I just don't like job interviews. I sat uncomfortably in a suit and tie in the brightly lit room in front of a desk. I looked around the glass and chrome office. Not my thing. I prefer a laid back vibe. But here I was in the middle of this Century City television network office complex. I so wanted to get back to my much smaller and more relaxed office back up at Redondo Beach. The man behind the desk suddenly looked up and grinned at me.

"I am so sorry," he said, hanging up the phone. "It was New York, I just had to take it, you know how it goes."

He picked up the file in front of him. "Oh, that's right, you're Nicholas Johnson, the attorney, right?" He looked back at me.

"Yes, that's me," I answered.

"So tell me, Nick, can I call you Nick? Why are you here?" he asked, putting down the folder and picking up a pen and began taking notes.

"Nick is fine. Well, to be honest, I've been a fan of your show, you know "America's Survival Reality Show" for quite a few years. I like watching the people who you leave on some tropical island and see how they do. You know, to see who figures out how to make it to the end. And lets be honest, the three million dollar prize would really be nice!" I explained.

The man behind the desk stopped writing and looked up at me. "Five million, this year the grand prize is five million dollars."

"Damn, that's life changing!" I said enthusiastically.

"Yes, for sure," he continued. "But I need you to explain two things for me. First, you will be away from your home for at least a month, probably out of the country, but of course I cannot give you any specifics," he added with a grin. "And secondly, how comfortable are you with an awful lot of physical activity and contests, llike climbing, swimming, diving, and other challenges you've probably seen on other seasons of our show?" he asked with his eyebrows raised.

I looked at him carefully, trying to figure out just what he wanted me to say. "Well first off, as to the time issue," I began, "I am an attorney and but now work for myself. A couple of months ago, I decided that my job as an attorney with a large LA law firm was just not cutting it for me. Yes, the salary was amazing, but the hours sucked. Eighty hour work weeks was just not my thing. I had no social life and couldn't even relax enough to enjoy the beach and the ocean. I love to surf and I just couldn't do it. I lost two boyfriends solely because of my job, and had basically no social life." I said. "And yes, I am gay and hope that is not a problem," I added defiantly.

"No, not at all." he countered . "And your work plans now?" he asked.

"I have enough saved to let me coast for a few months. I am setting up my own office right now. I already have a few clients waiting for me so I will be able to get back into it easy enough when I return, if I am selected for your show. The truth is, I've been working full time since college and so I'm looking forward to this break." I explained.

"As for my physical ability, I was always the jock at school. I loved gymnastics and baseball, and of course, swimming and surfing. I've also done a bit of rock climbing and enjoy anything that is outdoors as a rule," I said.

After we chatted a while longer, he told me that I was definitely in the running and that there would be an other meeting and interview, and possibly a medical exam if I proceed to the next level of the interview process. I thanked him for his time and I headed out.

I was happy to drive out of the busy downtown business area of Los Angeles and hit the freeway until I was back in Redondo. I grabbed some board shorts and quickly changed, eager to get out of my suit. In no time, I was sitting on the beach enjoying the fresh ocean air, peeling off my t shirt and just chilling. I looked over a few of the guys walking by and enjoyed having a couple of them look me over as well. At 30 years of age, I still had the looks of someone much younger. My unruly mop of blonde hair and tanned body clearly defined me as a southern California surfer dude. At 6 feet tall, I kept my weight to a trim 170 pounds and just loved my defined abs. One particular guy, maybe in his mid twenties, walked past me at least three times, glancing my way and flexing as he passed. Nah, not my type, I thought.

My mind was pretty much absorbed with what I was getting myself into. Part of me thought I was crazy to want to be on a reality show but another part of me looked forward to showing off on national television walking around buff and shirtless. Surely that could jumpstart my social life when I got back to civilization.

