How to Get a Job at Fucking

"You are out there, Tori." I said, shaking my head at her insanity. She just smirked.

"Now, I can tell you things about your wife that only you know. Things that only sluts like me can see. For example, Andrea strikes me as being a bit... precious... in bed. I bet she makes you do all the work. Sure, she buys some lingerie that she thinks is fancy, but it's actually pretty cheap and unflattering. I bet she whispers adorable dirty talk, talks to you in between the sheets, lies back, spreads her legs, and lets you do your thing. She doesn't talk, she just moans cutely in your ear. She clutches you tight as you take care of her needs, and sure, you feel the love, but it's not love that makes a guy's balls boil. You don't know enough to know that what she's giving you is the beginner stuff, and you're too nice to ask for the good stuff. You both are practically begging for a slut like me to swoop in and show you what real fucking is all about," she finished, gesturing her arm as she did so, brushing it against her jutting rack. I bet those huge breasts got in the way a lot... wait, what am I thinking?

"You don't know what you're talking about," I replied, not letting myself think about her words too much.

"Well, I think you're lying, and I can prove it. Because I've done my research, and I know exactly what type of woman Andrea is." Tori affirmed. She advanced the slide show. When a picture popped, my eyes widened in genuine shock.

"This is the contents of your wife's underwear drawer," she said. Projected across from me was my wife's underwear, strewn neatly across my marital bed.

"You broke into my house!?" I said loudly.

"I didn't technically break in," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I can be quite convincing, and your housekeeper isn't exactly the brightest of the bunch. I told her that me and Andrea were total besties, and I wanted to check and see if she had this purse I was getting for her. Not the best lie in the world, but Rosa bought it, so, yeah..."

I shook my head, gawking in shock. Tori had been in my house, my bedroom? She was insane!

"So, as I was saying, this is all your wife's underwear," she resumed, taking advantage of my silence, acting as if this was totally normal. "And I must say, I am not impressed. I mean, not a single thong in the bunch. No thongs, no g-strings, what is this, the 50's?" On the screen was picture after picture of my wife's underwear, nothing skimpy. She wasn't that type of girl. All of it was full-coverage, covering her butt. Some of it was more practical, stuff she wore to work, simple, utilitarian undergarments. She did have some more sexy stuff, a few lace bras and panties, some sexy nighties and camisoles, stuff like that. But, looking at all of this laid out like this, I suppose I could see the argument she was making. I suppose one could say this stuff was a bit on the plain side, but I was never one to complain. "Now, here is a real woman's underwear."

She changed the slide, and my eyes widened. The same shot she had taken of my wife's underwear strewn across my bed was replicated, no doubt on her own bed. And while my bed was a classy soft beige color, this bed was black satin and an expensive looking red sheet. The contrast was striking. It was clear my bed was designed to hold a happy, content couple, and Tori's... her bed was used for fun. On the bed were tiny bits of fabric, thin and lacy and all different colors. The last things these garments were designed for was practicality. They were designed to highlight the wearer. I couldn't help but take in all the bras and thongs and G-strings on the bed. Did thongs really come that small? And some of the stuff there, I had no idea how a person could wear it.

"This is the contents of my underwear drawer, but honestly, most modern sluts nowadays would have similar things. A girl's gotta be committed to looking hot 24/7, because for women like me, sex can happen at any time. Like last weekend, I was at this restaurant with some friends, and this guy, while sitting next to his wife and kids, could not take his eyes off my tits. I mean, yeah, I admit, the top I was wearing made me look like a total slut, but this was a married man. He should know better, right?" she said, giving me a knowing smirk. "I give him the look and the nod, and while his wife cleaned up after the rugrats, mister nice, married man was railing my tight cunt in the bathroom. So that was nice. And then, oh yeah, like, the week before, me and some of my friends were at the bar, and my friend's older sister was just drinking me in with her eyes all fucking night. And this chick was, like, the hottest lesbian I've ever seen. I don't think my friend knew her older sister was into chicks, and, who knows, maybe she wasn't and my hot body was enough to make her switch teams, but I could tell immediately she wanted a piece of my ass. That whole night, she had her hands all over me. When no one could see, she had her hand on my ass, squeezing it like she couldn't get enough. She slid her hand down my skirt, fingering me, keeping me dripping wet all fucking night. And whenever she could, she would find some excuse to put her hands on my big tits. I didn't have to do anything, my hot body was enough to make this super-hot chick just fucking drool over me. When she offered to give me a ride home, I knew exactly what the ride would entail. Needless to say, minutes later, me and her were in the backseat, pulled over in some parking lot somewhere. She had pulled my thong to the side and she was rimming my ass. And when she got at my pussy...God, that girl made me gush," she trailed off in a warm silence, letting that heated scene linger, slyly popping undone another button on her top.

