Paul walked up to the building where his interview was supposed to take place. It was much larger than he thought it would be for a moderately successful, privately owned publishing company. It was twenty stories at least and took up most of the square block.
When he'd done his research for his application and initial interview, he found maybe a dozen authors who actively used Denton Publishing for their work, most of which were only mid-tier authors in the current market. All except one, Molly Denton.
Molly Denton was the reason he was here. It had been ten years since she had written anything, choosing to concentrate more on launching her own publishing company, but word was she was preparing for a comeback.
The job Paul was here to interview for was to be her new editor. If her history stayed true, part of her process was to hire someone new for each book she wrote. She then depended on them so much during her process that by the time she published she would credit said editor with a co-author credit. An aspiring author like Paul could literally write his own ticket in the publishing world with such a credit.
Entering the building Paul noticed the reception desk across the room. As he walked across the lobby, he noticed it was sparsely decorated but still gave off a very professional vibe. The woman sitting at the desk was a red head with green eyes, a rare combination, and very pretty. Paul thought so anyway. He dismissed his superficial thought as he approached closer to her and switched his mind back to the task at hand.
"Good morning, Ms. Amy." he said, reading her name from the nameplate on the desk. "My name is Paul Becker, I'm here for an interview with Ms. Molly Denton."
Amy, for her part, seemed far more casual about the interaction than Paul did.
"Sure, Paul," she said. "I'll let Molly know you're here. Please make your way up to the fourteenth floor and someone will be there to escort you to where the interview will take place."
Paul nodded and thanked the girl for her help and made his way to the elevators. When he arrived at his desired floor the elevator doors opened to reveal another young woman.
She was blonde, heavy in the chest, almost too large for her frame, and was slightly taller than him. Again, Paul acknowledged the beauty in front of him internally, but quickly dismissed his unneeded thoughts so he could keep his concentration on the interview.
Not only did he need this job to better his career, but he needed this job in general. He had been unemployed since graduating with his master's degree in writing and literature. A degree, as it turned out, that is utterly useless outside of the field for which it would be directly applicable. He was behind in rent and could barely afford to eat at this point.
"Good morning, Paul," said the tall woman, "if you'd please follow me? I will take you to the conference room where Molly will be interviewing you."
"Thank you, Ms...?"
"Just call me Grace. We don't hold to many formalities around here."
Paul nodded and stepped off the elevator preparing to follow Grace, but she just stood there, looking at him. It was almost like she was sizing him up or was trying to read something about him before moving.
"You're a lot taller than the last one," she said after another moment, then turned and walked away, assuming he'd follow.
Paul hesitated, thrown off by the random statement about his height. It was true he was tall, but not overly. She was taller than he would have expected too, but he didn't say anything about it. Their physical attributes didn't seem relevant. Ignoring it for the moment, he quickly caught up with Grace as she led him through the office space.
Looking around, Paul again noticed the sparse décor.
The interior designer for the building must be into the 'less is more' philosophy, he thought.
Grace came to a door and opened it, holding it open until Paul got the hint and walked through. Inside the room were only two chairs and a small table, which would make sense for a one-on-one interview space, but it was the type of chair that was out of place.
They were recliners. The kind like you would find in a guy's apartment on some 90's sitcom because they were too manly to own a couch. They even looked to Paul like they would swivel and rock.
"Please have a seat," said Grace. "Molly is currently in another meeting but should be done soon. Until then, the company lawyer, Cassie, will be keeping you company and getting some of the formalities out of way. Would you like something to drink, the interview process does take a while?"
"Water, please? If I could."
"Of course," said Grace.
She left and shut the door behind her, leaving Paul alone in a room with two out of place chairs. Paul reflected on the last twenty minutes as he waited. Everything he'd seen and done since entering this building was a few degrees off-center to him.
Before he could think about it further, the door opened and yet another beautiful woman walked in. This one was also taller than him but was brunette. She was much curvier than Grace, as well, which was an accomplishment considering the blonde girls impressive bust.
Tearing his eyes from the swell of her hips before it could be considered gawking, he watched as the woman held out a water to him while setting down the small briefcase she was carrying.
"Good morning Paul, I'm Cassie, the company lawyer." she said.
"Nice to meet you Cassie, and thank you for the water."
"Of course. You're here to interview for the new editor position with Molly?"
"I am. I believe you were who I spoke to on the phone interview? I didn't know you were a lawyer."
"Probably. There were a lot of applicants, though, so you'll forgive me if I don't remember what we talked about specifically."
"I understand. No offense taken."
Cassie sat down in one of the recliners and opened her briefcase, pulling out two single sheets of paper. Paul thought it to be slightly off, again, that he was now talking to the company lawyer before ever meeting the person supposedly interviewing him. He'd been on dozens of interviews over the last few months and not once had he talked to a lawyer, let alone twice for the same job.
"Before Molly arrives," said Cassie, "I need to have you fill out some forms. Nothing too out or the ordinary, just an NDA and a waiver stating that the company, or Molly more specifically, is not legally liable for anything said or done during the interview."
Paul was confused. "No offense, Ms. Cassie."
"Just Cassie," she interrupted.
"Ok. No offense, Cassie, but this is a publishing company, yes? You don't work for the government on the side or something. I won't be taken to some secret base and told aliens are real? An NDA and a waiver seem a bit overkill for an entry level administration position, especially before I even have the job."
"I can assure you, there is nothing untoward going on here at Denton Publishing. This is in case the interview doesn't go well. You will be discussing things about Molly's new book, and... other sensitive issues while you're here. It's important those things remain confidential. You understand, yes?"
Paul didn't understand. Any of it, especially why she emphasized the word 'other' the way she did. He added it to the weird list of other stuff about this place he didn't understand. Maybe he'd figure out what it all meant later when there wasn't so much on the line for him.
He read over the forms and didn't see anything out of the ordinary, not that he knew enough about legal forms to know if there was anyway. From what he could tell, one form made it so he could be sued if he talked about what was said in the interview, and the other made it so he couldn't sue if something was said or done during the interview he didn't like.
