look at my face

Sir, thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know you are a busy man.

(uncomfortable throat clearing and short pause to collect your thoughts)

I know you mean that as a compliment, but I'd rather not be objectified, Sir.

...

With all due respect, Sir. Calling me a (take a breath) 'fine piece of ass' is objectification in most anybody's book. I'm not sure if this was acceptable behavior in the 50s, but today, this is totally

(subtle gasp - as you listen)

I'm sure you are aware of the corporate policy concerning sexual harassment. I must have misheard your last comment because if you really commented on my (breathe heavily) 'beautiful tits', I'd have to report you right now.

Please. I did not come into your office to hear how you appreciate my body. As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you about my assignments and my position under you.

(distracted and slightly bewildered) No thank you. No Whiskey for me.

(focused again) Exactly three months ago, you hired me and I'm still waiting for a job description. May I remind you, I finished first in my class and I excelled at every previous job. I hope I made it clear that I want to work as hard and as long as it takes. I want this to be an important step in my career.

(distracted and slightly annoyed) No, I don't smoke. Thank you.

Sir? Are you with me?

I was saying I'm an ambitious young woman. I did not apply for this job because to just sit around, answer the phone once in a while and bring you coffee.

(gasp)

This was extremely sexist. What does that even mean? 'A sexy woman shouldn't have to work?' I'm not some trophy secretary from the past. I'm a modern working girl trying...

(...)

No. I'm not sitting back down. If you don't tell me why you hired me and how you are planning on applying my skills for the good of this department, I will...

(pause)

Are you even listening? My eyes are up here!

I know the office dress code doesn't make it easy, but try to take your eyes off my chest.

(slowly getting angry) Thank you. By the way. How could corporate even sign off on something that was so blatantly revealing. I mean even a the flat chested girls look like hookers; braless in white tight blouses. (squeezing your tits in rage) But with a real bosom like this, it's impossible to make it though the day without ripping the thin fabric or popping buttons.

And then the leggings. Don't even get me started on these flimsy leggings. They come with a shaving kit. Can you believe that? Yes they do. The waistline is so low, that you'd see inches of pubic hair. Then they are so tight and stretchy you can't wear panties. They hug every girls crotch. If you don't tug on them, you have cameltoe. But if you pull them down too low, you risk exposing your clitoris.

Yes. I lost count of how many times a girl took me aside and told me my fucking clit was showing. The first time I thought I'd die of shame.

And you know what the worst part about those leggings is? The seem is constantly rubbing the vulva. They must have been designed by men. Who else would chose a light grey cotton blend that turns dark when getting moist? What the fuck. You are not supposed to see when a lady gets aroused.

Arrghh!

(breathe, compose yourself)

I'm sorry Sir. This was totally inappropriate. I apologize. You did not make the dress code and you are not the appropriate person to report wardrobe issues among the female staff.

(shocked and embarrassed) Oh my god.

(quiet, demure and vulnerable ), I popped a button. I'm very sorry I shouldn't have squeezed my breasts when I was complaining about this blouse. Now I'm sitting naked in front of my boss. (wimpering, cry if you want ot)

I can't believe I just did this. After working my ass off graduation from an ivy league college, I ruin everything by getting emotional. Look at me I'm sitting naked in front of my boss.

(if crying:) Thank you. (blow your nose) A real handkerchief.

I'm so sorry. This was so unprofessional. Can we pretend this never happened?

Yes it's ok. Look all you want. It's not your fault I ripped this open. Yes they are real. Do you think so? Thank you. Yep. They started growing when I was about 11 and haven't stopped since.

Blessed? So far they have been a curse. You wouldn't believe the trouble they have caused me. They ruined my career as a gymnast and academically I had to work twice as hard because of them. People can't look past them. All they have ever seen was the girl with the enormous chest.

(incredulously - giving the exist pig a bit of attitude again) Oh really? You could. You of all men? Sitting in that big leather chair in your corner office, smoking that big cigar sipping your whiskey, with a suspicious bulge in your dress pants.

You of all men could see me for the smart business woman I actually am?

You don't expect me to believe that.

You couldn't even keep your eyes on my face for a minute.

(shocked) What? Blow you? And if you can't make it what do I get?

A promotion? Really? (thinking about it)

How about this. To make this more fu: Two full minutes looking me straight in the eye. No touching. If you win, you can fuck me. If I win you resign and recommend me as your successor.

Deal! Let me set the timer. Ready.

(giggle or chuckle a bit)

Oh, we have a poker player. Has anybody ever told you how hot you look with this serious look on your face. You think you are really tough. Don't you?

But I know you are just an old perv who wants to stare at my exposed big tits. Can you tell if my nipples are hard from over there? You probably can because you have some peripheral vision. But what if I come closer?

What if I walk past this huge desk. It's hard to see my swaying hips, my tight ass in these stretchy pants. Muscles in in my thighs and calves flexing as I walk. Maybe you can make out my tits jiggling on my chest every time my heels touch the ground. Just in case you are unsure. My nipples ARE hard. I enjoy this.

You stay seated Mister. This way you can see my tits while staring at my face when I look down at you.

Oh. Do I see sweat poor down your face? Is this too much?

Can you smell my moist cunt less than two feet from your nose. How you wish you could just take a quick look. Just one second darting down to my crotch. Just to check if you can see a moist spot on my camel toe cunt. Why don't you? It's so easy. Just one look.

I see. You are playing hard mode. Still staring at my face, huh.

Oh daddy. Look - you dropped your big cigar. It fell out of your mouth. Let me squat down and pick it up. My tits are huge aren't they? When I squat like this, they rest on my thighs. (mocking) Aww. You can't look. I forgot.

Then I better stand back up. Slowly so you can keep your eyes on my face. Do I look hot with this thick cigar between my pearly white teeth? What is it with girls and cigars? You want me to take a puff? My lips sealed around the thick, dark smoking hot thing? My cheeks caving in as I take a long drag.

...

(exhale)

And blowing... Blowing a big smoke ring.

Oops. I think my pants must have slipped down a bit when I squatted. I can feel your breath on my exposed wet clit. Nonono! No touching, Mister. I'd report you to corporate if you dare touch me without consent. Just 10 more seconds and you can fuck me.

Or you take your eyes off my face and lick my needy little clit. My daddy always says I taste so yummy.

(little girl voice) Come on daddy, lick my clitty. I need it. I need your tongue on my tingly slit again. Pwetty Pwease! Help me. My vagina is so wet again, daddy and I don't know what to do.

(switch Milf voice) Good boy. Lick me slowly. You are my bitch now. You lost this bet and ... Oh shit. The timer. Was that a minute already. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

(Pleading) Please! Not my ass. I've never had anybody up my ass! Please!

(fin)