The Interview begins

The bouncer showed me in, and I quickly put the voice to the body. Bulging biceps and a broad, muscled chest greeted me in as I caught myself openly gawking at this piece of meat.

"You must be Jane," he said, his voice a deep baritone that made my clit twitch and my nipples harden.

"Yeah," I answered after a short pause, letting the feeling of that voice wash over my body like I was walking through an electric fog.

"Ms. Killpatrick is waiting for you," he said. He knocked on the door that said "Private" and there was a muffled "Come in," from the other side. I felt my lip pout out a little as I checked him out a little more and I couldn't help but shiver as his eyes traveled down my body, stopping at the swell of my chest and the peaks of my nipples, as well as craning his neck to get a good look at my khaki skirt-clad ass. He noticed that there wasn't any panty line and I could see him trying to figure out if I was wearing a thong or if I was bare under the cotton.

"Thank you," I said and walked away, leaving him wondering.

Inside the small office was a neat desk, a meticulously arranged office, and a woman with copper-red hair tied in a tight bun, bent very slightly over a desk as she typed into her computer. She had thin tortoise rimmed glasses and her features were well defined. She was wearing a man's dress shirt and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. The bulky shirt was a size too large for her and it successfully hid some of her body and the over all appearance was strict and intimidating. She stopped typing after a moment, and looked me dead in the eyes.

"Jane, there are six other girls that applied for this job. Why the fuck should I hire...you?" she said, almost spitting out the last word.