Seemed straight forward enough to him, and with only the feintest of apprehensions at the idea something would happen during the interview he would feel the need to sue over, he signed.
"Ok. Thank you much, Paul. That's all I have for you today, but if you get hired, you'll be seeing me again. More forms, you know? It's kind of what I do here. Among other things."
She took the papers back and slid them into her bag, standing up to leave. With one more glance at him, she smirked a bit.
"You're taller than those Molly usually hires for this", she said, and left.
That's twice now they mentioned my height. How is that even relevant? thought Paul. I'm not exactly ugly, but it would be surprising if my looks had any bearing on whether I get this job or not. Wouldn't be the weirdest thing about this place though. Why the hell are all the women I've seen so hot... and tall?
Paul wondered back to the first girl. The receptionist, Amy. She was seated so he didn't know if she was tall or short, nor did he get a good look at her figure from his vantage and brief interaction.
Disregarding that, Paul opened the notebook he brought with him. He started going over his notes and reread some of the articles and information he'd scavenged about Molly Denton and Denton Publishing, refreshing himself for the interview in case any of it would be useful.
Not long after, the door to the room opened again and another woman walked in. Paul stood ready for a handshake, assuming it was going to be Molly Denton. A few things about the girl hit him all at once.
First, if it were possible, she was just as, if not more attractive than the already above average looking women he'd met so far. She was brunet, like Cassie, with dark brown eyes. She looked older than him, and he knew from her bio that she in fact was older by a decade. Keeping with the tradition she was also taller than him, but not by much. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, which seemed very weird for this setting in his opinion.
He was wearing a suit and tie.
Finally, Paul couldn't help but admire just how huge her tits were. Magnificent was the only word he could find in his mind to describe how perfectly big and soft looking they were, even through her shirt and bra.
He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. He could reminisce about her dreamy bosom later. He needed this job, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get if he was caught drooling over his perspective boss' rack.
The woman walked forward and smiled with an extended hand.
"Good morning Paul, I'm Molly. It's nice to finally meet you." she said pleasantly. "Ready for your interview?"
"Uhm, yes. That's why I'm here. Yes. Job interview," said Paul struggling to compose himself.
"Great. I've been looking forward to this. Your resume was impressive. I especially liked the interactive website version you created, haven't seen that before."
Molly walked closer to Paul which caused their height difference to look more prominent. Paul wasn't embarrassingly shorter, but it was noticeable. Paul's neck might have snapped if he put any more effort into keeping eye contact and not to ogle her.
"That's nice of you to say," Paul replied, "most people I've interviewed with don't even bother to look at it. For whatever reason."
"Please, sit," said Molly, gesturing to a chair. She sat in the chair opposite the small table. They sat and adjusted until comfortable before she continued.
"I would imagine they didn't look at it for the same reason none of them hired you. Their old. You're not. An unfortunate characteristic of the industry, I'm afraid. Anyone young enough and talented enough to be an author, editor or publisher these days do so in some online format, not even bothering to go the traditional route. This has left a significant age gap. It'll correct itself in time. One of the reasons I branched out and started my own publishing house when I did. By the time everyone else is ready to modernize, I'll already be there with an army of young talent."
"Very forward thinking of you. Is that why you haven't written much over the last few years?"
"Ha," she laughed, a bit surprised by his candor. Molly figured him the type that would be too 'professional' to say something personal like that. She liked it. "Maybe. Among other reasons of course. Writer's block is usually caused by more than just time management."
"I get it. So the drought wasn't from lack of desire or motivation, was it of inspiration?"
"Of a sort, yes."
"Might I ask why now, then?"
"You can ask, but if you actually want an answer, you'll have to win the job. I don't share my art with just anybody. Enough about me, though, this is your interview. Tell me, why do you want this job? With your education you should be looking for something a little better than entry admin work."
"Like you said, it's a tough industry right now for people like me. I need a job."
Molly raised an eyebrow, "Is that it? You just need a job, any job? I must say it doesn't motivate me to hire you just because you need a job. Anyone else unemployed would need or want it just as much."
"That's fair," replied Paul. He took a minute to gather his thoughts before expanding on the question.
"You're Molly Denton," he finally said. "You were first published at the age of fifteen, which isn't entirely unheard of by itself. What was unheard of, however, was the reception you received. One-hundred and forty-two weeks on the top of the best sellers list, movie rights and eventual movie, and wide consensus within the industry that your first ever novel will be considered 'high literature' before you turn 50."
"Pretentious, but that's what they say," said Molly, "But why do you want this job?"
"Ok, then," he said. "Ten years ago, you published your fifth book. It was met with the usual praise and was probably well on its way to all the same accolades as your previous four books, not important in this context, I know, but there was one glaring difference between that book and every other one you had written. The main character was a man. It caused a lot of turmoil within your more feminist fanbase. When asked why you made this choice, you replied, 'It had to be a man. The narrative depended on it. Wouldn't have worked otherwise."
"And I spent the next six-months being attacked by every feminist in the country," said Molly. "Who knew I had so many fans offended at the thought there wasn't some deeper, political meaning to me using females as the main characters before then."
"Yet you never apologized or placated, which would have definitely been the correct move, professionally speaking."
"The book was still a success. Where are you going with this?" asked Molly.
"You cared more about the book more than you cared about the validation. You could have apologized, even though you wouldn't have meant it, and most of the criticism probably would have disappeared. If I'm going to work for anybody in the age of self-publishing, I need to work for someone like that."
Molly sat there and just studied Paul for a moment, she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed by the answer he was trying to push off on her. It was all bullshit. That was a nothing event in the life of her career.
"That was the perfect interview answer" she said. "You showed you know my history, that you studied up on my work and how it was received, you even added in a direct quote from an interview followed by an appeal to my artistic integrity. Very well done, all told. Too bad it's nonsense."
"What?" asked Paul, taken aback.
"I bet if I were to look in that binder you are pretending to take notes in, there would be a list of things you think might come up in this interview. Seeing as 'why do you want this job' is a common question, you probably rehearsed parts of that. Even your initial answer of 'I just need a job', was probably on purpose. Am I right?"
