How to Get a Job at Fucking

"Like I said, Paul, I know exactly who I am," she continued, talking in a seemingly professional manner while showcasing these obscene images. "I am a slut! A huge slut! The sluttiest of the sluts. The skankiest of the skanks. The trashiest of the trashy. The whoriest of the whores. Ever since I grew tits, I've been letting guys, and the occasional girl, play with them. I've been told I should be ashamed of myself, that no one likes a slut, but I don't care. I love it! I love being a slut! It's my best my quality. Paul, I am really, REALLY, good at sex, like, amazing at it. You do your work in the boardroom, I work in the bedroom."

"Oh my God..." I said to myself, rubbing my eyes in disbelief at what was happening in front of me. When I looked up at her, she smiled, loving my consternation. She was loving it so much that her nipples were evident beneath her top, throbbing to escape into the cool air of my office. And I had a bad feeling, no matter what I said and did, they would be soon getting their wish. Why was I letting this happen?

"Now, the next step you list is 'Do Your Research', and, as you will see a little bit later in this presentation, I have gone above and beyond in that category," she said with a hungry smirk, as if desperate to reveal that delicious part of the plan, a plan that made her mouth water. "But before that, the next part is what I mentioned before. I'm controlling my image. Like I've said repeatedly, to put it bluntly, I'm a slut."

Tori paused for a moment, putting her hands on her hips, jutting her chest out, showing off her impressive frame.

"I mean, look at me," she began. Staring right at me, she brought her hands up and slid them under her large breasts, bouncing them in her palms before squeezing them lightly, grazing her fingers over her protruding nipples. She turned to the side and let her hand slide down her torso and over her round, jutting ass. "It's no secret I'm the office slut. With a body like mine, it's hard not to be. I'm built for sex... what's wrong with me doing what I'm good at?"

I simply shook my head. I didn't know if I was just tired and this was some strange dream, but I couldn't figure out how to respond to this bold attempt at seduction. Tori turned back to face me and brought her hands to her top. Working deftly, her fingers got to work, unbuttoning her blouse. This motion caused me to jump slightly. Was she disrobing just like that?

"No need for me to play it coy anymore," she stated, unbuttoning her top halfway down, so her giant, barely covered breasts and red bra were exposed. "If I accept that I'm a slut, I've got to at least look like one. And besides, there's nothing wrong with a bit of cleavage," she said proudly, downplaying the size of the crevasse between her bulbous breasts that was now exposed to me. "It's all good, clean fun, right?" she chirped with a sickeningly sweet smile.

I didn't respond. I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to let this play out. She probably took this as some sort of endorsement of her crazy plan.

"Tori, this has gone too far already..." I began, keeping my cool as I looked to end this.

"But, I'm just getting started," she replied, "And you promised to hear me out."

"Yeah, well, I think I've seen enough." I responded, looking away from her.

"Hon, you haven't seen anything yet," she said wickedly. Undeterred, and before I could interrupt her again, she continued her presentation. "So, anyway, clearly, I know myself very well. But part of this is you knowing yourself, knowing who YOU really are," she said, pointing at me.

"What?" I asked, a bit exasperated with this whole game already.

"Now, I don't know if you know this, but I've never really liked you that much," she admitted. This admission caused me to bark in laughter.

"If you don't even like me, then... why are you even doing this?" I replied, raising my hands questioningly.

"Exactly," she said, pointing at me as if I hit the exact point she was making. "I couldn't figure it out either. I mean, I find you annoying and completely full of shit. I see your act. I know what you do. No one else does, but I do. I could see through your bullshit, I can't stand this fucking good guy act of yours, but I couldn't stop thinking about riding your, no doubt, fat cock until I can't think straight."

"Jesus," I said, sweating a little, shocked at her casual depravity.

"Trust me, you are SO not the type of guy I'm normally into. I mean, no offense, but to a girl like me, you're kinda boring. Guys like you don't typically have the type of fun that women like me need. So, I started thinking... maybe there's more to you than meets the eye. Maybe deep down, beyond that stiff, dull, boring façade, this whole good guy, everybody's friend act, maybe there's a dirty fucking stud just BURSTING to get out," she said, smiling proudly, acting out an explosion with her arms, causing her big breasts to bounce. "Bursting to get out... dying to be exactly the type of guy I crave."

