He's impressed

After the interview, Sam's uncle pulls him into the editing booth. He had watched the whole thing live, and the video was still played at different points on several screens all over the wall in front of him. He stared at them very soberly as he spoke.

"You know you fucked up the money shot, right?" he grunted.

"Y-yes, sir..." Sam nodded. He still wasn't sure what he was supposed to have done, but he knew that cumming all over himself was definitely not it.

"Other than that," the serious older man sighed heavily through his nose, ruffling his bushy mustache, "good job. Your rapport was natural, you kept her talking without saying too much yourself, and covered up your mistake well enough letting her lick it off of you like that. I think we'll keep you around."

"Thank you, sir!" Sam shook his uncle's hand eagerly, "I promise I will not let you down. That was one of the greatest experiences I've ever had, and I can't wait for my next job."

Sam's uncle snorted a couple of times, which might've been his version of a laugh. "You'll have to, but just until tomorrow. Hit the showers, have a Gatorade, and head home -- I want you here first thing in the morning; I'm gonna book you in for a full shift."

"Yes, sir! I swear, I'll never be late again in my life."

Sam left the booth to find a very different green room to the one he'd been ushered quickly through before. There were still the mirrors and make-up chairs, but to one side was a row of women, some kneeling, some on all fours, all nude. They must have been fluffers; if an erection was a compliment, then certain Hollywood divas probably got pretty pissy if their interviewer couldn't get it up.

At the far end of that wall was an open, tiled doorway like you'd see in a locker room. Sam figured that was the shower his uncle had mentioned. He slipped inside and rinsed himself off; he hadn't really done all that much, but there was a sticky film of spit and jizz across his chest. The hot water also helped him calm his mind and accept his new reality.

He was getting paid to jerk off to celebrities right in front of them. He could stare at them all he wanted, ask them any perverted question that came to mind, and his own uncle was paying him to do it! This was his freaking job!

Where was he supposed to cum, though? He'd have to do some research tonight.

Leaving the shower, Sam found a locker with his name on it and the clothes he'd worn to work folded neatly inside. He got dressed, grabbed a Gatorade from a communal fridge nearby, and hurried home.