Appeal to his basic instincts

Sensing a lull in the conversation you casually uncross your legs. As you do, your bare vagina, not 2 feet from Daryll's face, is exposed. You're sure he can smell it as well as he can see it. His nostrils flare and his eyes widen like dinner plates. You can read the panic on his face. He rises from his seat as if to head for the door.

"I'm sorry I—"

You interrupt him by lassoing his neck with your long olive legs. He trips backwards and falls into you, and his head slams against your pussy. You hold him there in a head scissors. His resistance is token.

You tell him he can still get this job if he earns it. His face is turning a little purple, and before he can **** out a response the phone rings. You answer it, giving Daryll an opportunity to escape. He is out the door before you can say anything.

The next candidate is on the way up the elevator. It opens and you prepare for your next interview. There is no knock at the door. Instead you hear very feint sounds of people in heated conversation form the lobby. You walk outside just in time to see the elevator closing with two people inside: daryll, and a young brunette matching the description of your next interview. You suppose he didn't have anything nice to say about you.

You're a little worried about what might come from this. You've been more coercive before and gotten away with it, but in those cases your partner had ultimately left the encounter satisfied. Still, a man certainly isn't going to the police or the better business bureau, and his word is useless anyway.

At least you have 45 minutes to yourself, not that you wouldn't rather have someone to spend it with. There is, however, enough work to occupy you if you aren't in the mood.