Paul closed his folder and pushed it to the side. "Maybe. Now it's my turn to ask where you're going with this. Anyone with a brain has some level of preparation for possible interview questions. Calling me out seems counter-productive to the format."
"Formats are dumb. Never found much use for them. Don't even outline my books before I write them. I find it too constricting and binds my creativity."
"I like outlines."
"I have no doubt. You seem the type."
"Something tells me that's not exactly a compliment."
Molly didn't respond to that, instead changing the subject. "You know, Paul, I don't usually hire someone like you for this position."
"Too tall?" he asked.
"What?" Now it was Molly's turn to be surprised.
Paul figured since this interview wasn't going to go according to script he'd lean into the trend of the conversation.
"I've been told twice since arriving that I am 'taller than those who are usually hired for this position'. Considering I have only met three people, two of which I know for sure are taller than me, I feel the observation may be significant."
Molly shuffled in her seat. It didn't play well that Paul might suspect his physical appearance is playing a role in her desire to hire him. Even women bosses had to abide by equal opportunity policies.
"Go on, anything else you've noticed?" she asked, moving away from the topic of his appearance.
"As it happens, yes. Speaking of the people I have met in this office so far, all three were women, which isn't surprising, but all three are above average in both height and beauty. It might not be polite to comment on such things in the workplace, but its overly noticeable. Like it was intentional I met who I met. It could be a coincidence and I just happened to meet the only three model-esque looking women on your staff, but I somehow doubt it. Even you look like you belong on a magazine cover, and you own the building."
He leaned forward and continued.
"What's just as noticeable, beyond the employees, is the building itself. There's hardly a decoration to be seen. Minimalist, if I don't miss my guess. The contours, materials and characteristics of the building itself are used to accentuate an 'air of success and professionalism'. Very modern art, but just as 'pretentious', to use your word form before, as it would be if you had million-dollar paintings hanging on every wall.
"This is all not to mention that I've so far signed away my right to sue and put myself in a vulnerable position for you to sue me if I tell someone you don't approve of something you don't want them to know. I've been chauffeured through the office, legally briefed, and now have been dressed down about my interview notes by an overwhelmingly successful woman who shows up to our interview wearing jeans. Not for nothing, but I'm beginning to suspect this position isn't exactly what the job board had billed. I'm confused and annoyed, but still very much want this job."
Molly had started smiling before Paul had finished his monologue. He was it. Just like that she wanted him for this position even if he was taller then she preferred. He was inexperienced professionally, most likely in other ways, as well, but not so much he couldn't be brought up to speed in short order. Companies always over-estimated the difficulty of needing to train someone.
It was that other part of what she needed from him that would be the real deciding factor. Now would be when the real interview began.
"Very impressive, Paul. And you're right, there is more to this position than you know. Though I wonder if you are prepared for exactly what that is. Tell me, do you know what a 'muse' is?" asked Molly.
"It's descended from Greek mythology; I believe they were inspiration goddesses. Now it mostly translates to mean the anthropomorphic embodiment of being inspired."
"Big word, anthropomorphic. It's not used often enough in my opinion."
"I would have said 'human' instead, but I've seen rock-stars refer to heroin as a muse."
Molly laughed at that before moving on to her next question.
"Ok then, would you believe that all five of my books have been inspired by what I would refer to as a muse? Five books, five muses."
"To write as well as you do, I'd believe just about anything you tell me about how you did it. And that's not me appealing your artistic integrity again, you being a great writer is just fact."
"Fair enough. How about this, then. Do you know who Samuel Khan is?"
"He's a composer, I believe, but that's all I know."
"Correct. But him being a composer isn't what makes him relevant here, it's the process he used whenever he sat down and wrote his music. He attributed much of his success to his muses, much like I do. He named his symphonies after them, in fact. As for me, I give them a co-author credit when I publish."
Paul was confused now, from what he understood, the co-author credits went to her editors, like he was hoping to be for her.
Molly continued, "Samuel Khan said he wrote his best music when he and his muse engaged in... carnal... acts while he wrote. Said he was his most bold and creative when he could feel their beauty."
Carnal? What the hell is happening to this interview? thought Paul.
They were veering further off the path of the traditional interview with every new subject. Sex talk was a big no-no in a professional setting. Too much about it could be misconstrued as harassment if taken the wrong way.
"I don't think I follow," said Paul, trying to feel his way through where this might be going.
"Sex, Paul. They had sex while he composed. I, myself, do the same. Every word in my books were written either right before, during, or right after having sex. My best work is during, though. Samuel Khan was right about it helping to feel something beautiful when trying to create something beautiful."
"That's... interesting," said Paul, "but what does this have to do with this job. From what I understand it's always been your editors that received the authors credit, not a muse. Unless you are suggesting that part of this job will be to have sex with you."
He was joking, but Molly didn't laugh. He was nervous her might have taken it too far.
"I'm not suggesting anything," answered Molly, "I'll tell you outright. Being my editor requires that we have sex. A lot."
Paul was way out of his depth now. It made the forms he signed make more sense though. If someone were going to freak out about being told he'd need to fuck their boss to get hired, lawsuits were a definite possibility.
His next thought came from his little head instead of his big one. This woman was hot. Would it be so bad if sex with her was part of his responsibility?
He needed to get a grip. His mind was racing. He needed more answers.
"That is surprising information. What if I say no and report this as sexual harassment, I assume that's what the forms were for?"
"This isn't the first time I've needed to fill this position. There is a context to this conversation that makes it legal. I haven't offered you the position, nor have I said that you wouldn't get the job anyway if you refused the physical aspects of it."
"It's been implied," replied Paul.
"Hence the forms. Just in case. I'm very selective and hate doing these interviews for obvious reasons, so hopefully this works out. You would still have the standard work load you'd expect if this were strictly editorial. There is more to writing a book than inspiration and creativity. You'd also get the co-credit, like the others."
