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The Job InterView
by Omofineboy
On a breezy morning, I had a call to attend an interview. I was short of cash so I borrowed a few Cedis from a friend and dressed in my only suits and proceeded to the venue of the interview. There was the usual Monday rush at the bus station so I stood a bit far from the bus queue hoping to hitch a ride. Not long after taking that vantage position, a sleek blue car pulled over and the glass wound down.
A man in his thirties, dressed in impeccable white kente dress spotting a pair of sunshades beckoned me to the car. I told him where I was headed. “Hop in, then,” he said in a friendly voice. I didn’t waste time, I entered the car. Two other guys came over but he declined to give them a lift. I thanked him profusely. “What are you going to do at GPP Communications?” He inquired in a friendly voice. “I am job hunting, if you must know,” I said curtly.I wondered why he should feel my business was the opening line for a convo.
He glanced at me and then smiled. He was a very good looking guy and he had a nice set of white teeth decorating his mouth. He had a broad nose and thick, large pair of dark lips that accentuated his dark skin. His features reminded me of my friend’s sister’s comment recently, where she alluded that any black man with a broad nose and thick lips always had a large ‘package’ down under. “Sorry to pry,” he apologized. “I used to work there before I formed my own company, “he ventured. Interesting, I thought. “No need to apologize, I am merely going there for an interview,” I said ruefully, after all he was just being friendly. “Ok. Well, I could put in a good word for you. The Head of Human Resources is a very close friend of mine,” he said with that smile still fixed on his mustachioed mouth. He winked when he said “close friend.” “That would be nice, but we hardly know each other,” I pointed out akwardly. “There is always room for us to know each other, if you so wish,” he said, his right hand slapping my left thigh in a friendly gesture. “My name is Musa Ibraheem,” I introduced myself. “You can call me just Joe,” he said. “Just Joe, nice meeting you.”
We both laughed.
“What is your area of specialization?” He asked.
The way he asked that question left something hanging in the air. Area of specialization, indeed
“ I studied Mass Communications ,” I said smoothly. “I read political science and Administration. While I was at GPP, I was a senior admin officer. But I branched out after securing a Masters degree in Digital Tech.” “That’s nice. My first inclination was to go into journalism but I am not sure I could cope with the risks involved. I prefer to be ensconced n a nice air-conditioned office with pile of paperwork and a good salary.” I said.
He laughed heartily and squeezed my left thigh. When I did not protest, his hand lingered there a bit.“You are just like me,” he said. “But I am very ambitious and I believe every young man should use what he has to get what he wants,”he said. “I have a good degree and I am hard working. What else could one do?” Stylishly, I moved my thigh away from his hand. I averted his gaze. “Girls sleep with men and get great jobs all the time, so why can’t guys do the same too?” he said in a challenging voice. We reached a traffic light and stopped. “I can sleep with a lady boss if she can guarantee me a good job,”I joked. “Who is talking about a lady? My close friend is as gay as day and a fine looking guy like you will surely score and wet his pants and if you can give him what he needs, that job will be yours.”
I pried him a look to see if he was merely joking or was being serious. His face did not betray any emotion. The lights turned green and we proceeded. “But Joe, I am not gay!” I exclaimed. “I never implied that you were. I said my friend is and that you are a cool cat. Why not just get him in the sack and get yourself a nice job?” I pondered over what he said for some time. “I don’t know – “ I began. “Don’t rush into any decision. Meet him first and if he asks, give what you can and heavens will not fall down,” he said with an air of finality.
He dropped me in front of the GPP stately building and winked, “Good luck” after giving me his business card.
When I was ushered into Joe’s friend’s office by an amiable buxom Personal Secretary, I was not expecting to see the fifty-something old guy that I saw. This could be my future boss. He was rather tall, bearded and when he shook my hand, his paw enveloped my hand. He had a deep guttural voice that rang in the room and I was suddenly unsure of myself and subdued.
“Joe has called me and said you were his good friend. How close are you guys?”he asked with a knowing smile. “We are close,” I lied. “Hmmm. So I guess he had been drilling you with his massive tool, eh?”He laughed heartily. I refrained from commenting. He continued in a lowered tone,“ But mine is bigger. You want to see?"Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and came around from his swiveling chair and stood beside me. He unzipped his trousers and pulled out one big mighty, meaty, black uncut penis that bulged my eyes. “Come on, touch it. It won’t bite,” he cajoled.
Like a zombie, I held the growing thing and right before my eyes, it stretched until it reached like twelve inches. In comparison, my six inches dick shrank inside my pants. I had never known a man could have such a huge dick. “Oooh, your hand is so soft, I could easily cum,” he cooed. I was so curious my eyes were fixed in the python of a dick.
He asked me to stand up. I did. He felt my ass. He grinned with his mouth oozing oil. This man really believed that his friend, Joe and I were involved sexually! The brazenness of it all!
“Wow, firm and round,” he said in a somewhat deferential voice.“If you give me a taste of this, I swear you will start work tomorrow," he said hoarsely. “But sir, this is your office.”I said in a voice I didn’t know belonged to me. My throat by now was very dry. “I have a Guest Room at Nyerere Boulevard. Meet me there tonight and we will play,” he said huskily, reluctantly caging his snake.
He gave me his number and asked me to call him at six. When I asked about the interview, he smile cheekily and responded: “The interview begins at 6pm and ends before 10pm. If you score high, you start work tomorrow.”
He brought out his wallet and gave me some crispy notes. I left that office with a million thoughts. I am as straight as a bow. But I am also as ambitious as Donald Trump. I cogitated over my options. Would one night of sex with a man make me gay? What of the fact that if he gives me the job I then become his bitch to be fucked by him and maybe passed around to his ‘close friends’ like Just Joe? My mind was in turmoil by the time I got home. I really don’t fancy my virgin, straight ass bulldozed by that gargantuan cock. Ah, it can’t even fit in my a-hole, I fretted. My hand barely wrapped around the girth. If that cock pummeled me, I would never walk straight (excuse the pun) again!
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