Interview with Benefits

I’m 32. Married. IT professional. Thirteen years into a job that’s given me everything – until recently, when it started giving me nothing. It all went downhill after a major reshuffle in my company. A project I was part of moved out due to a rebid loss, and things became uncertain overnight.

I was put on the bench again. For months, I kept hoping things would stabilise. HR said it was management’s call, and management threw it back to HR. I even asked who exactly this ‘management’ was – but no one had a straight answer.

Meanwhile, my wife, who also works in IT, was dealing with her office chaos, but luckily, she was in a stable position. We talked but never really talked. It felt like we were just two people surviving the same storm in silence. There was no space for drama, but also no space for spark.

I started applying everywhere. Job portals became my second home. But there were no calls. Recession? Experience? Bad luck? I didn’t know. Then, one Thursday, something odd happened. I got a call from an unknown number.

A woman introduced herself – “Hi, this is Meera from Rock Technologies. We found your profile on a job portal. There’s a senior role you might be perfect for.” I was cautious, but she sounded confident. She added, “It’s just a screening round. The panel’s only free on Sunday. Can you join?”

An interview on Sunday felt unusual, but I couldn’t afford to be picky. I said yes. Later that night, I received the calendar invite. It was just her name. No hiring manager. No other panellist. That should have raised a red flag, but I convinced myself it was just a casual screen.

Sunday came. I joined the call. Her camera was off. She asked me to turn mine on. I didn’t hesitate – I’ve done this too many times. The round was smooth – almost too smooth. She didn’t grill me like others usually did. Towards the end, her tone shifted.

“You have a calm voice, Vik. It’s rare. It stood out.” That was odd for an interview. But I smiled and thanked her. That evening, I got a message: “Hey. The interview went well. I’ll try to push it from my side. You were honestly the most pleasant one I’ve spoken to in weeks.”

A harmless follow-up. But the chat didn’t stop there. We talked for hours. She asked about my previous projects, then about stress, and then about burnout. I played along, partly because she felt like my only shot at a decent job.

And partly because she seemed genuinely interested in hiring me. I was sure – if this ended up in an offer letter – it could change my life, especially with the 150% hike she mentioned over my current CTC. A few days passed. I waited. No reply. No second-round invite. Nothing.

By Thursday, I got anxious. I dropped her a polite follow-up mail, something like, “Hi Meera, just checking in about the next steps. Please let me know if any further round is scheduled.”

No response. Friday came and went, and still nothing. I couldn’t explain it, but a strange restlessness crept in. That call had felt real, too real to be ignored now. Was she ghosting me? Or was it just how these things worked?

By the following Monday, desperation kicked in. I messaged her directly.

“Hi, sorry to ping here. I’m just a bit anxious. Any update on the process?”

This time, she replied.

“Hey Vik! Sorry, it’s super hectic here. Just waiting for internal confirmation. I’ll let you know soon. You’re still on my mind.”

That last line made me pause. “You’re still on my mind.”

I told myself not to overthink it. Maybe it was just her style of messaging. But something about it felt personal. By Tuesday night, she texted again.

“Are you free this Friday? I think it’s better if we talk in person. I’ll explain everything. Honestly, it’ll be easier than waiting on these clueless leads.” She sent her location along with a smiling emoji.

It caught me off guard. A weekday? Face to face? But then again, if this could lead to something concrete, I couldn’t afford to hesitate. That night at dinner, I casually brought it up with my wife.

“I still haven’t heard back. But Meera, the HR, wants to meet in person this Friday. Just a quick screening round at their off-site office, she said. Maybe it’ll help speed things up.”

My wife didn’t overthink it. “Go,” she said, sipping her tea. “At least someone’s showing interest. That’s more than most companies are doing right now.”

I nodded. “Yeah… let’s see.”

Later, I messaged Meera: “Hey. Friday works. I’ll be there.”

She replied almost instantly: “Perfect. Can’t wait to finally meet you properly.”

I spent the next evening preparing like I used to for my very first interview – shirt pressed, hair trimmed, shoes cleaned. Even took out the cologne I’d stopped using unless it was a special occasion. I wasn’t sure why I was doing all that. Maybe it was a habit. Maybe it was hope.

I left home around noon, dressed sharp but not too obvious. A light shirt, clean jeans, the watch I wore for interviews that I still believed could change things. Meera had sent a location earlier, mentioning the office space was under renovation and they were using a guest space temporarily.

I reached the address – it was a quiet residential society, not your usual corporate setup. But after the pandemic, hybrid offices weren’t unheard of. I walked up, still thinking this might be a casual final round.

I buzzed. Meera opened the door, and for a second, I froze. She looked… stunning. In a simple way. Loose black hair, soft curls at the end. She was wearing specs that made her look serious but not cold.