I didn't know what to say to that. I mean, yeah, it sounded like a very, uh... sexually charged scene, but I couldn't let that affect me. I couldn't let my mind go down that road.

"So, you see, for a chick like me, with a body like mine, sex can happen at any time, with anyone. I'm the type of girl that guys throw their vows away for. I'm the type of girl that women get hot for, no matter how much they fucking hate me. And also note, that even though I will be your assistant, that appeal won't go away. Guys will be jealous that you have this hot piece of ass as your assistant, and they will respect the fact that you've locked this down. And other chicks, they'll want a piece of the pie. They'll want a piece of you, or a piece of me. So, hiring me isn't just bringing me into your bed. It's bringing all sorts of dirty sluts in too. I'm your ticket to a future full of filthy sex. Doesn't that sound exciting?" she asked with a wide smile, her top now undone to the point of showing off part of her fit belly. Her excitement was clearly one-sided.

"This is what a man like you needs from an assistant," she stated. "Booty. Copious amounts of top-shelf ass. These are things I can provide that no one else can. This is what being a good assistant entails."

"Edwin... he was a great assistant." I pointed out. "He was someone who did the type of work I respect. He did the type of work that gets you places." This argument didn't affect her. In fact, it made her smile in such a smug manner that it made a bolt of concern shoot through me.

"Do you really want to know why Edwin left?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

"He got a job offer at a good company who recognized his good work, and he took it," I said, confused as to what she was leading to. She rolled her eyes at my response.

"Edwin left because I fucked his brains out at the company cookout, and after he confessed to his wife, like an idiot, she made him vow to move across the country, away from me. So you can't hold him up as this paragon of virtue, cause he was just like all the rest, just wanting a piece of Tori K's ass," she replied smugly, making sure to point her butt at me as she did so. I was floored by this. I remembered his wedding day quite well. He loved his wife so much, and she loved him. There was no way he cheated on her. No way.

"That's... that's not true, he... he... he's married, and his wife..." I stammered, completely caught off guard. She turned her back to me and...

SMACK!

My stuttering was interrupted by Tori smacking her own ass crisply, and the bouncing of her firm ass-cheek stole my attention, and the words from my mouth.

"None of that mattered compared to this," she said, proudly shaking her ass at me. She turned back to face me. "And these..." she said, cupping her hands under her huge breasts. "His new job pays, like, way less than this one, has way less benefits, and less room to move up. All because his pathetic fucking guilt prevented him from keeping his mouth shut. Eh, it's not that big a deal for me, anyway. He wasn't that good of a fuck." I shook my head, not believing this. I knew Edwin, he wouldn't cheat on his wife... right?

"No, no, he left because he got a good job offer, a better position," I began.

"Paul, he lied to you to save face. His new job is much worse, trust me." She approached my desk slowly, confidently. "Everyone lets you down in the end, Paul. All these perfect people have their sins. Have their dark sides. You're no different. All those life lessons you taught him fell aside when he was in close proximity to these tits," she said, shaking her breasts, again using her body to lure my reluctant gaze. I pulled my attention away, shaking my head, hoping she was lying, but deep down having a nagging suspicion that she might be telling the truth.

At this point, I wanted nothing more than to extricate myself from this incredibly awkward situation, but I knew deep down, if I tried to simply kick her out or try to end this decisively, she would take this whole thing to another level. This Edwin thing, it had wounded me, and I feared what other secrets she could bust out if I kept trying to push her away. Unfortunately, the safest play might just be to let this play out and keep everything at a level I could handle.

I tried not to think about why I kept letting this circus continue, why I was finding reasons to not just call security. Why I kept letting Tori stay in this office and keep going with this brazen seduction. For some reason, maybe cause I was still in shock over the Edwin thing, I didn't try to stop her here. I just let her continue.

