Worst Interview Ever free porn video
A few days ago a friend was telling me about a bad job interview she had. As I listened I thought this was nothing compared to what happened to me years ago.
I had just finished college and was desperately looking for a job. College had not been an easy undertaking. I was from a small town and had to move to a city to attend. I went to class during day and worked evenings as a waitress. It wasn’t enough to pay my way. I didn’t want to saddle myself through too much debt. Eventually through a friend I found another job as a cocktail waitress at a club. The money was not much better. I was chubby when I started college. Being perpetually out of money to buy junk food eventually paid off. I slimmed down in my waist quite a bit, but my breasts and buttocks remained quite large. I decided to try stripping on amateur night, which went well. The manager had a thing for large breasts and was happy I was now a stripper. I was able to finish college with no debt, although my bank account was as empty as ever.
The job I was now chasing after college would be a blessing. I made note of the interview date, several weeks away, in my home calendar.
Days went by. One hot summer afternoon, I saw I was low on groceries. I usually spent time in my tiny apartment in the nude. My work as a stripper had given me a lot of confidence, so I also liked to be edgy and wear little clothing outside on days like this. I put on a tiny black thong, and then a floral print sundress. It was a slightly above-the-knee halter dress made of an airy, thin, light color cloth. It was cute and perfect for hot days like this. I wore it without a bra. The top of the dress was unlined, but the floral print was good at concealing my nipples, at least from a few feet away. The dress was backless, though, so from the back you could tell. I put on a pair of flat clear jelly sandals, grabbed my purse, and went on my way.
At the supermarket, I enjoyed the attention my dress caused. Women surely thought it was too risqué. Men gave a second look. In the dairy section, the cold from the refrigerators made my nipples stand hard, and they poked clearly through the thin cloth. I finished my shopping and took my groceries to the register. When I opened my purse looking for my credit card, I saw a letter at the bottom. I opened and realized it was the invitation to the interview. I had misread the date days ago. The interview was today, in half an hour!
I panicked. I really needed to land that job. I would have no time to go home and change. Cancelling was out of the question, I could easily lose the chance. I apologized to the cashier for leaving the groceries and ran out of the store. I ran the few blocks to take the train, then several other blocks to the office building where I was interviewing. The heat, humidity, and running had played a number on me. I was sweaty, and my airy dress was now stuck to my body everywhere. The office receptionist was nice, but when I told her I was there to interview gave my dress a disapproving glance. She took me down the hall to the hiring manager’s office.
He was a middle-aged man who greeted me warmly. I noticed he did give me a quick head to toe look with somewhat wide eyes. Damn. I tried to keep his attention focused on my face as best I could, giving him thoughtful answers and questions. I know he was trying hard to do the same, but from time to time his gaze would drift down quickly to my chest. The air conditioning in the room was not helping much. I felt that my nipples were hard and poking again, but dared not look down.
At some point he took me for a tour of the office. When I stood up I realized my dress had ridden up a bit on my back, was bunching a bit in the middle and stuck to my buttocks in a way that clearly outlined them. I could feel each cheek’s up and down motion as I walked. The guy opened a few doors and I could tell he checked my butt a few times. It was getting late and some employees were leaving, and I felt like everyone did gave me an eyeful. I pulled my dress down at some point when he wasn’t looking, but the damage was probably done.
We went back to his office. We discussed more specific things about work. He was somewhat concerned about some qualifications that I seemed to be short on. I did my best to explain how I would improve those issues or work around them. I noticed he seemed a bit less shy now about looking at my chest. He seemed concerned about the qualifications. I wondered if this was derailing my interview and did my best to assure him I would be prepared and willing to improve myself.
Finally, he got up, said “look, I like you a lot as a candidate, I am just concerned about what can be done about those deficiencies I pointed at. It’s great that you seem to have the desire to do everything to be a good fit here”. He sneaked a few furtive looks to my body. He pointed at the couch in the corner “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, give me a little bit and I will be back and we will see what you can do”. Was it a bit of a bulge I saw in his pants? He left.