A week later, I was back in Century City. This time, I thought a sport jacket and some Dockers pants was dressy enough. They had said to be prepared to stay for a few hours. And it was only 10:00am. I sat in a room with maybe 50 other guys, looking like a real cross section of the population. I saw white, black, Hispanic and Asian guys of all sizes and ages. Some looked like they were maybe just 18 years old as well as the twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty year olds. There were even a bunch that could have been sixty something. I sat quietly, watching, taking it all in. I guessed that maybe the female contestants were being handled on another day or in another place. Every now and then, someone at the front of the room would call out a name or two and those guys would be led out of the room. I found it interesting that sometimes the guys called out would return, but sometimes they wouldn't!

"Hey, man. You think you have a shot at this thing?" a voice to my left said to me.

I turned to look at him. He was a nice looking black guy. His hair cut short, wearing jeans and a nice button down shirt.

"Dunno!" I half muttered.

He put his hand out towards me. "Hey, the name's Denzel. How ya doing?" he asked.

I offered my hand and we shook.. "Nick here, doing fine but not quite sure what I'm doing here putting myself through this crap and I have no clue what they're looking for," I offered.

Denzel leaned forward and said in a low voice: "All I know man, is that when you start to get the final steps, you really have to push it to make an impression and hope that person has some authority to help with the decision.."

"I hear ya," I responded.

I'm 29 years old, by the way. And you?" he asked.

"I just turned 30. So you married or single Denzel?" I asked in return.

Denzel frowned as he spoke. "My old lady just split. We were together 8 years and she just ran off with some guy. She's a bitch and a half! So I thought I could use a break from the real world," Denzel said. "You have a wife or girlfriend?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm gay, not into the female scene," I answered.

"You are one lucky fuck!" Denzel offered with a grin. "No bitches to mess with!" he added with a grin.

"And you know man, no bitches means no drama. That must be sweet!" Denzel said.

"Oh, you'd be surprised at the drama I still have to deal with sometimes," I said.

We talked a bit more. I found out that he worked for the post office and accumulated enough time to try for the show and I told him I was an attorney between jobs.

A little while later, Denzel and I and two other guys were called up and led into a small room. A young woman came in with a clipboard.

"Gentlemen," she began, "congratulations! You are part of the final 40 applicants. At this point, we are going to do some photo tests to see how you look on film. The final step will be another interview." She looked around the room. "Any questions?" she finally asked.

I raised my hand. "Yes?" she responded, looking at me.

"Where are the women? I only see guys here." I asked.

"Good question. This year we are trying something new. We are currently filming a females-only show and today we are putting together the cast of the guys only show!" she announced proudly.

"Nice!" I said, supporting her enthusiasm.

After she left, the four of us guys took our seats and picked up some of the various magazines laying around the tables near us. The first guy was soon called, some older guy, looking like he was in his late 40's. Maybe 20 minutes later, he stuck his head in the door and shot us a thumbs up sign. Damn, that wasn't good for me, I thought. The second guy was called and maybe half an hour later (without the second guy returning), they came by and called for Denzel.

"Good luck man," I said as the door closed behind him. I heard a muffled thanks from the other side of the door.

Another 20 minutes passed and the same lady as before came in the room. "Nick, you ready?" she asked.

Damn, Denzel never came back. I was disappointed at the loss of the only friendly face I knew in this whole affair. I followed along the hallway and was led into a room set up with lights and camera equipment. In the corner I saw Denzel. It looked like he was finishing up his photo shoot, standing in his pants but without his shirt. It took me a minute to stop staring. His bare chest was impressive. His dark skin was smooth and very well muscled. His pecs stood out and he had the best abs I had ever seen. And his waist was so trim and tight. Denzel looked over and gave me a thumbs up as he put on his shirt, putting himself back together.

I was directed to sit in a chair on the side as the woman who brought me in talked to the photographer, the only other person in the room.

She then turned to face Denzel, who was now dressed. "Okay, Denzel, you're done today and we'll be in touch. But so far, so good. The photographer said he was happy with your photo session," the woman said. "It went quickly as scheduled!"