Paul thought the offer was fucked up on its own, but now he couldn't shake the feeling there was even more to it. Another catch to the catch.
"You're talented, rich, famous, a legend in your field, and absolutely gorgeous. You could probably have sex with whoever you want, whenever you want, why hire for it? It doesn't add up. Where's the other shoe?"
"Depends on your view of things. There's more you should know, but I'm still gauging whether you're ready to hear it. I can't quite get a read on you. Which I like. Makes it more exciting."
"I'd appreciate if you would just lay it all out," said Paul. "This is all so far off-base from what I expected that I'm already tempted to panic and run away. Dragging it out won't do either of us any favors."
"That's fair." said Molly, hesitating for a beat, "I have what I call a girlcock."
"Excuse me?"
"I am a girl... and I have a cock. A dick, or penis, if you will, that would be involved in the aforementioned art inspiring sex."
This was the moment of truth for Molly. In her experience if she could keep Paul here, in this room, for the next few minutes while he processes this last piece of information, she would avoid the worst of the possible reactions. Knee jerk 'I'm calling the cops you freak' type of reactions were rarely pre-meditated.
Paul processed surprisingly well. He added it on to the big pile of 'wtf' that had been heaped upon him since arriving here and began trying to piece the parts into a whole. He took a long minute, figuring she wasn't going to whip it out and start trying to poke him if he didn't have something to say right away. If he was following all this correctly, however, taking this job would mean that's exactly what she would do at some point.
Has she even offered me the job? Would I take it if she did? This interview is so fucked.
"So... you're trans?" he said, reaching for any response that made sense.
"No, not really. That would imply I was seen as a man at some point and am now seen as a woman. I'm a born woman, two 'X' and everything, but with a man's appendage."
"Right. Hermaphrodite?"
"Again, not really. I don't have the lady parts. No vagina, you see. Just the cock. I know labelling this would make it easier for you, but honestly there isn't anything out there accurate enough to label what I am. Futanari might fit, though that's just Japanese for hermaphrodite, I believe. I would say 'dickgirl' is probably the best as far as pronouns go."
Paul was getting fascinated now. He didn't know dickgirls, or girlcocks, were even a thing in this context. There was so much going on. So much to think about, but the only thing on his mind was dick. His curiosity at the novelty forced him to want to know more.
"You'll have to forgive me, but I'm going to need to be a little more indelicate if we are going to talk about this," said Paul.
"I'm a female with a cock who just said part of your job will be to have sex with me, I believe delicate is long since passed. You haven't panicked or run away screaming, which is a good sign. I'd even go so far as to say I'd like to offer you this position officially, but I'm still not sure you have grasped what that would mean."
"You're probably right. Taking a job where your boss required you to sleep with her is surprising enough. I believe it's even against the law. Not that I could go to the cops even if I wanted to."
He paused.
"Look," he said, continuing. "I like sex as much as the next guy, and you are stunningly beautiful regardless of what's between your legs, but there is one more dick in this room than I had assumed at the beginning of all this, and I am just not sure what to do with that development."
"You've been in plenty of rooms with more than one dick before, that can't be new," said Molly, smiling at her glibness.
"Can I see it?" asked Paul. His curiosity had finally gotten the best of him, and he couldn't help but ask. She was essentially going to pay him for sex, in a way, so why shouldn't he push the subject of her dick.
"If you want," said Molly, not missing a beat. "As long as I can see yours as well."
She wasn't ashamed of who she was, and Paul should see what he'd be getting into. She owed him that much after the multiple small deceptions it took to get him here in the first place.
At the same time, she needed to see if what Paul had to offer was something she could work with. This arrangement would be mostly physical, so it wouldn't make sense if there was no attraction.
"Wow, ok, I think that's fair," said Paul, half not expecting for her to say yes. The part about him having to show off as well was unexpected, but understandable. His thoughts were so messed up and jumbled right now anyway that he probably couldn't even muster up the emotional insecurity needed to be embarrassed about stripping for a stranger.
"I know you have an idea of what to expect, but I think it would be best to provide female context before the shocking parts," said Molly.
She began to strip. Not just her pants, but everything. She started with her t-shirt.
It had been form fitting to begin with, giving Paul a good idea of how gifted she was in the chest. Standing there, now in her bra however, let him know quickly he underestimated her feminine talents.
Paul didn't know why Molly was showing him her tits since he'd only asked to see her cock. He wasn't about to complain thought. They sat on her chest like two melons ready melons ready to be hefted and flicked to test if they were ripe. The sudden urge to bury his face between them was overwhelming.
Molly watched as Paul's eyes became glued to her tits as she continued providing 'context' for him. Her intent was to get Paul horny enough that by the time she showed him her cock he'd be into it enough not to freak out.
She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor and leaving her naked from the waist up. Molly could hear Paul's breath hitch, then speed up, if only slightly. If there was one natural imperative Molly could always take full advantage of in her love life, it was that men loved tits. They couldn't help it.
It had begun out of curiosity to see what she was packing in the pants, some weird feeling he had that he had to know what a real woman's cock would be like. It wasn't about getting aroused or making it sexual, but it was sexual now, which he figured might be the point of Molly's striptease before she got to the weird stuff.
Get a man horny enough and they lose all clarity.
They both remained where they were for a moment, Molly standing topless and Paul still sitting in his recliner. They weren't saying anything, adjusting to the new intimacy. Finally, Molly broke the silence.
"You're turn. Take your shirt off," she said.
Paul nodded and stood. He took off his suit jacket, untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. The process was so time consuming, putting a lot of attention on him for longer then he'd prefer. He was suddenly jealous that Molly had only been wearing a t-shirt.
Molly looked Paul over approvingly. He had a long torso with what looked like natural muscle rather than anything he'd cultivated. She could tell he was a book worm.
She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and pulled them down. She was toned, more from effort on her part than a natural inclination towards fitness. She hated working out, but as she got older it became more necessary. Her legs were long and defined.
