She’s got good answers for all my questions, and she’s the perfect candidate. We go through her resume as I ask her the questions I ask all of my interns. She lobs her answers back to me as easily as I toss the questions her way. She's a good student and a native of California, a product of public schools and an education system that steers women away from STEM fields. She's had the odds stacked against her in that regard, but she chose science when she was in high school and has never regretted it, even when her girlfriends were coasting in college classes of both sexes and she was stuck with a bunch of pretentious and oblivious men who looked at her with a bad case of side-eye when they saw a woman in upper-level chemistry and biology seminars.

Not exactly what I was expecting, though. She doesn’t look like a stuck-up lab rat at all. Her little skirt pulls across her lap, and sitting down, it might be just a bit too short. Even though this is a podcast about sex, it’s still a professional office. Most of the time.

With her hair up in a bun, I imagine what she would look like bent over my desk as I unravel her hair and let it cascade down her back, how it would look wrapped around my fist as I tug and make her moan with my cock between her thighs.

I’m used to people asking me questions. It’s how I made my first million, and how I’ll make my next billion. But now, I get to do the asking.

“Boyfriend?” I ask.

“Excuse me?” Her lips turn down at the corners, but her eyes glimmer in the light streaming in through the windows behind me. The cadence in her voice is inviting, warm, asking me to go further. I can see the gears inside her mind turning as she searches my face for my intentions, but her body tenses up around the edges, just a bit. Just a tiny bit.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I press forward. It looks like I’ve got her riled up as she shifts her legs, crossing one over the other and then back again, smoothing her skirt down. It doesn’t come all the way down to her knees, and I’ll have to tell her it’s okay because we don’t have an official dress code policy.

“No, no boyfriend,” she says. Her chin tips down and she looks up at me with her big brown doe-eyes, bristling with life, her voice smooth. Her cheeks are a light shade of pink, and maybe I’ve embarassed her a little bit, or maybe I've turned her on. It wasn't my intention to embarrass her - my aim was merely to find out if I have a chance of ending the night with her ass in my bed. “But are you really allowed to ask about my personal life?”

“I’m allowed to ask it if you answer,” I say. “You did answer, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she affirms with confidence. Her pretty pink lips, parted slightly, show clearly that she doesn't know what to say. She doesn't even know what to think. And the fact that she's perfect for the show and playing with me instead of telling me she wants to come to my house for some private off-the-job training is making my cock stir with the kind of desire that only comes from a girl like her.

Hard to get. But harder not to. Because now that I've met her, if I can't have her I'll never be able to get my mind off of her. She's that kind of girl.

“What unique trait or characteristic will you bring to the show?” I say, changing gears back to the topic at hand. I want to know how she'll answer these mundane questions.

“Let’s see.” She shifts with me back into professional mode. Maybe my charm and good looks made her forget she was interviewing for an internship. That’s okay, because by the time I’m done with her, she’ll be trained to be my perfect dirty girl and loving every minute of it. “I have a very good eye for detail. There’s no job too big or too small. I was once an unpaid assistant for the dean of the biology department at my college. Actually, I was the assistant’s assistant. Anyway, I was out on a coffee run, and I knew how particular this dean was about his coffee. I watched the barista like a hawk, because I wanted to make sure the coffee was made correctly. He liked half regular coffee and half decaf.”

She’s thorough and focused, but at this point I couldn’t care less about her keen eye for detail. I decided the moment I saw her that she had the internship. I know I said no more beautiful women, but I can’t help myself for her. There’s too much life and light behind her eyes to let her just walk out the door.

“Anyway, I saw that the barista started making his coffee with just decaf, and I knew how much of a disaster that would have been.” Sara sits up straight in her chair, her eyes flashing. I can see she takes pride in her work.

“Did the dean have a device in his office that would measure the exact proportion of caffeine in his drink?”

Her smile lights up her whole face and she looks down like she’s embarrassed to be laughing at my joke. “I don’t know how he did it, but if the coffee wasn’t half regular and half decaf, he somehow knew.”

Sara’s perfect. She’s beautiful, with porcelain skin and big brown eyes and dark chestnut hair, and small tits that are begging to be let out under her creamy white shirt. It has a tie at the neck, a floppy bow resting against her chest.

“You know that’s called a pussy bow, right?” I get up and start over to the door of my office. I wait there, expecting her to follow me.

“I’m sorry?” She turns around in her chair and her big doe eyes grow wide. “What?”

“The bow on your shirt. It’s called a pussy bow. I swear I’m not making that up.”

“Oh...right. I knew that. Sorry.”

“I have to tell you that these internships don’t always lead to an offer of full-time employment. In fact, I’ve never offered a job to an intern after the internship was over. I want to let you know that upfront. But you’ve got a fresh voice, Sara. We could use you around here.” I open the door to my office and she smiles brightly, bouncing out of her chair.

“Does that mean I got the internship?” She gets up and walks over to me, and with each step dividing the space between us, I grow more sure that she’s what I need. Her eyes flicker from my lips to my eyes as she studies me carefully, sizing me up.

She keeps moving toward me until she’s standing just in front of me, her sweetness enveloping me and making my cock hard.

“Welcome to Dirty After Dark.”