Mean Job Interview - Ember Snow

He’s the one supposed to be in charge. Then she walks in. Ember Snow. Silk blouse, tight black skirt, legs for days. She sits without being asked and starts grilling him. Every question cuts deeper. He’s the one sweating now, blurting out better pay, flexible hours, anything to keep her talking. She leans back, crosses her legs, lets one heel dangle. When she tells him to get on his knees, his chair scrapes back like it’s got a mind of its own. He drops. Her foot slides forward, still in that patent pump, and she orders him to show her how bad he needs her. He kisses leather first, then bare skin. She peels the shoe off and feeds him her toes, makes him suck until his beard is wet. When she stands and turns, the skirt rides up and she tells him exactly what that ass deserves. He buries his face between those cheeks, tongue working while she rocks back, using his mouth like it’s already on her payroll. Every time he tries to breathe she gives him another order, another countdown. She’s not here for the job. She’s here to own the man who thought he was hiring.