The Interview – Mike’s Adventures in Pornland Part 4

Quaint as it was Mike concluded that the VW Microbus was not his transport of choice. Michelle and Sandrine chatted in French in the front seats, while he was consigned to sit on the back seat over the engine. His teeth chattered as they bounced over the decidedly rustic driveway that wound it’s way towards the Old Hall Hotel at Southington.They had paid at the door and entered the function room where the disco was being held where he bought Michelle and Sandrine a drink each and promised to return when he had answered the call of nature. He followed the signs out of the disco and into the corridor that ran along side it. As he made his way to the gent’s toilets he passed a notice board, a hand-written sign caught his eye, “Concierge Required”. He stopped and read the ad, full time, wages far in excess of what he earned at the store. He made a mental note of the manager’s name then continued to his original destination.

In attempting to get back to the disco Mike turned the wrong way down the corridor and nearly collided with a woman emerging from a room on his right.

“Oh, sorry”, he apologised.

“That’s quite alright”, she looked him up and down appreciatively, “You were looking for the disco?”

“That’s right”, Mike said, but stopped noticing the plaque on the door, “Are you Miss Keane?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I saw your ad on the notice board and I’d be very interested …” he stopped, wondering if he’d overstepped the mark, been a little too forward. Damn! He could really do with some extra cash and he could have blown this opportunity.

Her face broke into a smile, “Well, that was quick, I only put the notice up this afternoon. Come in, come in”. She pushed open the door.

Her office was like a set from the TV series UFO (http://ufoseries.com/). High kitsch, complete with a white shag pile. She was wearing an ankle length white cotton dress, embroidered on the front. Her bottle-blonde hair was freshly styled, curly locks cascading over her shoulders.

“Take a seat”

“Thank you Miss Keane.”

“Call me Randi”, she purred.

“Huh?”, if it had been a film, Mike would have turned to a camera and smiled.

“It’s my nickname, I’m actually called Rachael but … it seemed to fit when I was at college”, she shrugged, “How about you, what shall I call you?”

“It’s Mike, Mike, er, er “Mike realised his surname escaped him. It was like chasing a frog, every time he thought he had it, it hopped just out of reach. Perhaps in this world he didn’t have a surname.

“Mike will do just fine”, Randi leant back, her bottom against her desk in front of the now seated Mike, legs slightly apart under her dress. “What makes you think you would be a good concierge?”

Mike described his customer service skills while Randi played with her tresses, winding them around her fingers. Mike’s mouth went dry, he should have been used to this by now but it was still a thrill.

“Well …”, said Randi, her words soft and enticing, ” … you sound like a very helpful young man, but your experience is not in the hotel business. But I see something in you I like.” She stared at his crotch, smiling at the growing bulge. “The question is could I use your obvious talents in my, er, organisation?”

Mike gulped.

“Do you find me attractive Mike?”

He looked down at his lap, then back up at Randi and smiled. Mike stood unbuckling his trousers. Randi slinked across to the centre of the office, her hips summoning Mike as he hastily stepped out of his trousers.

She turned and faced him, then dropped to her knees. As soon as he was in reach she yanked down his underwear and grabbed his throbbing cock. She sucked on his member like an industrial vacuum, consuming ever last inch of it almost immediately. Mike’s eyes rolled into his head, a stupid grin spread across his now upturned face. Her nails dug into his buttocks, pulling him towards her, ensuring his member was engulfed entirely.

Suddenly he felt his cock released. “Fuck me you stud!”, it was only his rising excitement that stopped him collapsing in fits of laughter. She turned away from him and dropped to all fours.

He lifted her dress like the unveiling of a sculpture to reveal two round, firm buttocks. He tugged her knickers down, tearing them as he did so. “Oooh yes!”, she cried approvingly, “Give it to me hard.”

Mike rubbed the shining end of his prick back and forth along her slit for lubrication, then lined up to dive into her pussy. He felt the tip begin to enter her opening, then come up against sudden resistance. “Aahh, not there stud. Perhaps later.”, Randi smiled and winked at him over her shoulder.

He withdrew from her anus and plunged into his intended goal, her hot wet pussy. “Mmm. Ooo. Aaa. Aaa” was the appreciative acapella.

Her hair cascaded down onto the carpet, forming a golden veil around her face. His balls slapped against her wet lips, the humidity ever increasing. Her straight arms suddenly collapsed, her face now pressed into the deep pile, muffling her moans, hair now spread around her head like a halo.

Mike slowed his thrusting, teased her with his cock, pulling out, tickling her opening with his swollen glans. She rocked back, attempting to slide herself back down his shaft. He pushed her away, gently, but firmly and slid out fully. He slid between her legs, rubbing his glans on her hot swollen lips, enjoying the friction of her thighs on his shinny plum. She gasped as he tortured her clit, gently stimulating it with his very tip.

He drew back, and with a grunt that was almost a roar slid into her again. This time he was relentless, she began to cum the sensation of being filled by him and his perfectly aimed thrusts leaving her no choice but to surf the orgasmic wave. He felt it, the pulsing of her pussy and the wetness that drenched him.

He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. This time he did roar and drove into her, cumming like an express train. She wailed and thrashed, feeling his climax, driven into a wild sexual frenzy. His pelvis stopped its rhythmic pummelling long after his loins were empty, animal reflex refusing to subside, even when his cock became so sensitive that it felt like the skin had been flayed from its tip.