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“Listen, Nick,” the interviewer said, putting down the resume. “On paper you’re exactly what this firm is looking for. But the partners aren’t thrilled about recent grads.” Nick fought the urge to rub his lips. A nervous habit, like adjusting your collar, which he also was trying not to do.

“In all honesty, sir —”

The interviewer smiled politely. “Call me, Ralph. I’m too young to be a sir.”

“Ralph,” Nick said as if testing the heft of the name. “You won’t find someone who’s going to put in more hours than I am. I fully expect to clear my predecessor’s backlog in two months. I’m coming into this position with accounts of my own, ready to integrate into the firm’s portfolio. I’m ready for this, Ralph.”

Ralph leaned back in his chair and Nick wondered if he’d come on too strong. He tugged at the sleeve of his charcoal suit jacket imperceptibly. It was the only fidget he would allow himself. He had to look like a man made of ice in order to get this thing.

“Maybe that was too —”

“No, no. Not too much at all. We like our newbies to come in with a little fire.” Ralph leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and folded his hands under his chin. “What if I could make you an offer today? None of that corporate white noise. Just two men speaking frankly. Interested?”

Nick shook his head. “Absolutely.”

“Good.”

Ralph smiled broadly and retrieved a piece of paper from within a desk-drawer. He slid it across the surface of his immaculate redwood desk.

“It’s a contract stating that whatever we discuss will not leave this room. A little esoteric in the wording, but it’s the last act of corporate ass covering you’ll be subjected to today. I promise.”

Nick looked over the contract briefly. He was no lawyer and it went on for paragraphs in dense, tiny print. He felt, as he pulled out a pen, like he might be signing his life away. Nick produced his signature and slid the contract back. Who wouldn’t sign their life away to work here?

Ralph looked it over and seemed visibly relieved. He moved the document to a drawer and returned his attentions to Nick.

“Do you want this job, Nick?”

“I do. Definitely.”

“Take of your jacket and stand up for me.”

Nick did as he was instructed. He took off the grey suit jacket and put it gently over the back of his chair.

“Should I sit back down?”

“No need.”

So Nick remained standing as Ralph look at him. Nick felt like his choice of a pink shirt under his gray jacket was perhaps not the best idea. He was nervous and he could already feel the wetness gathering under his arms.

“You’re sweating. Are you hot?” Ralph asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Would you mind taking your shirt off, Nick?”

Nick was shocked at the question, but tried not to show it. “My shirt, sir?”

“Ralph, remember?” he said calmly, “and yes, take off your shirt if you would.”

Nick’s fingers fumbled at the buttons, but he got the shirt off. He placed it neatly on top of his jacket.

“Undershirt as well.”

Nick’s found that his heart was hammering in his chest. How long had it been going at that rate? He pulled the white undershirt out of the waist of his slacks and up over his head.

“Just let it drop,” Ralph said. So he did.

“Excellent body. Firm abs. Nice defined pecs. Even your arms aren’t bad, but we’ll work with you on that. Now, your pants.”

“Sir, I don’t.”

“It’s Ralph, Nick,” he said, just a hint of reproach in his voice. “I won’t ask again and I have other interviews lined up for this afternoon.”

Nick nodded and loosened his belt. He pulled down his pants and stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor. He stood there in his socks and underwear, his nipples and cock stiffened against his will.

“Very nice, Nick. Nice cock, as well. Now don’t be shy. The underwear, too,” said Ralph.

Nick thought about the starting salary. He thought about the signing bonus. He thought about the condo he had his eye on. He stepped out of his underwear.

Ralph stood up at this point and Nick’s heart skip a beat. His blood was beating in his forehead. He felt faint. Ralph came next to him and sat on the desk.

“Put your hands on the desk and spread your legs, Nick.”

He did so. Ralph smiled and produced a pen from his breast-pocket. It was lacquered, gold, hand-painted with a Japanese garden scene. He pulled a squat, ornate bottle across the desk, Nick thought it was ink, but realized it was clear. He dipped the pen, still capped, in the bottle.

“Do you want this job, Nick?”

“Yes.”

“Start jerking off. Leave one hand on the desk.”

Nick hesitated, but before Ralph could chastise him, he began doing it. Jerking off in this stranger’s office. Jerking off because he did want this job. He pressed down on the desk and found that he was harder than he had been in some time. He jerked like there was no one watching. He hardly gasped as Ralph slid the pen into his ass.

What the fuck am I doing? He thought, but didn’t stop. Ralph slid the pen in up to the cap and then out then back in. Nick squatted a little and rubbed his dick head against the desk. It was swollen and red. Ralph slid the pen diligently in and out.

“I’m close,” Nick announced, surprising himself.

“Shoot on the desk,” Ralph commanded.

And he did. Thick ropes of cum. The orgasm nearly knocked him off his feet. His whole head went hot. His virgin hole squeezed tight against the pen. He thought of his starting salary.

“Impressive showing, Nick,” Ralph said, “so when can you start?”