Paul was mesmerized. He watched as Molly undid her pants and slid them down her legs. She had to bend over to do it, which caused her perfect tits to hang down and jiggle as she went through the motions. It got even better as she stood back up. Her visage was amazing. She was tall, with every single curve and line you'd expect to see on a woman. One piece seemed missing, however.
"Uh, I'm no expert, but if you really had a cock, shouldn't there be a bulge?"
"I tuck," she said, "kind of have to if I ever want to wear anything feminine other than long, loose dresses or the like."
"I see."
Paul didn't need prompting this time. It was his turn. Just like Molly, he didn't stand on ceremony and quickly removed his pants, leaving only his boxers.
"Do you think you're ready to see me?" asked Molly, getting further to the point.
"If I'm not now, I probably won't ever be. Your tits are amazing, by the way."
"Thanks. I get that a lot."
"I can only imagine."
Molly wrapped her thumbs in her only remaining article of clothing and pulled them down until gravity took them the rest of the way. She stepped out and spread her legs wide enough for her cock and balls to fall and dangle in front of her for Paul to see. She was currently soft. Which was a relief to her, at least for now. She didn't need to deal with the shock of how big it was when she was hard just yet.
"Ho-ly shit, that's big," said Paul, not able to react any differently. The cock was flaccid, which meant he wasn't looking at its real size. He was more of a grower than a shower himself, so he had no doubt what he was looking at was a monster of a cock.
"Very," said Molly, not trying to downplay her size, "but I can assure you, whatever is playing in your head right is not how this works. Yes, sex with me will be uncomfortable at first, but only at first. It gets better."
"Better? Molly, you're soft and still almost as big as my forearm. Sex with you would tear me in half."
"Don't exaggerate. Besides, it's not all about me sticking my dick in various holes, I love everything about sex. I love to be fucked as much as I love to do the fucking."
"You don't have a vagina though," said Paul, confused.
"Neither do you, Paul. I do have an asshole, which is just a fuckable as a pussy. Just because I'm a woman with a dick doesn't mean I don't have all the other parts. I thought that would be obvious, you know, seeing as you keep staring at my tits."
"Yeah, sorry, just a little freaked is all."
"Understandable. If it makes you feel better, you're handling it better than most. Now show me yours. Let's finish this part up and see where you want to go with it next."
Paul took off his boxers. Unlike Molly, however, he was hard, his own dick pointing straight and proud in Molly's direction.
"Well. You're not exactly small yourself, are you Paul?"
"I suppose not, but I'd prefer if we didn't compare. Fragile male penis envy and whatnot."
Molly laughed at that. The fact Paul had maintained a sense of humor through this mess of an interview was good. She could use some humor in her life.
"I usually prefer smaller men."
"Is this the height thing again?"
"And a cock size thing. My type is usually the shorter, smaller more effeminate guys. Femboys, if you want another label."
"I suppose that means we're both outside our comfort zones at this point," said Paul. "Can I... touch it? Touch you?"
"We can do that. I should warn you that if we start petting, I will get hard. The only reason I'm not already is because I took something before,I came in here that helps keep me calm. Girls like me tend to get aroused and stay aroused easily."
"I don't know if that's good news or bad news, not quite sure how to process being the cause of someone else's erection. I've only been with... hmm, females? Vagina females? Fuck I hate pronouns these days."
"No worries. I don't offend easily. Come over here and cop a feel if that's what you want."
Paul walked over to her. The closer he got to Molly, the more nervous he became. His arousal was obvious, and Molly was staring. He noticed her cock twitch. His own twitched in response, like they were communicating on their own.
He never had any sexual interest in men through his life. He always thought it was the dick that turned him off. Seeing himself now, however, transfixed by the biggest cock he'd ever seen, he wasn't so sure that was the reason anymore.
He was into whatever this was and was determined to see where it led. He looked at Molly, who tore her own eyes away from his crotch to look him in the eyes.
"How far are we taking this?" Paul asked.
"Good question. I would suggest we avoid anything involving penetration, for today at least, but other than that, free reign."
"You've been in this position before, haven't you? 'Breaking in' someone not used someone like you."
"Yes. Women like me might be more common than you think, but it's still a rare gender. Warming up to the idea before diving in the deep end works out better for us."
"Makes sense," said Paul.
"It works, sometimes. Warmth and comfort are important. We will need to become as comfortable as possible around each other for this to work. There is no half measure here. Today might seem all fun, but if you take this job, things will get difficult for you."
"You don't have to do that anymore. I may not fully understand what all of this is, but I'm into it. Stop warning me."
Molly nodded.
Paul reached out in front of him, unable to control his arms anymore. He needed to feel her tits, drown himself in them. He needed to hold her girlcock in his hands, to feel the weight of it and see what it looked and felt like when she was hard. He wasn't sure where these feelings were coming from, but he wasn't sure he cared either.
They both pawed at each other, Molly running her hands up and down Paul's chest and going straight for his cock. She had a directness about her that Paul liked.
Paul had never touched a more perfect set of tits. They were large, heavy and soft in his hands. He played with them exclusively at first, until with some willpower, he eventually tore his hands further south. He brushed his fingertip against her cock and visibly saw it start to grow.
He wrapped one hand around the base and squeezed. He closed his eyes and felt Molly stiffen in his hand. He reached his second hand and held her girlcock. It was hot, and different, and big. Yet all at the same time, it felt good. It didn't make sense, but seeing how none of this did, he continued with his current coping mechanism and just went with it.
Molly was hairless. Not just shaved, Paul would have at least felt the stubble if she had shaved or waxed, but smooth, like that's how she was naturally. Something to ask about later.
He reached further down and cupped her balls with both hands. Each one was about the size of a lemon, but heavier than he would have assumed. Like they were over-full of something for their size. He recognized it for what it meant, having gone through his own droughts.
"How long since you've been with anyone?" asked Paul.
Molly had her eyes closed now, not caring for anything but for what Paul's hands were doing.
"Years," she said.
"How?"
"Most of it by choice, some of it not."
Paul kept fondling Molly's balls. It was a unique feeling. He had a set of his own, but it wasn't the same.
"Let's say, for instance, you somehow get off today. How much would you cum?"