I quickly pondered the situation. I knew I had a few qualifications that needed to be polished, but I could do fix that, no problem. That’s if he gave me the job, which obviously now was not a sure thing. He said “we will see what you can do”. Did he mean what I thought? Sex? Sex! He did look at me lasciviously, he was quick but I could tell…I saw there was a full-length mirror behind his door. I stood up in front and looked. The outfit surely gave him ideas...what you would call “professional”. The halter top was stuck to my breasts, the outline of the nipples clearly visible despite the pattern. The black thong underneath. The naked back. The cloth bunching around my butt cheeks. The somewhat immature strappy clear jelly sandals. Yes, this guy for sure wants sex for giving me the job. Think about it. “Make yourself comfortable”, the oldest euphemism in the world. Do I really need the job this bad? Hell, look at your bank account statement, girl. You are a few days away from rent day and no money. He is middle-aged, but athletic. If you would date him, you would fuck him. And you would date him, so why not do this to get a job?
I took a deep breath in and made up my mind. I had butterflies in the stomach as I undid the knot holding the top of the dress on my neck. I pushed the elastic waist down and the dress slid to my feet. I picked it up, folded it and put it in my purse. Better not have it torn or stained with body fluids unnecessarily. I took of my thong and put it together with the dress. I had not trimmed my pubes in weeks and I was very hairy. I really hoped he was into hair... I decided to keep my jelly sandals on, for some reason I felt less nude with them on.
A few minutes passed. I heard footsteps. I held my breath, stroke a sexy pose with my hand on the sofa, and smiled provocatively. The door opened. My jaw dropped to the floor and I froze. The hiring manager, AND THE LADY WHO CAME WITH HIM had the same, maybe worse expression of wide open eyes, slacked jaw, bewilderment. It felt like my clothes were a mile away.
“Marla…this is Mary, our training manager…why…why are you naked?!!”
I of course did the thing we are conditioned to do, put a hand on my crotch and my arm across my nipples, like that in some way helps us be less naked when we are naked…I and said I was sorry, it was a terrible misunderstanding, could I have a minute?
They could not have left quicker. I don’t recall ever getting dressed that quick either. I opened the door and found them standing outside, quiet, eyes still wide with surprise. I was blushing painfully. I said I really had to leave quickly, would they be so kind to call me?
I thought I would die of embarrassment as I left the building. But, believe it or not, the following day the lady called me to set up a retraining schedule. I had gotten the job!!
I had just finished college and was desperately looking for a job. College had not been an easy undertaking. I was from a small town and had to move to a city to attend. I went to class during day and worked evenings as a waitress. It wasn’t enough to pay my way. I didn’t want to saddle myself through too much debt. Eventually through a friend I found another job as a cocktail waitress at a club. The money was not much better. I was chubby when I started college. Being perpetually out of money to buy junk food eventually paid off. I slimmed down in my waist quite a bit, but my breasts and buttocks remained quite large. I decided to try stripping on amateur night, which went well. The manager had a thing for large breasts and was happy I was now a stripper. I was able to finish college with no debt, although my bank account was as empty as ever.
The job I was now chasing after college would be a blessing. I made note of the interview date, several weeks away, in my home calendar.
Days went by. One hot summer afternoon, I saw I was low on groceries. I usually spent time in my tiny apartment in the nude. My work as a stripper had given me a lot of confidence, so I also liked to be edgy and wear little clothing outside on days like this. I put on a tiny black thong, and then a floral print sundress. It was a slightly above-the-knee halter dress made of an airy, thin, light color cloth. It was cute and perfect for hot days like this. I wore it without a bra. The top of the dress was unlined, but the floral print was good at concealing my nipples, at least from a few feet away. The dress was backless, though, so from the back you could tell. I put on a pair of flat clear jelly sandals, grabbed my purse, and went on my way.
At the supermarket, I enjoyed the attention my dress caused. Women surely thought it was too risqué. Men gave a second look. In the dairy section, the cold from the refrigerators made my nipples stand hard, and they poked clearly through the thin cloth. I finished my shopping and took my groceries to the register. When I opened my purse looking for my credit card, I saw a letter at the bottom. I opened and realized it was the invitation to the interview. I had misread the date days ago. The interview was today, in half an hour!
