I sent her this note:

Tonight will be relaxing, and exhausting.

You will dress for an interview for an office position. You will bring, on your phone (if at all possible), a photo shoot of your choice (a new one, that I haven’t seen) intended to persuade me of your suitability.

You will bring a number of pairs of panties, a couple of other pairs of shorts, and a few t-shirts.

And you will under no circumstances be late. We have plans that require you to join me at 8:45 promptly. Precise location to come.


“Wow and wow,” Isabel replied.

At the appointed time, I waited for her outside a bar, in a car. I texted her to join me.

In the back of the car, I interviewed her. I asked her questions about her suitability for the position, her enthusiasm, her experience. She was shy. The driver could hear. She didn’t want him to.

Shortly, we arrived at our first destination – a massage parlor, at which I had scheduled a couples’ massage. She seemed confused, puzzled. She wasn’t sure the place was legitimate. (It emphatically is.)

We undressed, but our massage therapists were delayed. “Would we like a hydro?” our hostess asked. “What’s a hydro?” I asked.

“It’s a whirlpool bath,” she explained. “Forty-five minutes.”

“Sure,” I said. The night would be late. But it would be fun.

We were shown to the very back room of the spa, a wood-paneled, dark space, with a huge whirlpool in the corner. We were told the light would change color when our time was ending. We were invited to enjoy ourselves.

We deposited our towels on the chaise longues, and lowered ourselves into the hot, bubbly water. My cock was hard. Isabel’s breasts, round, full, were pale. Her body looked exquisite.

I asked her to position herself on the ledge of the tub, and I dove into her cunt, lapping up the bubbles that had gathered from her brief dip, and focusing on her clit. In no time, she shuddered with her first orgasm, and I invited her to switch places with me, and her audition for the “job” began in earnest. She lowered her mouth onto my cock, licking, flicking, tickling, sucking it enthusiastically, if a little abashedly. She pulled her head back: “What if someone walks in?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure they won’t,” I reassured her.

They didn’t. More sucking. More licking. She came again, I think. We showered. We got in the tub again. We showered again.

And finally, the light started to change colors….


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