Casual jeans, a breezy top. Maybe 5’4, a little fuller on the sides, but she carried herself confidently. Her skin was dusky, glowing in the natural light spilling into the hallway.

“Hey,” she said with a smile that landed somewhere between warm and mischievous. “You’re on time. I like that.” She stepped aside, and I walked in. The flat smelled faintly of coffee and lavender. Cozy. Lived-in. Not a trace of corporate anywhere.

“Sit,” she said. “I made some coffee. Hope you’re okay with strong.”

I nodded, still trying to adjust to how informal this all felt. She handed me a cup – her fingers brushed mine for a second too long. I pretended not to notice.

We sat on the sofa. She didn’t keep much distance. Her knee almost touched mine. As she asked about my experience, her voice softened. She wasn’t reading from a list anymore – it was free-flowing. Casual. Personal.

“How long have you been in your current role?” she asked, tilting her head and playing with the rim of her cup.

“Thirteen years,” I replied. “Been through a lot with it. But right now… It’s not great.”

“And marriage?” she asked suddenly, her tone unreadable.

That caught me off guard. I gave a half-smile. “Married for six years. My wife’s in IT, too. She’s… brilliant. Beautiful. Supportive. She’s the one who pushed me to come today.”

Meera looked at me for a second longer than necessary. Then she nodded slowly, her gaze dipping for a moment before rising again. She didn’t say anything. Just placed her cup on the table and leaned back – and that’s when I felt it. The shift.

The energy in the room wasn’t professional anymore. Not even close. The silence stretched for a beat too long. Then Meera stood up – not abruptly, but with a certain intention. She walked to the window, looking out, arms crossed. The sun caught the curve of her cheek, and I saw her smile faintly to herself.

“You know,” she said, still facing away, “when I first heard your voice, I just knew.”

I didn’t respond. Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten. She turned slowly and walked back toward me. But instead of sitting where she was earlier, she sat closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her skin and smell the soft perfume on her.

She reached for the remote beside me, her arm grazing mine again – this time not by accident. I looked at her, and she looked right back, eyes calm, searching.

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” she murmured, “but I wanted to meet you… outside work. Not just for the job. Not anymore.”

I opened my mouth to say what, I wasn’t sure. But she reached out and gently touched my hand. Then, without a word, she leaned in – just a little. Before I could react, she planted a soft, lingering kiss on my lips.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was deliberate. Confident. Like she had already made up her mind, and now she was letting me in on the decision.

The shock of her action lingered, but so did the sensation – a jolt, like an electric pulse. Before I could pull away, she withdrew slightly, eyes locked onto mine questioningly. A challenge.

Her thumb brushed over my lip, smearing the remnants of her gloss. I was frozen for a beat, my heart thudding in my ears. My brain wanted more, but my heart was reminding me of my wife.

“I’m married, Meerr…” I tried to say it, but she silenced me with another kiss. “I’ve wanted this since I saw you,” she breathed against my lips. She didn’t give me time to respond as her hands held my neck.

Her tongue demanded entry, and I parted my lips, welcoming it inside. The taste of coffee mingled with her minty freshness. Our tongues entwined, exploring each other’s mouths. She then pulled back and seductively stood. She sat on my lap, facing me, held my chin, and took my mouth inside hers again.

With a moan, Meera ground her hips against me, pressing down so hard I felt her heat through our clothes. “Fuck,” I hissed and gave in. This time, I inserted my hands inside her top from the back. With a massage, I started eating those beautiful lips and started biting her tongue.

Meera ground harder on my bulge, her moans deepening into gasps as our mouths devoured each other. My hands glided down to squeeze her ass, feeling its soft curves through the denim. At the same time, I moved down from her lips to her jaw and then her neck.

Her moans echoed in my ear, hot breath hitting my neck. I moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses along her collarbone, nuzzling into the soft rise of her cleavage. I then unbuttoned her top to get the proper access to her cleavage. I cupped her breasts.

I was feeling their weight and the hardening peaks of her nipples through her bra. My mouth explored her cleavage, and my tongue started licking her cleavage.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” I breathed against her skin. I pulled back to look at her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. I found the front closure of her bra and released her tits. I leaned back slightly to appreciate the view.

They were not that big, not that small – probably a B-cup, perfect, round and firm, topped with perfect pink nipples. After leaving some bite marks on her cleavage, I reached out and grasped both tits in my hands, squeezing them gently.

Her breathing hitched as she watched me intently, pupils dilated, eyes hooded. I latched my mouth around one of her hard peaks, drawing it in deeply. Her fingers flew to my head, digging into my hair. I flicked and sucked, switching back and forth between both perfect mounds.