I panicked. I really needed to land that job. I would have no time to go home and change. Cancelling was out of the question, I could easily lose the chance. I apologized to the cashier for leaving the groceries and ran out of the store. I ran the few blocks to take the train, then several other blocks to the office building where I was interviewing. The heat, humidity, and running had played a number on me. I was sweaty, and my airy dress was now stuck to my body everywhere. The office receptionist was nice, but when I told her I was there to interview gave my dress a disapproving glance. She took me down the hall to the hiring manager’s office.
He was a middle-aged man who greeted me warmly. I noticed he did give me a quick head to toe look with somewhat wide eyes. Damn. I tried to keep his attention focused on my face as best I could, giving him thoughtful answers and questions. I know he was trying hard to do the same, but from time to time his gaze would drift down quickly to my chest. The air conditioning in the room was not helping much. I felt that my nipples were hard and poking again, but dared not look down.
At some point he took me for a tour of the office. When I stood up I realized my dress had ridden up a bit on my back, was bunching a bit in the middle and stuck to my buttocks in a way that clearly outlined them. I could feel each cheek’s up and down motion as I walked. The guy opened a few doors and I could tell he checked my butt a few times. It was getting late and some employees were leaving, and I felt like everyone did gave me an eyeful. I pulled my dress down at some point when he wasn’t looking, but the damage was probably done.
We went back to his office. We discussed more specific things about work. He was somewhat concerned about some qualifications that I seemed to be short on. I did my best to explain how I would improve those issues or work around them. I noticed he seemed a bit less shy now about looking at my chest. He seemed concerned about the qualifications. I wondered if this was derailing my interview and did my best to assure him I would be prepared and willing to improve myself.
Finally, he got up, said “look, I like you a lot as a candidate, I am just concerned about what can be done about those deficiencies I pointed at. It’s great that you seem to have the desire to do everything to be a good fit here”. He sneaked a few furtive looks to my body. He pointed at the couch in the corner “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, give me a little bit and I will be back and we will see what you can do”. Was it a bit of a bulge I saw in his pants? He left.
I quickly pondered the situation. I knew I had a few qualifications that needed to be polished, but I could do fix that, no problem. That’s if he gave me the job, which obviously now was not a sure thing. He said “we will see what you can do”. Did he mean what I thought? Sex? Sex! He did look at me lasciviously, he was quick but I could tell…I saw there was a full-length mirror behind his door. I stood up in front and looked. The outfit surely gave him ideas...what you would call “professional”. The halter top was stuck to my breasts, the outline of the nipples clearly visible despite the pattern. The black thong underneath. The naked back. The cloth bunching around my butt cheeks. The somewhat immature strappy clear jelly sandals. Yes, this guy for sure wants sex for giving me the job. Think about it. “Make yourself comfortable”, the oldest euphemism in the world. Do I really need the job this bad? Hell, look at your bank account statement, girl. You are a few days away from rent day and no money. He is middle-aged, but athletic. If you would date him, you would fuck him. And you would date him, so why not do this to get a job?
I took a deep breath in and made up my mind. I had butterflies in the stomach as I undid the knot holding the top of the dress on my neck. I pushed the elastic waist down and the dress slid to my feet. I picked it up, folded it and put it in my purse. Better not have it torn or stained with body fluids unnecessarily. I took of my thong and put it together with the dress. I had not trimmed my pubes in weeks and I was very hairy. I really hoped he was into hair... I decided to keep my jelly sandals on, for some reason I felt less nude with them on.
A few minutes passed. I heard footsteps. I held my breath, stroke a sexy pose with my hand on the sofa, and smiled provocatively. The door opened. My jaw dropped to the floor and I froze. The hiring manager, AND THE LADY WHO CAME WITH HIM had the same, maybe worse expression of wide open eyes, slacked jaw, bewilderment. It felt like my clothes were a mile away.
“Marla…this is Mary, our training manager…why…why are you naked?!!”
I of course did the thing we are conditioned to do, put a hand on my crotch and my arm across my nipples, like that in some way helps us be less naked when we are naked…I and said I was sorry, it was a terrible misunderstanding, could I have a minute?
They could not have left quicker. I don’t recall ever getting dressed that quick either. I opened the door and found them standing outside, quiet, eyes still wide with surprise. I was blushing painfully. I said I really had to leave quickly, would they be so kind to call me?
I thought I would die of embarrassment as I left the building. But, believe it or not, the following day the lady called me to set up a retraining schedule. I had gotten the job!!
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