At this hypothesis, I simply closed my eyes and rubbed my palm on my forehead.

"Tori..." I began.

"I know you think I'm completely off-base, but think about it. I mean, I can't stand you, but for some reason, I can't stop thinking about you. The only explanation is that you are, in fact, exactly my type of guy. And, if I'm right, that would make me exactly you're type of girl," she said perkily, looking down at me. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"Ha... Tori, you certainly have a very... interesting... view of things, but you are completely off-base." I said, trying to be as civil as possible considering what she was proposing.

"I knew you would say that," she said, smirking while rolling her eyes. Looking upwards, she continued. "I mean, it is kind of odd that you seem to always find an excuse to talk to me. You've heard the stories. The nasty rumors. A guy like you in management shouldn't be caught anywhere near a dirty slut like me, but you always found a reason to stop and chat. Chat it up with the office skank."

"I talk to everybody! That's part of being a good manager!" I said, losing my patience slightly.

She was right about one thing. I had heard plenty of rumors about her. Even though, as I said before, I didn't give life to rumors, that didn't mean I hadn't heard them. And the more she went on, as over-the-top as this had already gotten, the crazy things I had heard about her were starting to sound more believable.

Obviously, I had heard that had fucked her way to her current position, but those rumors were positively tame compared to some others I had heard. Among those things was that she had willingly performed a full-on strip tease on one of the desks down on the fifth floor during a Christmas party. I had also heard a rumor that we had hired a really good prospect straight out of college a few years back, and on his first day, he was caught fucking Tori in one of the supply closets. They were caught by one of the bosses, and although the guy was immediately fired, Tori eventually convinced the guy who caught them to fuck her, turning this penalty into a promotion. Another thing was that one of the other secretaries was spreading nasty rumors about Tori to whoever would listen. Tori apparently went to that woman's house and slept with her husband. That woman quit the next day. I had also heard that there was an email thread with sexy pictures of Tori, promising full-on shots of her naked breasts. And then, to my surprise, that email had ended up in my inbox, but I had been a good guy and deleted the email immediately without opening it.

At times seemed like there was a secret club of men who had been spent one wild night with Tori K. A brotherhood. And you would think that her sole success with men in the company with be with that type of swarthy, douchebags who were willing to play at her level. One of THOSE guys, you know? But then it would be revealed that someone that I was aware knew better energetically leapt into bed with her. Fallen victim to her wiles. One of my oldest friends, a guy named Louis that I had gone to college with, after he left the company, the rumor was that he had cheated on his girlfriend with Tori. I knew he would never do that kind of thing, that this was just a nasty rumor. But when me and a few co-workers ran into him, and one of them brought up Tori, knowingly mentioning her body to him, I could see the heat behind his eyes, and it was clear there was some sort of history there between him and Tori.

I tried to keep my head above this stuff, but these rumors had a habit of reoccurring, no matter how much I tried to avoid them. Even I had my weak moments. When I had heard a guy talking worshipfully about her chest, although he shut down the conversation as soon as he saw me, there was a part of me kinda hoping to hear more, just cause of deep seeded masculine curiosity. If the rumors were true, Tori had a habit of making men do bad things, and staying above the fray seemed to be the best idea.

"But even good managers know better than to be seen with a whore like myself." Tori continued, as if reading my mind, but was simply continuing the conversation we had been having. "Every other one of the big managers steer well clear of me, but not you. Every chance you get, you leap at the opportunity to talk to me. A good guy like you... you just want a little taste of the other side, don't you? A sample of the dark delights you're missing out on," she said, her voicing lowering to a lusty tone, moving around the desk.

Why did I talk to her? I mean, like I said, I liked to judge people for myself, but there was pretty overwhelming evidence in the case of Tori K. Sure, I would never not be cordial to someone and I think that was all I was with her. I never wanted anything more from her. I didn't want her to flirt with me. I wasn't interested in her in that way. It wasn't like I was one of THOSE guys... right? All those guys, who acted like they disliked Tori or looked down at her, but when the time came they were still happy to leap into bed with her. No... no. I wasn't like that. I was not that type of guy. I had self-control. I was better than that. But Tori was unconvinced.