She gestured at the screen, forcing my attention back to her presentation. Back to her bed, covered with her thin, lacy underthings. For some reason, this one red thong caught my attention. It was tiny, and lacy, with just enough material to cover her nether regions, but gosh, I just don't see how it could cover anything. The thong was so small, and the lace was so thin... even if it covered her, you would no doubt be able to see EVERYTHING. I bet she looked amazing wearing some of those. They would really highlight her many curves. And the little red strings of the thong were so tiny... the middle string would just disappear between her... no, NO. Stop thinking about this stuff, I told myself. I shook myself out of my revere, hoping she didn't notice my momentary interest in her underwear. She didn't hesitate, ready to continue her presentation.

"This is my resume, Paul. This is the clearest illustration of my many talents. This picture is the most plain argument I can possibly make about why I belong in the corporate world." I didn't even try to understand her logic. I was silent and I just let her continue. "But as we all know, great clothing is only as great as the person who wears them. So..." She clicked forward to the next slide, and what appeared there really shocked me.

It was pictures of my wife in her underwear.

"What the hell?" I asked, unable to contain my shock. She simply smiled that Cheshire cat grin of hers, filling me with anger. There were two pictures of Andrea, one from the front and one from the back. They appeared to be taken from the bathroom she used, after her shower. "How did you get this?" I asked.

"I did my research," she replied calmly. "When I was in your house, I was pretty busy. It's not too complicated to put a spy cam in your wife's bathroom. I just hid it in there, went back the next day when no one was around to pick it up."

"Wait, how did you get in?" I asked, the first of a million questions I had.

"I took a set of keys, silly," she replied, as if the answer was obvious.

"You have keys to my house!?" I asked, incredulous.

"Well, if I'm gonna be your assistant, I need full access to every aspect of your life. Your house, your car, your bank accounts, everything," she replied, nipples throbbing underneath her top. I was too shocked to form a reply, so she used the silence to continue.

"But don't worry, I didn't take any naked pictures of you. I wanted to save my prize for when I had earned it," Tori stated. "That moment when you willingly unzip your pants and scoop out that fat, rock-hard married dick for me... that moment is too delicious to waste." She paused, her finger grazing over her protruding nipple, clearly enjoying these thoughts. I didn't know what to say, and my eyes slid back to the pictures of my wife.

"So, in my computer, I labeled these pictures 'The Disaster Zone', for obvious reasons," she began. "I mean, just look at this." In the pictures, it seemed like my wife was getting ready for the day in the bathroom. She wore a plain, gray cotton bra and panties, nothing too fancy, but certainly economical and practical. She would wear this to work, but it wasn't like this would be the type of thing she would wear for me in the bedroom. She did have some slightly fancier stuff. Nothing like those ridiculous thongs that Tori seemed to prefer, but stuff that was, you know... nice.

"This stuff is just disgusting!" Tori stated. "I mean, she is wearing unflattering underwear on a really unimpressive body. She is literally curveless! Her butt is flat and dull and gross, and, just look, her panties are just big and bulky and baggy, hanging off her nasty ass." The picture certainly wasn't flattering to my wife. I could immediately tell that where the camera was hidden, in a plant on top of the cupboard. It was pointed at my wife as she looked in the mirror. She was brushing her teeth, standing in front of the mirror as she got cleaned up. The material of the cotton panties sagged a bit around her butt, not hugging her body. Some would call these 'granny panties', but I wasn't the type of guy to be bothered by this type of thing. "And then, look at her bra! Ugh!" Tori spat out. I looked at the other picture, of Andrea facing the camera, putting her bra-covered chest on display.

My wife wasn't overly busty or anything like that. Her breasts were petite, but again, I wasn't the type of guy to be bothered by this type of thing. The bra covered most of her breasts, containing her small breasts. The gray garment was practical, not built to impress.

"Your wife has itty bitty titties and they STILL sag!" Tori remarked. My wife wasn't completely flat, I mean, she certainly had boobs, but they weren't exactly perky and fleshy. They weren't bad. They were enough for me. But to Tori, anything less than perky, fat, fleshy EE's were a disappointment. "Your wife has these sad little mosquito bites. I mean, it's as if her body didn't even try. And she does herself no favors with that cheap bra."

