Do they forbid you to come until they do?
Jesus! That would be incredibly hot, George decided, pumping his dick twice while the mental image unfold on his mind. Oh, fucking hell, he’d better get this fucking job after all of this!
- They do now. - he decided to say, and his voice was a lot hoarser than he’d expect. Mr. Hare’s voice sound slightly breathless when he spoke again.
- Are you horny right now, Mr. Davis? Really horny?
- I bet you would like to come. You are touching yourself like you’re about to jizz all over my expensive rug. I shouldn’t let you do that to my cleaning staff.
“It’s your fucking fault if I do!” George wanted to say, but he held his tongue in the last minute, deciding instead to drop his hand by the side of his body. His dick protested, jutting up, and George had to stiff a moan of disappointment (and if he was going to be honest with himself, a moan that had nothing to do with disappointment).
- I didn’t say you should stop, Mr. Davis. Just don’t come. Not yet.
The man was jerking off in earnest now, his hand going up and down under the desk unmistakably, but not fast. He was enjoying himself.
- I shouldn’t be doing this, sir. - George nearly huffs, digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from touching again. - I’m not... this is fucked up.
Mr. Hare’s hand stops for a moment, and he looks George in the eyes with such intensity Goerge feels is face burn. Then he smiles, barely, unrolls the wad of cash once more, and fishes another five greens out of it. He doesn’t even say anything, just puts it on the top of the pile. George bites his lower lip, feeling dazed and horny and confused.
- ...still. - he practically whispers. - I mean...
- You got this far, Mr. Davis... you and your beautiful cock, proving all of your determination to me... - Mr. Hare push the pile of cash further into George’s direction. - Come closer. I promise I won’t touch you.
George only realized he was obeying when he found himself nearly touching the edge of the table with his thighs. He looked down at Mr. Hare, but felt like he was looking up. The man relaxed into his chair, and from this position George could almost see his dick, could definitely see his lower arm stroking lazily up and down.
- Cover the tip with your palm, press it down. - Mr. Hare said, and George did it. Holly fucking shit, he needed to come!
- I like your moans almost as much as I like your cock. - Mr. Hare said, those icy eyes looking directly at George’s face. - Run both hands on the sides, slowly... you can let the tip of your fingers brush the underside. But lightly.
It was a wonderful torture, George decided, as he obeyed the man. Usually he would just pump it and try to cum as fast as possible, because usually Izzy didn’t approve of him jerking when he could be fucking her. But this, being told what to do, having all control but at the same time no control at all... George had never had any fantasies with guys before but he found himself thinking that Mr. Hare would be in his spank bank for a very long time after today.
- How badly do you want more pressure on your dick? - Mr. Hare asked, in a husky tone of voice.
- Real bad. Real fucking... can I just...? Please?
- Oh, and you ask permission! I’m so impressed with you, Mr. Davis! - There was a large sharp smile on the face of the older man, and George realized he was genuinely satisfied. His hand was going just a tiny bit fast now, and George envied him for being able to do that, forgetting completely he could too if he really wanted. It seemed like it was imperative to obey Mr. Hare until the end of... this thing. As long as the man kept him hands to himself, that was.
- ... please? - he repeated, voice small, hands still lightly teasing his glans, feeling jittery all over.
- Yes, but very slowly. - Mr. Hare pushed his chair a little more, and George could see a hint of skin down there, although he dick was mostly hidden under the flaps of the gray shirt. - Go as slow as you can. Think about Izzy and Riona, their hands fucking each other while you only have the pressure of their thighs on top of you, teasing your dick and your balls but not enough.
- Shit... - George had to fight every single masturbatory instinct he had since middle school to obey this particular order. His left hand pressed the base of his cock while the right went up, and then down, with the counting of seconds and seconds. He was beginning to sweat.
- When one of them takes pity on you, finally puts her mouth on you... how would that feel, Mr. Davis?
- Like fucking heaven on earth! - George feels himself getting closer, even with the slow pace, feel the tightening and tingling sensation on his legs and his balls. - I need to cum, Mr. Harisson, please!