"You kid yourself into thinking you're being nice, but you just want to get close to me. You want to smell me. And maybe, if you get lucky, you'll get one good taste..." she said, moving in close, purring in my ear, causing me to shiver. I felt the softness of her huge breasts pressing against my arm, and this contact caused me to jump. I moved away from her, not daring to look, as she stepped back around the table, content with not pushing forward too quickly.

"I think perfect Paul Martin has a little crush..." she began, cocking her head at me slightly as she walked back towards her projected presentation. "I think someone's in love with my huge titties!" she sang, giving them a little jiggle. I couldn't help but glance at them for a moment, but it was enough. Her smirk told me she noticed.

"So, by the end of this interview, I will not only prove that you need a slut like me by your side, but I will prove that you are actually the dirty, slut-mongering asshole you pretend you're not." she said professionally, as if presenting the fourth quarter earnings.

"Okay, so, I'm gonna power through a couple of the other points so I can get to the good stuff. With your point about clichés making your eyes glaze over, clearly, you've never seen anything like me. And besides, it's not gonna be cliché's making your eyes glaze over. And, not being afraid to blow you away... I mean, c'mon? You're practically spelling out how you want a slut on her knees... 'blowing you' away. And then, thinking outside the box, ignoring the list... clearly, I'm way ahead of you there," she said, quickly clicking through the slides.

"And that brings me to the good stuff," she said, smiling wickedly, as if this was the moment she had been waiting for. She clicked to the next slide. "Now, there are two points left... 'Set Yourself Apart' and 'Do Your Research'. And, to me, they're intertwined. Now, there are plenty of other candidates, and as I said before, their qualifications are impeccable. They have me beat. But, to take my place as your personal whore, then it's not the other applicants I'm competing against," she paused, and gave me a smug, arrogant glance. "The person I'm competing against is your wife."

She advanced the slideshow, and up appeared a picture of Andrea, my wife. I moved forward in my seat slightly, caught off guard. The picture was just showing her face, the sun shining through her hair, her brilliant teeth flashing at the camera. It was a great picture, but knowing it was Tori showing me this sent a surge of concern through me, as if I knew deep down what she was about to do.

"This is your wife, Andrea. Pretty as a peach, and sweet as can be." Tori affirmed. "I've met her, and yeah, she is as nice as everyone says. She is totally perfect wife material," she said, her lip curled up slightly, as if there was something insidious hidden within this seemingly sweet compliment. She advanced the slides forward to another picture, this one of Andrea and Tori, standing side-by-side at a Christmas party, smiling. "Girls sniff each other out immediately. And even a girl like Andrea, the sweet perfect Kindergarten teacher, she had to know I was the office skank. But like the sweetheart she is, and like the nice, sweet husband she married, she didn't shy away from chatting me up, being friendly and nice to the dirtiest tramp in the office. Of course, her daddy pulled her away pretty quick, cause he knows better, but you two, you're like moths to the flame, attracted to your own destruction."

I sat there in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop. As if on cue...

"But..." she began, with an arrogant smirk, "We did have time to snap this picture, and honestly, I think this kind of sums up the whole thing." The picture itself was in the office, Andrea and Tori side by side. Andrea looked stunning, her golden blonde hair hanging down past her shoulders, perfectly styled. She wore a slim cocktail dress, the material hugging her slim, athletic body. It was formal and tasteful, not showing too much of anything. Her chest was mostly covered, only the upper chest bared, and the dress went down to her knees. Her legs appeared from the dress, leading down to her stylish high-heels. She looked stunning. She was the perfect picture of restrained, mature, adult, feminine sexuality. Classy, but restrained.

Tori was the opposite.

If Andrea was in a cocktail dress, Tori was in a prom dress. Andrea's cocktail dress was a formal black, Tori's was a flashy red. Tori wanted all eyes on her, and with the amount of skin she was showing, she was succeeding. The dress was scooped very low, showing an expansive amount of her bulbous breasts and deep cleavage. The dress molded to her voluptuous frame and covered just enough of her to remain decent. The dress ended halfway up her thighs, and the thin straps left her arms bare. On her feet were a pair of high-heels, which helped showcase her long, firm legs. Her makeup looked more like she was ready for a night at the club, and her hair was perfectly composed in a wild, wicked manner.

