Ben immediately felt his cock stir. He pressed his palm against his crotch, feeling his erection grow rapidly against the pressure. Ben was not a part...cularly impulsive person, but he felt a tremendous need to masturbate. He glanced out the locker room door at the locked front door, and satisfied that the manager had not yet arrived to close up, Ben unzipped his fly and wrestled his erect cock from underneath his briefs. Ben stood conspicuously in the middle of the locker room, pulling on his. His office was full of hunting trophies, and fish on the walls and stunk of cigar smoke. He had me sit on a leather sofa. I handed him my resume and references, which he perused. "What's your name sweetheart?" he growled. "It's Robin, sir", I gave back trying best to sound like my mother. "I'm Carl, not sir, and what are you? Irish?" he shot back. "Yes, from Dublin originally, came to Boston for a university", I replied confidently. "And you end up in this shit hole looking for a table job, lot. More

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