As an office worker, taking care of the office sometimes means giving an office boob job or two.
Really, a daily office boob job is not a hardship for me.
When you rank low in the office, you get stuck with a lot of mindless tasks. For example, a newbie is usually in charge of picking up coffee. Sometimes they have to print papers or place food orders for the team. It’s all team chores passed down from one newbie to the next.
But I often got out of them, and that’s because I had an agreement with my supervisor. When I first interviewed for my job, I arrived in a low cut shirt and pencil skirt, with obvious garter belts and thigh highs. My white shirt revealed a darker bra underneath. But despite revealing my body assets to my interviewer, I made sure to put in extra effort into my hair. My hair was raised and clipped behind me while my face had neutral makeup. Admittedly, my lipstick may have been a touch brighter than necessary.
I research before I interview. I want to know about the company, about the culture, about what’s brought in and what I can expect to do. Of course, this is all what someone should do before a job interview, if possible. However, I know sometimes we just fly by the seat of our pants!
But this was not one of those times. This was cold, calculated, and meticulously planned. Above all that I listed what I researched, there was one more thing I knew. That is to say, I knew who my interviewer would be. I knew his provocations from his Kik ID and Facebook accounts. To summarize, my interviewer B was not very secure with his accounts and had a big google presence. For me, this meant I knew how much he loved tits.
And his desires were my weapon.
The Interview
The moment I walked in, I held the power. B sat straight up in his seat, his eyes big and round. In fact, he forgot to offer me a seat. Instead of drawing attention to it, I went ahead and sat across from him, my knees together but ankles apart. More importantly than showing off my boobs, I wanted him to think he had easy access to my pussy.
“Um, so…” He began, tearing his eyes away from my chest. As he looked away, I simultaneously adjusted my posture, puffing my chest out a little more. When he glanced back at me to make eye contact, I thought I could hear him whimper.
“Your application…” he began, tongue-tied and red. And yet, we both knew he never glanced at it. In fact, I’m pretty sure the company planned for someone else in my job.
“Yes. About the temporary staff worker job? Elise.” I smiled back at him, making my voice as pleasant as possible. Honey and bass, I thought to myself. To clarify, I wanted my voice to sound as close to purring in a lover’s ear as possible.
“Your… qualifications,” B stammered. “It’s really just–” He dropped my application over the desk, and apologized. “I just–”
“I know it’s a basic job. A lot of phone answering, paper organizing, mailing, being pleasant to guests entering the business,” I replied, making sure to enunciate each word. His eyes followed my lips, and he licked his own.
“There’s other responsibilities. You’ll have to order lunch. Uh, coffee. Yeah.”
“Oh, no. I don’t do coffee,” I answered, moving my legs and crossing them. “If it spilled all over this blouse?” I motioned to the buttons on my chest. “No, sir.”
B gripped the edges of his desk.
The Offer of an Office Boob Job a Day
Don’t worry. Despite what you may think, this doesn’t turn into a humiliating blackmail story. Immediately, I offered B a mutually beneficial arrangement.
“I don’t mean to deprive the team,” I offered. “I know you work long hours, often covering for others. That’s why the job went up, right?” I leaned forward. Meanwhile, B seemed to pale. “So I’m offering something else. I know how to work the guest’s end of things. And,” I offered, unbuttoning my blouse, “I’d be more than happy to put these babies to work for you, boss.”
Instantly, B’s face flushed.
“Let me help the team by helping you relax. For example, every day, I’ll give you an office boob job.” I went ahead and took off my blouse and climbed onto his desk, right over my application. “And if you don’t want to hire me, that’s fine. You just seem tense already, so I thought I’d offer you an office boob job right here.”
Unsurprisingly, B nodded, quite quickly. He leaned back and let me see his crotch. As I suspected, his cock tented up, straining against his pants. So I knelt down under the desk, took off my bra, and looked up at him. I fluttered my eyes. “This ok?” I asked him.
“Y-Yes,” the man uttered, his face red. So, I smiled at him and bounced my chest as I pulled him from his pants. Then I set him right against my warm, soft breasts, directly in the middle of my chest. Next, I pushed my boobs together. I’ll let you picture how long it lasted. 😉
And that’s how I exchanged a daily office boob job for not making coffee.
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