Her body tensed, spine arching to feed her nipple deeper into my mouth. I moved one hand down to massage her ass through the denim. My teeth grazed her sensitive flesh as my hand trailed downwards, tugging at the button on her jeans.

Meera gasped, but there was no hesitation. She lifted herself to make it easier for me. Her denim slid down smoothly. I slipped my hand inside her panties. My middle finger traced the damp line between her swollen lips before sliding inside her soaked pussy.

“Your fingers!” Meera groaned, shamelessly rubbing her cunt against my hand. “Give it to me.” I slipped another finger in and started pumping, hitting that tender spot inside her that made her squirm.

“You’re a slippery mess already,” I growled, pulling my fingers out to savour her nectar. “But I bet you’re tighter than this.” With those words, I undid my belt buckle and pushed down my pants.

“Fuck,” Meera moaned as I freed my throbbing cock from my boxers. She reached out and wrapped her delicate fingers around my shaft. I nudged her panties aside, spreading her sopping wet folds apart.

She stilled for a moment, taking in the sight of my rigid cock, thick and veined. Then, with a sultry smile, she wrapped her fingers around my shaft and stroked softly. Her touch sent shivers up my spine, making me pulse harder in her grip.

A string of curse words escaped me as I felt precum leak out, coating her fingers. My hips jerked, seeking relief, but Meera tsked playfully, holding me steady. She rubbed her thumb across my slit, swirling the moisture around before sucking it off.

“Damn,” she whispered, eyes locked on mine. “You taste amazing.” I didn’t hold back my groans.

“Enough teasing,” I grunted, grabbing her waist and pulling her forward. Our noses collided. She laughed as I adjusted her, bringing her pussy flush against my cock. “Oh god, fuck, please!”

Meera whimpered, grinding helplessly, riding the ridge of my shaft. Her wetness coated us both, her clit rubbing frantically against me. “Yes?” I taunted, looping a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

“Say it,” I breathed, running my nose up and down her throat. She hesitated, rocking back against me with a whimper. I let go of her waist, guiding her off my lap. “Lie down,” I ordered, and she complied immediately, dropping to the floor on her elbows and knees, just inches from where we’d been kissing.

Without warning, I slapped her ass once, twice – and just entered my shaft in her asshole. “You want it in your ass, don’t you, Meera?” I growled low, keeping my cock at her entrance, coaxing desperate moans from her.

“Tell me,” I demanded. A high-pitched cry left her, followed by a quivering whisper, “Y-yes. Yes! Fuck… I need you… Your cock, in my ass… oh please, fuck me!” And then, just as the first syllable left her lips, I sank into her, filling her.

My thick rod stretched her wide open, silken walls, swallowing every inch with greedy fervour. “Holy fuck!” I roared, pushing my full length in, bottoming out against her pouting asshole. I was relishing her grunt and the way she fisted handfuls of carpet beneath her.

My hands clung to her waist, fingertips sinking into plush curves as I marvelled at her heat gripping me tightly. My thrusts began urgently, pitoning in and out of her ass. Meera rolled her hips, meeting each forceful plunge, yelping at my rugged pace.

“Yes! Yes!” Her hair swung wildly as her head flung backwards. She clawed at the carpet, succumbing to my rhythm. I gripped her hair, dragging her upright against my chest. My right hand moved to her breast, pinching and rolling her erect nipple while my left groped her drenched pussy.

“Shit, shit,” Meera panted, barely containing her scream as I squeezed her breast hard and my other hand dipped deep into her sodden cunt. My fingers curled inside her, feeling that sweet spot that had her shaking uncontrollably. “Yes! God! There! Right… there!”

Meera was a writhing mass of sweat and pleasure in my arms, her body contorting desperately to stay upright. I slowly removed my shaft from her asshole and turned her to face me. I took her lips in my mouth for a few minutes and then made her lay on the floor, legs wide open.

Her scent surrounded me – sweet, musky. Legs spread wider, her glistening lips inviting me. Her eyes met mine, hungry. “Come here,” she commanded. “Put your cock inside me. Fill my hungry pussy.” Her pussy was so swollen it was clearly about to explode anytime.

I grabbed my cock and pressed it against her entrance, not pushing in yet. Slow circles on her clit, watching the way she writhed underneath me. Then, with one swift move, I buried myself balls-deep into her tight, scorching cunt.

As I bottomed out inside her, she gasped loudly, throwing her head back and pulling her hair. “Oh, Vik! Yes! Fill me with that thick dick!” I grabbed her ankles, lifting her heels onto my shoulders.

Leaning forward, I held onto her waist as I began pounding relentlessly, revelling in her screams and begging moans. Every stroke made her squirt intensely, which, in turn, lubricated my thrusts.