Turning to the photographer, she added: "So Bob, Nick will be your last shoot now, since you said you had to leave early today. We'll send the rest of the applicants upstairs to the other studio."

"Thanks Meg. Sorry I have to split," Bob the photographer replied.

"Lock up when you're done," the gal named Meg said. And with that she and Denzel left the room.

"So you're Bob I take it," I asked, giving this guy the once over. He was about my height and probably a couple of years younger then me. Bob had dark red hair and fair skin. From his waist down, covered in a pair of jeans, his hips were slim as were his legs. However, from his waist up, his body flared outward to show some impressive muscular shoulders. He wore a blue checkered shirt and no undershirt. A small patch of dark red hair poked through at his collar, since the top two buttons of his shirt were open. I couldn't figure out if he was too cute or too sexy.

"Hey, how you doing, um uh Nick is it?" He said and asked as he looked down at a clipboard. I nodded a yes with a smile, not quite sure of what to expect.

"Well, this will be real simple Nick," Bob began. "I'm actually one of the judges to see who makes the cast. Since I will be one of the on-site producers and cameramen, I need to make sure the camera loves you!"

"Fair enough," I said, realizing that this guy was important, very important!

"First I am going to do some head shots, close ups and regular, and then a couple of bare chested poses, for those beach scenes when you are roughing it," he explained.

"So we at least have a beach., huh?" I said, poking for some clues.

Bob looked at me grinning. "We almost always have a beach Nick. You wont get anything off of me!" he teased.

I was positioned where to sit for the poses and Bob began snapping away. I made sure to do everything exactly how he wanted and hoped I could get his attention. Five million dollars. Five million dollars. I was determined. When he was ready for me to take off my shirt, I kept my eyes on him and kept talking, forcing him to keep watching me. After maybe five minutes taking more pictures, and he seemed near completion, I saw my opportunity.

"Bob, can I ask you a question?" I asked.

"Sure Nick, what?" he answered.

"I'd like to pose a bit with some of my ideas, to see if I can stand out a bit. Do you mind? I asked innocently.

Bob looked up at me as he looked at his watch. "Sure, why not. You've been pretty easy to work with so I'm actually ahead of schedule. I may even call back Meg and shoot a couple more guys," he said.

"We'll see," I said as I unsnapped the top of my pants and lowered the zipper slightly, seeing Bob's eyes widen as he picked up his camera again.

Bob started to move around me, taking more pictures slowly, clearly not sure what I was up to.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks, walking around him barefoot.

"Id certainly not wear socks or shoes on the beach would I?" I asked with my eyebrows raised. He nodded his head up and down slowly, still taking pictures but occasionally just watching.

I lowered the pants zipper a bit more but this time, letting my fingers slip casually inside the waist band of my white underpants, which were a pair of ordinary tighty whities.

Bob continued to take my picture, but I could see I was pulling him in, frame by frame. I pulled my pants down, turning half way away from him, allowing him to see the profile of my crotch bulge within my underpants. His eyes took it all in. I kicked off my pants entirely and grabbed a chair, to sit down and spread my legs suggestively. I looked up at him.

"Is this a good pose, Bob?" I asked with a grin.

"It's definitely better then the ones I took with the other guys before you," he said, putting the camera down and smiling back at me.

I got up from the chair and walked towards him slowly, wearing only my underpants.

"You look warm Bob, I bet from all those pictures you had to take of so many guys who may not even be selected." He just grinned back.

"And you said you would be on the island with us, huh? I bet its in the Pacific Ocean!" I said, now standing directly in front of him.

"You know I can't tell you that its one of the islands of Tahiti," he said, his smile widening his eyes scanned my body. I reached out and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, revealing an impressive chest dusted with short curly reddish brown hair.

"I've never dated a redheaded guy before," I said slowly as I admired his muscular chest. "Or had sex with one either, for that matter," I added with a wink.