Just hearing Paul use the word 'cum' brought her closer than anyone had accomplished in a long while. She wanted to, but she was still worried she might scare Paul away.
"A lot. I produce more semen than even the most virile male. Another part of being a dickgirl. My drive is also more than you'd expect. It would be best if you assumed when it comes to sex, the words 'more' and 'bigger' apply to everything."
"Interesting. For better or worse, you have me fascinated."
"You just want to play with my boobs more."
"I haven't paid any attention to your boobs for a few minutes, if you haven't noticed. Your cock is hard as steel. It's kinky and taboo and I can't help but wonder how you have enough blood pressure to keep a cock this big so hard."
"Another dickgirl thing. And can you call it a girlcock, please? I like the way it sounds better. Feminine, but doesn't hide what it is."
"Pronouns again. I'll call this thing Arnold, or Betty, if that's what you like."
Molly laughed. He had a natural way about him that was putting her at ease, even as he experimentally felt up her hardness.
They shut up for the next few minutes and explored each other. Paul switched between feeling Molly's tits and her cock and balls; the decidedly feminine nature of her breasts combined with the masculine feel of her girlcock was really working for him. He decided to take it a step further and see what happened.
He moved his hands to her shaft and started stroking while at the same time burying his face in her cleavage.
Paul jerked Molly off, slowly at first. She moaned as he stroked, and Paul found himself liking what he was doing.
"I want you to cum, let me see if it's as much as you say."
"A little longer and you'll get your wish, whether you want it or not. Squeeze a little tighter, yes, like that. Fuck your hands feel good."
Paul was sucking and lightly bit on Molly's nipples as he pumped her. He was worried she would protest to the rough treatment, but it seemed to only bring her closer to their goal. Her breathing changed and her body started to ripple slightly when he stroked over her cock-tip.
She was going to cum soon and Paul felt excited about it.
"Fuck, Paul, you're making me cum, uhh, shit..."
Molly started to buck her hips trying to fuck Paul's hands. He kept stroking, faster now and holding on a little tighter trying his best to bring about his prize.
Molly threw her head back and let out a loud, aching moan as she came. Spurt after spurt shot out of her, some on the floor, but most of it landed on Paul since he was still standing right in front of her. She thought he might jump out of the way at first, but he didn't. Paul stayed where he was and milked her as she drenched him in her seed.
The aftermath was something out of a lewd fantasy. Paul had so much cum on his chest and stomach that it started sliding down to coat his own rock-hard cock. He never stopped stroking Molly as she kept going.
Something had switched in him as he witnessed how much Molly came for him. He didn't recognize it, didn't know what it was or what it meant, but he was sure he didn't want it to switch back.
Finally spent, Molly pulled back from Paul. She was still hard but felt exhausted. Like a weight had been lifted and the strain of carrying it was all crashing down on her at once. She stepped back and collapsed back in the recliner she had been in before. She looked up at Paul and how much of a mess he was. It was beautiful.
He was beautiful.
"That was awesome," said Paul, "Weird. Messy, but awesome. Like a cum god or something."
Molly was not expecting that reaction. She didn't have a response for it.
She then watched as Paul took one his fingers and wiped some of her cum of his chest and brought it to his mouth. He licked it tentatively, not quite sure what to do. After a second of contemplation, he shrugged his shoulders and put the whole finger in his mouth.
He showed no signs if he liked it, but he didn't gag or spit, so Molly assumed it wasn't a terrible experience in the end.
She looked down at Paul's own throbbing cock. It was purple and needed attention. The interview wasn't quite over yet.
"Fuck my tits," she said, "I want you to do to my tits what I just did to... all of you. Fuck my tis with my own cum as lube."
Paul was all lust at this point and sliding his cock between those perfect tits was exactly what he needed. Or so his mind told him.
He walked up to the chair Molly was on and straddled her waist, a knee on each side of her. It was quickly apparent that her still hard girlcock was going to get in the way, so he leaned up slightly and tucked it way underneath one leg until it was behind him. He could feel it faintly rubbing against his ass, as if in promise of the future.
Molly wiped a handful of her cum off Paul and applied it liberally between her mounds and added more to his dick before guiding him home between her tits. Once it was where it needed to be, she let him go, crossed her arms across her chest tightly, creating a soft warm seal between them for Paul to use.
"Fuck my tits, Paul. There so big and I need you to fuck them and cum all over them for me. Please?"
Paul did. He bucked his hips and luxuriated in the indescribable pleasure Molly was providing. Not only did it feel incredible, but as he looked down on her he lost himself to the scene. Her tits were pressed together tightly, the way she had her arms folded across her body made it seem like she was creating a window filled with nothing but her breasts, framing them.
Her eyes were locked on his and he couldn't decide what was more erotic, her tits hugging his dick as he fucked them, or the desire in her eyes as she watched him use her.
It didn't take long. Between the foreplay, Molly's cum show, and the amazing titjob he was enjoying, he was already going to blow.
A few more strokes in and out of the well-endowed tit-flesh and he was done. He grunted and thrust forward one last time and shot his load. It wasn't as much as Molly, but it was respectable.
Paul kept using Molly's tits to massage his way through his orgasm, letting them squeeze and milk him the same way he had for her girlcock minutes before. He rode her through his high, not moving to get off her until he felt it might be awkward if he didn't.
Molly had given plenty of titty-fucks in her life. With breasts as big as hers there was no way around it. Not that she minded the act. This, with Paul, felt different from those other times somehow.
She felt like she wanted to keep him there, sliding between her tits for hours. It was a surreal thought. This interview hadn't gone to plan. In fact, as she thought on it, much of her meeting so far with Paul had a tint of surrealness to it. His personality, his reaction to being all but lied to to get him here, not to mention the sex and her introduction of her non-female parts... he was too calm. Too willing.
A flash of something hit her. Thinking on Paul and how everything had progressed sparked something in her head and she had a sudden, unbearable to need to write. She could see her new book, what it would be about, who the main character should be. The entire plot laid out in her mind as she looked up at Paul still sitting atop her.