The man fishes a whiskey glass from one drawer, and puts it on the table in front of George. He had a smile of his lips and large pupils that makes his eyes look darker.
- On the glass, Mr. Davis. You will clean what falls out of it with your mouth.
Shit, shit, that so wrong and hot at the same time and George finds himself pumping fast, then faster, praying to hit the glass but totally unsure if he would be able to control any of it. He feels his orgasm getting closer with the seconds, his stomach tight, and he looks up to see his future boss matching his speed, the fabric of his shirt bunching up and down as he fucking his closed wrist.
- Shit, I’m...! - George aims, but the first spur lands too far, in the middle of the table. The second and the third go into the cup, but George is shaking and his legs are too weak for him to notice it right away.
Eventually George had to take his hand out of his dick and put both on the edge of the table, and take a deep breath to come back to the present.
- Gorgeous... - he hears the breathless moan and raises his eyes to Mr. Hare, who is still fucking his own hand with enthusiasm. Suddenly George feels like he really should go and give the man a hand. It would be only fair, after all this. But then his eyes land of the cum on the table, and he should clean this up like he was told to do before, so he lowers his mouth and licks.
It isn’t news, he had done it before once or twice in his life. Eat his own cum was probably something every guy did it even though nobody talked about it. But he must have done a good job because he heard a strangled moan from above and raised his eyes in time to see Mr. Hare’s face open and his whole body shake.
George raised his body in a upward position again. He could see a wet spot growing on the dark fabric of Mr. Hare’s shirt.
The office got very quiet after that, with only the sounds of their breathes to fill the air. George’s dick begun to deflate, and his mind came back to it’s normal pre-horniness state. He begun to feel cold and awkward standing there, naked, with a bit of cum dripping from the tip of his dick. He wasn’t sure what to do now... grab the money from the table, get dressed and never come back? Seemed like a good plan, because it was obviously not a good idea to work on a place were the boss would ask for a circle jerk on the job interview. And there was a lot of money on the table. Enough to get him and Izzy going while he search for something a little less weird.
Mr. Hare seemed to guess his line of thought because he went ahead and pull another three notes from his ridiculously large roll of cash and put on the top of the rest.
- That was quite interesting Mr. Davis. - He sounded rough and satisfied, “like a cat with the cream” as nana would say. - You can put on your clothes now and we can discuss the terms of your employment... I’m sure you will find that we here at Miha Corp are very generous with your employees.
George went to the middle of the room and found his underwear, and put it on fast, and did an awkward little balance to put on his pants, socks and shoes while standing there. He was watching Mr. Hare by the corner of his eyes, and he saw as the man pull his fly, get up, grab a bottle from a side table, and come back to sit.
He poured the whiskey on top of George’s cum on the cup, and George felt his face heat once again. He shoved his shirt over his head as fast as he could and came back to the table, grabbed the money and shove it into is back pocket, all crumpled.
- I don’t want to keep doing that every day, sir. - he said, and edge of challenge in his voice. Truth was, George was a little afraid. The man could very much expect him to pull out once the papers had been signed, and George had to admit he liked whatever had happened now... but that didn’t mean he was ready to become some rich dude’s bitch.
- Of course not, you’ll be on the ground lever doing trainee work with the HR. I won’t pay you to jerk off, Mr. Davis! - Mr. Hare seemed to be offended at the idea, like George had specifically request it to be the case. George felt the sudden urge to punch the man, but he had a feeling Mr. Hare would just punch him back, harder. And then ask him to do it again while naked.
- Good. ’Cause I don’t wanna be paid to jerk off.
- Excellent. - Mr. Harris clapped his hands together once, then push the button of the telephone. - Willow, bring me the standard contract and the benefits list, please.
He let go of the button and hold the glass to his lips.
- Oh, and you might want to put on your shirt the right side out before she gets here, Mr. Davis.
And he drunk cum-laced-whiskey with a satisfied smile on his face while George scramble to get his shirt sorted in time.