Suddenly I felt his hand on my crotch. "White fabric doesn't photograph very well. It glares in the picture," he said, rubbing my swelling cock beneath the cotton material of my briefs.

"I am so sorry Bob," I said as I quickly pulled my briefs down and off, allowing my growing cock to pop up right into his waiting hand.

"Is it better now Bob? I'd never want any glare for you!" I purred at him.

With my hands slowly exploring and caressing his chest, I worked his shirt off his body, allowing it to fall to the floor. I moved in closer, feeling his body heat next to mine. He continued a slow stroke of my now hard cock as I quickly worked the opening to his pants. The pants fell to the floor, revealing that Bob went commando, no underwear at all. Bob stood before me naked, his cock which was crowned with light reddish brown hair, grew more and more erect.

"Oh, I see," I said with a smile, "no white underwear at all means no glare Bob! That's so smart!" I added sarcastically.

Bob moved into me as we fell into a tight hug, our hard cocks pushed up against our bellies. With our mouths soon locked, out tongues moved out to find each other and begin their courtship dance. Like two eels, our tongues wiggled in and out and around and over, exploring new territory. Our passion increased as we soon found ourselves lying on the floor, slowly working into a 69 position. I hungrily found Bob's ball sac and kicked and sucked on the wrinkly skin. Taking one ball at a time into my mouth, I sucked and licked as Bob moaned in delight. He, on the other hand, went straight for my throbbing cock. Not wanting to be undone, I moved onto his cock, licking the head first and then the underside, being sure to cover it all. With my hands clutching his firm smooth ass cheeks, I held on tight and curved my lips, giving him a firm, tight suck.

Bob remained attached to my cock as his head began a back and forth motion, triggering my hips to begin a slow pivot movement so I could properly face fuck him. Our moans only grew as our cocks heated up to keep pace. I knew I was close, but I could tell Bob was close by the rising sound of his moans and groans. Sucking busily on the floor of some office for the chance to win big on television somehow spurred me on. I suddenly tensed and felt the rising tide of my cum. I began to shoot out just as Bob's cock stiffened in my mouth. I felt wave after wave of his warm cream hit the back of my throat. I kept his cock in my mouth as it slowed, allowing me to suck him clean as I took all that he offered.

At the other end, Bob was doing the same. He tenderly licked me clean until he was finished. A few moments later, we pulled apart and found ourselves sitting naked side by side, still panting, on a small couch nearby.

"So, will your wife or girlfriend be with you in Tahiti during the filming of the show?" I asked innocently, as our bare hips and knees rubbed together.

"Oh, no, actually not. I don't have a wife or girlfriend because I'm gay!" he said with a wide smile.

"What a coincidence!" I said laughing. "I'm gay too! Small world ,huh Bob?" I said, noticing him smile as he stood up and began to walk towards his clothes lying jumbled on the floor nearby.

I got dressed as well. "Thanks for the time. I truly had fun with you today!" I said. "Me too, Nick. Thanks for a little thrill!"

"Little?! We're both a good eight inches! Not so little I my opinion!" I teased him and he turned to me and winked.

"So Bob," I began, what's the next step here after today? When do I hear something?" I asked.

Bob turned and walked over to me, standing a mere inches from my face.

He lowered his voice to speak, as if being super professional.

"Sir, the producers shall meet to review the candidates. Most will be eliminated tomorrow and receive a letter right after that. Some will be asked back for another interview for further review and only a handful will receive an acceptance letter to be on America's Survival Reality Show. Does that answer your question sir?" He stated, without any emotion or indication whatsoever.

Bob then surprised me and leaned forward, planting a big sloppy kiss on my lips. He then raised his eyebrows and turned his mouth to my ear.

"Go call your utility companies and set up an automatic bill pay from your bank account to cover at least 5 or 6 weeks of your absence, hot stuff!" he whispered, causing my heart to skip at least three beats!

"Don't call us. We'll call you!" he added with a wink.

Holy fuck, was all I could think. What the hell was I getting myself in for!

 

Petey

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