She watched as he made to get off her now that he had finished.
"No... uhh, stay here, uhm, please," she said, feeling off balance. "It feels nice." Which wasn't untrue, just not why she needed to him stay.
Paul nodded and kept his softening cock wedged between her tits. He couldn't really fuck them without being hard, but he didn't think that was the point of her request.
They stayed like that for some time, well after the point where Paul's knees started to hurt and the pools of cum between them began dry. Molly lay there, all but ignoring Paul, combing through her own thoughts. Paul was absently fondling her breasts and waiting to see what happened next.
It had been so long since someone, or something, had affected her so much that the need to write was this overwhelming. She needed her laptop, needed to get some of it on paper before she lost any of it. She didn't know why her mind worked like this, through sex, but she long since gave up questioning it, writing it off as just another dickgirl quirk.
Sex was such a big part of who their gender was that it was hard to easily separate it from their life or personality.
"I need you to get off me now. Don't leave or get dressed yet, just get up. Please," she said.
She would have stayed where she was if she could, if she had her laptop handy, or even pen and paper. She thought it had to be something about Paul, and him fucking her tits, that was the catalyst for this surge of inspiration.
Something for her to test out more later.
Paul obliged, relieved to be moving anywhere as long as he wasn't on his knees. He watched Molly get up after him and make her way to her clothes where she pulled out her phone and thumbed her way through it.
Not a minute later a knock came. Molly went to open it, which caused Paul to panic for a moment thinking someone was going to walk in and see him naked and covered in dried cum, but it passed quickly as Molly answered the door by opening it just wide enough for her to be handed something through it.
Taking it and closing the door again, Molly rushed back over to her chair and sat down, ignoring the mess her and Paul had made of the room. It was a weird, but funny, few minutes for Paul. Everything Molly was doing she did in a rush, like she had somewhere to be. Not funny on its own, but her doing it while her cock was hard, and her tits were swinging about gave the scene a jiggly effect that made a cartoon out the obvious seriousness of the moment.
He was also fascinated that she was, in fact, still hard and had been since he'd made her so before jerking her off. She hadn't softened in the slightest, even after she came.
She mentioned she was hyper-virile, so he figured this must be a part of that. It excited him. He still wasn't used to the idea that raging hard girlcock got him excited, but that was a battle in self-awareness for another time.
Molly put a laptop on the table and opened it. After a few clicks she started typing furiously.
"Should I go now?" asked Paul, assuming the interview was over if she was getting to her work.
"No, thank you," she replied without looking.
The door to the room opened slightly once more, still not wide enough for anyone to look in, and someone dropped a bag on the floor just inside.
Curious, Paul made his way over to see what was left.
"Should be towels and baby-wipes," said Molly. "Clean yourself and come sit down, please."
Paul noted she was being bossier and shorter with him then before. It was confusing. He did want to clean up though, and thanked Molly internally for her thoughtfulness. The cum was starting to itch.
* * * * *
The next hour was a test in patience for Paul. Twice he tried to get dressed, each time being stopped by Molly with her chirping a simple 'Don't please'. At least she was being polite with her orders. Paul didn't know why he did as she asked, but he did and reserved himself to sitting naked and playing on his phone.
After a while, Molly stopped typing. When Paul looked up from his phone he saw she was staring at him, a puzzled look on her face.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
She frowned, like she didn't want to say something, but had to. "Are you taking the job?"
"I'd like to," he said, "but honestly, we haven't really talked about the job, outside of the sex stuff. Any way I can get more details? Like pay and hours, and maybe the benefits. You know, the ones that don't result in us cuming on eachother?"
Molly smiled. It was a very reasonable request. She turned back to her computer and made a few moves before looking back to Paul.
"Just sent you an email with your pay and benefits package, as well as a few extra details on the admin side of things. Hours, however, are going to be fluid. Writing a book isn't a nine to five sort of endeavor."
"Is that what you've been doing this last hour or so? Writing?"
"Yep. Our little bout of extra-curricular interview activities got my juices flowing, in more ways than one. I like you, Paul, your interesting, and you get me hot."
"Ditto."
"Do you know how to suck a girlcock, Paul?"
Paul let out a laugh at the quick change of subject. It also helped mask a brief feeling of fear at the thought of putting her giant member in his mouth.
"I've never sucked any cock, let alone one like yours. I've had oral before though, and I would assume the mechanics are similar, but on a larger scale."
She nodded. "I want you to crawl under this table and suck my dick, right now. Would you do that for me?"
"I thought we were going to avoid any penetration today; wouldn't my mouth count as a form of penetration."
"You can always say no if you don't feel comfortable doing it."
"It's not that, at least I don't think it is. I want to understand what's happening."
"What's happening is you just cured my decade long writers block with a hand job and a titty-fuck, I can only imagine what you'll do for me if you take the job. And if you are accepting the job then I am amending my 'no penetration' suggestion. The interview is over."
Paul couldn't help but smirk. Then frowned.
Getting Molly off with his hands was different, yet familiar. Paul had rubbed one out enough times in his life that doing it on someone else felt more like an extension of his own masturbation, or at least he could pretend it was. Putting Molly's monster girlcock in his mouth would be something new.
If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to do it. Molly had been so big and warm in his hands and all that cum she had sprayed on him was so much dirtier and kinkier in a way he had never expereinced with any other woman. From much of the context of their conversations it was clear things could get even more dirty and kinky as this job progressed.
There was choice to be made here. Either he was in this world, with Molly, or he wasn't. He had an idea of what he wanted but couldn't admit to himself what it was. He needed more information on what he was getting himself into before the deal was locked in his own mind.
"Very well, Ms. Denton. I'd be glad to suck your girlcock. You'll have to forgive my inexperience on the subject though."
"Why are talking like that? Don't be weird."
"You just asked a guy you just met to crawl under a table and give you blowjob while you write your new book, and I'm being weird?"
"Yes," she said. "And don't worry about being inexperienced. I'm so hard-up your hands would be enough again. But I want you to use your mouth if you can. You know, take your time and have fun with it."