Her cries filled the room as I drilled her fast and furious. “Cum for me,” I demanded. “Cream on my fat cock. Mark me.” Her legs trembled, back arching sharply. She let out a shrill wail as her orgasm tore through her, dripping juices all over my cock and down my balls.

Seconds later, her slick muscle clenched tightly around me, milking the load I was ready to give her. I couldn’t take it anymore. In that instant, my hips twitched violently, and I unloaded. Thick ropes of cum splattered deep into her, coating her insides liberally.

Overflowing from her pussy slit to trickle onto her ass cheeks and legs. With each thrust, I shoved more cum inside, marking her thoroughly. “Fuck yeah,” I grunted, slowing my pace. “Take it, Meera. Take all of it.” When I finally pulled out, strings of sticky white followed.

Spent, I collapsed beside her, breathing heavily, equally drenched in sweat. Meera’s eyes fluttered closed, her breaths ragged, one leg still draped over my thigh. “Don’t move,” she sighed sleepily. Brushing her foot against mine, making us stick together with our shared fluids.

But reality pulled at me. I had just cheated on my wife- a fact made crueller by the sheer intensity of the act. Yet, I felt compelled to explain. “I don’t know what to say…” I began, my voice heavy with guilt. “It was insane- I’ve never-…”

“Shh,” Meera hushed me, trailing her nails lightly over my shoulder. Sending a shiver down my spine despite the aftermath of my climax.

She propped herself up on one elbow, her free hand playing with my flaccid cock. She lowered her head to hover centimetres above me, gaze steady and piercing. “It’s just sex, Vik. You know you loved it too. We can have it regularly. I can help you to find a high-paying job with my connections.”

I looked into her eyes, taken aback by the nonchalance in her voice. I rolled over, facing away from her, contemplating. After a moment of silence, I felt her body press against mine. Her naked form was spooned against my back.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, followed by warm whispers, “Look, Vik… I’m not here to judge you or make things awkward. What just happened… happens sometimes. We both needed this, don’t deny it.”

Meera felt me tense. “Vik, look at me,” she coaxed, planting soft kisses along my neck. I hesitated but eventually turned towards her. “Let’s leave emotions out of this,” she murmured, her breath tickling my lips.

“We both are consenting adults, plus you need a high-paying job, don’t you ?” she asked rhetorically, circling my nipple and making it pucker.

“Are you good with flexible arrangements?” Meera’s fingers wandered south, grazing my lower abdomen. “The kind that lets us see each other like this often?” I swallowed hard, but lust had numbed my moral compass.

“What do you mean?” I asked anyway. Her grin darkened as she circled my growing shaft lightly. “Consider me your fairy godmother, Vik. Job offers. Bonuses. Some… perks.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Perks?” I repeated, dumbfounded. She reached for my semi-erect dick, encircling it with her fingers. I was raw, sticky from our recent encounter, and yet still reacting to her touch.

“I do have an influence over certain key decisions,” she explained, stroking slowly, knowing what she was doing to me. “Pocket an extra zero in your paycheck…”

“You mean?” I managed to ask, caught in her rhythm. Meera nodded, thumb smearing precum over my tip. “Think of it as… extra compensation. I’ll see you get that raise you deserve.”

I swallowed hard, focusing as arousal kicked in again. The guilt nagging at me was drowned out by fantasies of a future secured financially, thanks to Meera.

As I got swept into Meera’s web, my cock hardened further. “Okay, Fairy Godmother,” I teased weakly, not quite believing my luck or her words. She smirked, stroking faster now. Suddenly, she climbed on top of me, straddling my thighs.

My stiff cock bounced against her still-wet pussy, but this time I was in my senses. I held her by her hips and pulled her down. I calmly said, “Meera, it’s already too late for today, and I don’t want any suspicions.”

Understanding flashed in her eyes. She kissed me softly and bit my lower lip. “You’re right,” she murmured, moving off me reluctantly. “Next week, I’ll schedule a second round and will officially mail you the invite.” She said with a smirk on her face.

I nodded, picking up my scattered clothes, unsure whether I was elated or overwhelmed, or maybe both. I stepped out of her house. My shirt was half-buttoned, and my hair was still smelling faintly of her. A strange calm settled over me. Not peace – just stillness, like the quiet before a storm.

I had said yes, not in words, but in actions. I’d agreed to play along to keep her satisfied. In return, she’d use her connections to land me the kind of job I could only dream of. The guilt was there, crawling under my skin, but so was the hunger – the desperation to fix my life, to feel wanted again, to stop losing.

As I drove home, her words echoed in my mind: “Trust me, Vik. This is just the beginning.”

And God help me, I think I believed her.

That was it for today, guys. Tell me how it was, and share your valuable feedback at [email protected].