While Andrea's look came across as composed and classy, Tori looked more brazen and wild. Something about her, not only her outfit, but her look, her hair, her makeup... there was a certain wickedness that came across very obviously. Andrea was smiling warmly in the photo, but Tori, she was almost smirking, as if teasing the viewer.

"You see it, just like I do. Your wife, looking great, just the perfect corporate wife, and me, the office whore, looking even better." Tori stated. "Now, I'm not just doing this to show pictures of me looking hot. This is the lead in to the main... thrust... of my pitch as to why I should be your assistant. And that pitch is how I, Tori K, have your wife beat in every possible way." With that, she pulled a laser pointer from her pocket and continued.

"Now, I want you to look at the picture, Paul, really examine it," she teased, but that smirk of her was getting under my skin, and she knew it. Through gritted teeth, I just looked up at her, my silence the only assent I was gonna give her. She pointed the laser dot at Andrea. "I mean, your wife is pretty, I'll give her that, and she at least seems fit, which is good. But let's examine the important things. Let's start right here," she said, shining the laser dot at Andrea's chest. "Let's talk about your wife's breasts, Paul. Does it bother you that your wife is as flat as a board?"

"Tori..." I warned, my blood boiling, but she loved it. She was loving the anger she was causing me.

"Ooh, I hit a sore spot, it seems. I'm sorry, but all girls compare cup sizes. I didn't realize it was a touchy subject to you. So, it bothers you how small and pathetic your wife's breasts are?" Tori asked casually.

"Tori!" I called out again, losing my cool. "Don't talk about my wife."

"But Paul, that's all I'm gonna be talking about, so please, calm down," she said, slightly shaking her breasts side-to-side, emphasizing their size as she seemingly tried to cool my anger with the sight of her bouncing boobs. "I know the truth can be tough to hear, but we all know it. It's a fact. Andrea has itty bitty titties. They're mosquito bites. I mean, all the women in the office like her, but we all can't believe how tiny her little titties are. We all can't believe you settled down with a woman with breasts so small, when you easily could have been with a girl with tits so much bigger. C'mon, Paul, you have to admit your wife's tits are, like, crazy small," she contested, stealthily unbuttoning another button on her top, allowing more of her copious breast flesh to become visible.

"I love my wife's chest just fine." I said, looking away, wanting to change the subject. As I said before, a girl's cup size doesn't change my feelings on her. The foundation of a sturdy relationship is based on stronger things than that. I mean, all things the same, would I mind if she had bigger breasts? Of course not. But honestly, Andrea is perfect the way she is.

"Just fine, huh? Not a really strong endorsement." Tori said. "Now, look at mine." I just looked her in the eyes, not wanting to play along. "C'mon Paul, the sooner you do, the sooner this ends. The sooner your eyes are hungrily gazing on the smooth, hot, sexy flesh of my giant breasts, the sooner we can move on." I held her gaze, resisting her invitation. "Fine. You can look at the real thing, or the picture, either choice is fine." I lazily shifted my glance back to the picture, where Tori was shining the laser at her own pictured, jutting chest. "Look at my tits, Paul. So big...so soft...so perfect...34 EE's, baby, and they are all real. Just imagine squeezing them, playing with them... the softness is addicting, you'll never get enough," she said, her tone low and lusty as she moved closer to my desk, leaning over it again. "Have you ever thought about squeezing my tits, Paul?" she asked, shaking her tits slightly, trying to get me to look at her exposed cleavage. I glanced at her in the eyes, the look in my eyes voicing my displeasure. "I bet you have. I mean, me and Andrea, together, it really showcases the differences between us. Your wife is all flat and dull, but I have all these luscious curves. My tits... my ass," she said, turning slightly to point her butt at me. "She's pretty. I'm hot. She's classy, I'm dirty. She's a wife... I'm a slut."

"All men need a slut, Paul. Especially men in power. They work so hard and do so much good, every so often, they just need to vent all that stress somewhere. I'm sure all the big bosses you idolize have sluts like me too. Men like you... they need to do all the sick, disgusting, hot things they could never do with their wives. Things they couldn't possibly do to a woman they respect. That's why women like me exist, Paul. That's the role we play. All men have these needs, and women like me can provide them," she affirmed, pausing for a moment, clasping her hands together.