"Easier said than done, I'm afraid."
"Probably."
"This is so weird," Paul mumbled, not sure or caring if Molly heard him. If she did, she didn't say anything.
He made his way under the table. His knees had long since recovered so the crawling part didn't really bother him. He found it mildly fun even. He'd like to see Molly crawl to him like this. She'd be naked, crawling towards him with her tits swaying beneath her as she moved.
He really wanted to see that, not just imagine it. Taking a page from Molly and being direct, he asked, "Would you crawl for me like this?" he asked, his voice muffled a bit from being under the table.
"Yes," she responded.
"So, this isn't some dom/sub thing for you?"
"No. Not right now, anyway. If I thought you could walk under the table to blow me, I'd have said it like that. I'm more interested in the blowjob. That's not to say I'm opposed to having power dynamics involved in our sex from time to time. I'm into to just about everything given the right environment... except feet. Don't do anything weird with your feet."
"Noted."
Paul had arrived at his destination while Molly was talking. She was so hard her girlcock was pulsing. It was so big and meaty Paul didn't think he could fit even the tip in his mouth. He'd made it this far, however, so he damn well was going to try.
It took him a minute to figure out his positioning under the table. He was going to stay on his knees, but that would get uncomfortable quickly. He settled on sitting criss-cross applesauce with his ass on the floor. Molly sat on the edge of the chair so her cock was sticking as deep under the table as she could manage. It hung just below Paul's chin.
He reached up with both hands, taking Molly in a firm grip. He started stroking her like he had before, working himself up to using his mouth. He gave a tentative lick from base to tip on the underside of the huge shaft. He paused and concentrated on Molly's frenulum (the sensitive part of the penis just under the tip) knowing from his own experience it was where he would cause her the most pleasure.
He was still hesitant to take the leap of trying to take Molly into his mouth. He'd get there in his own time. Molly told him to take his time and have fun, so he was. He vaguely heard Molly typing away above as he went about his work. She didn't really seem to care what he was doing with her cock, only that he was doing something.
Paul started paying more and more attention to the tip, licking around it, sucking the very nub and teasing the hole. She tasted salty and sweet, like her cum had been when he tried it earlier. He couldn't believe he had tasted her like that but didn't regret it.
Like most of Molly, he liked it without understanding why.
Steeling himself, he bent further forward, taking Molly's head into his mouth as best he could. It was a stretch, but he managed. It reminded him of the time when he was younger and had shoved the end of a pool noodle into his mouth so he could blow water out the other end, like a squirt gun.
Maybe not as thick as that, but similar enough.
He kept her in his mouth, using the suction of his lips and mobility of his tongue to keep up the stimulation as he felt his way through his first blowjob.
Molly sighed and stopped typing when she felt Paul take her into him. It had been so long since she'd had a willing mouth that she forgot how good it felt.
"That's amazing Paul. You're doing amazing. You make me feel so good," she said.
Nothing like a little positive reinforcement to train good habits, she thought.
And Paul was reinforced. He pushed himself further, doing his best to fit as much of the new toy into his mouth as he could. It wasn't all that much more, but it was enough. He knew if he practiced, he'd get better at it.
Doing what he could and using what he knew about what made him feel good when being blown, he had Molly on the brink quicker than when he'd used his hands.
"Stop, please," said Molly. "I don't want to cum yet. A few more minutes so I can finish what I'm doing here."
Paul did as requested. His jaws were tired, but not overly so. He could last a little longer.
He released Molly from his mouth with a lewd 'pop' but kept stroking her slowly with his hands. He liked what he was doing. He especially liked how Molly was behaving during this whole episode. She wasn't forceful or needy. She wasn't even critical, even though he knew he probably wasn't winning any awards for his technique.
She wanted the attention, the sensation. He wanted to give it to her. Everybody wins.
He took the tip of her girlcock back into his mouth, massaging the frenulum with his tongue, then back out, repeating the process and making sure not to put her over the edge just yet.
He wanted to see her cum again. He couldn't get over how it had literally splashed on him the first time. The pressure and speed of it coming out of Molly was something special to create that type of effect.
He worked her base with both hands and used his mouth on her tip, working in tandem to make it seem like one singular effort. Paul swore Molly got even bigger and harder as he worked her.
"That's it, Paul, make me cum again. Right down your fucking throat," said Molly, almost growling the words. She was so hot for what Paul had been doing for her it was almost painful that she hadn't blown her load yet.
Paul ignored the aggression, chalking it up to the heat of the moment, and worked to finish her off.
"Right now... jesus fuck... I'm cuming again. You're making me cum again!"
A water hose shot into Paul's mouth. The pressure of Molly's cum all but forced Paul to swallow. There was no way for Paul to handle it all so he eventually gave up and just let the cum go wherever it could find room. He was more worried about keeping up the stimulation so Molly could finish properly. There was nothing worse than a ruined orgasm.
Paul dated a girl once who was into doing that bullshit. It ended quickly with her.
Julie came down from her orgasm and laid her head on the table above where Paul was below it. She wanted to keep writing, but Paul just made her feel too good to be able to accomplish anything more than recover. Her breathing was heavy, and her balls ached from all the work they put in today. Orgasms were great, but they were intense and draining (literally), especially for someone like her.
Paul remained sitting under the table, massaging Molly's girlcock. It had softened a bit this time, but not completely. He had a sneaking suspicion it was a temporary development.
"Can you come out from under there, please?" asked Molly.
Paul crawled out and sat back in his chair across from his new boss.
"Good?" he asked, seeking validation.
"Very much so, yes. Thank you," praised Molly, her head still down.
"I'd like to get better, so if you have any after-action notes for me, I would like know."
"I'll email them to you," said Molly. She finally lifted her head up high enough to see Paul. He was covered in her cum again. It would probably be a common sight for them both in the weeks to come.
"You wore me out," she said. "I didn't expect things to play out this way. At least not as fast as they did."
"You know what they say when inspiration strikes..." replied Paul letting himself trail off.
"Consider me inspired."