"She's a kindergarten teacher! Why would she dress up?" I asked, angry.

"No excuse." Tori affirmed. "I was wearing a g-string at my niece's baptism, and I ended up making out with the fucking priest." I shook my head at how off-hand she made this boast. "Some women are willing to go the extra-mile at every minute of the day, and some women, like Andrea, only try when they have to. A girl always has to be ready, cause when those moments come, you have to be ready. That is the kind of devotion you can expect from me. The only time a thong won't be nestled between my butt-cheeks is when you rip it off of me." She paused for a moment, letting that sink in. "Now, let me show you something that I think you need to see." Tori said, pausing, smirking slightly before clicking the presentation forward.

The pictures on the screen were replaced by ones of Tori, in the same bathroom, wearing the same underwear.

The picture on the right showed off Tori in my wife's bra, standing in front of my wife's mirror, making a kissy face as she took a selfie. But, where it covered most of Andrea's breasts, it struggled to contain Tori's prodigious jugs. They jutted out, straining the material, the flesh overflowing the material. This was a garment meant to be practical, but Tori somehow made it look indecent.

The other picture was a picture of Tori's butt. And, where the cotton material hung off my wife's butt, the material clung to Tori's round, jutting ass. The firm cheeks were seemingly bursting to escape the undergarment, parts of the bottom of them bared in the picture, as the material was seemingly sucked between them. This garment covered Andrea's butt and nothing more, but it showcased Tori's rear end.

"What the..." I began.

"I know. I couldn't help myself." Tori said. "It was tough to force those disgusting things onto my body, but I had to prove the point. Even in plain, ugly, cheap clothes, I still look awesome. I can look sexy without even trying. Your wife can barely pass as sexy when she is trying. But, although I look good, even in your wife's cheap underwear, my body is not really being showcased. Now, let me show you a picture of a woman who puts in the effort. Let me show you works every day to look good. A woman who can work a full-time job and still look sexy." She advanced the presentation, and the two pictures were replaced with one.

My breath caught in my throat.

I was now staring at a picture Tori's thong-clad ass.

It was framed perfectly in the center of the picture, clearly taken in my wife's bathroom. It was evident that she took her time with this image, making sure her butt was being shown off perfectly. And it was. The cheeks were firm and round, standing out clearly from her slim body. Each of them were just perfectly shaped, round and smooth and firm. Her skin was evenly tanned, the smooth, silky flesh of her ass making it look even better. The creases between her ass and her legs were almost artfully smooth. The way her butt emerged from her lean, tight back really highlighted its lusciousness. And the way the two cheeks curved inward where they pressed together, forming the cleft of her ass-crack, was just visually striking.

Her firm ass-cheeks were round and full enough to engulf the string of her miniscule thong in her deep ass-crack, the tiny material disappearing between the fleshy mounds. The thin black, lacy thong showcased her mouthwatering rear-end perfectly, framing it, showcasing its shape. The thin material dug in slightly into her smooth flesh lightly, the small straps of the tiny thong drawn tightly against her body. The straps hugged the upper edge of her butt cheeks, meeting at the triangle of material at the cleft of her ass-crack. And above the thong was her tramp stamp, a tattoo of some green, thorny vines, roses bursting out from it. The tattoo not out of place on the image she was presenting.

"Look at that ass," Tori gasped quietly from my right, startling me as she stood over the side of the table, closer than I thought she was. "It's amazing, isn't it? That, right there, is a corporate ass. That's the kind of ass that's built for the boardroom. That butt is meant to be in business skirts. All good businesses have a butt like that stashed away somewhere."

My vision was arrested. It was an amazing ass, I couldn't deny that. And judging by her posture and the way I had seen the firm cheeks bounce and jiggle, she knew exactly how to use it to her advantage. She knew how to make a man crawl behind her, looking for a glimpse. I am positive she had used it to her advantage in the office, distracting some hard working man as he tried to do his job, making it a point to strut by his cubicle, stealing his attention, his gaze. He would try to look away and focus on his work, or his wife back home, but he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about those round cheeks, watching them jiggle. The sight would be so sexy he would be drooling. He would become obsessed with that ass, not being able to think about anything else until he just had to see it. And when he came crawling, he would offer up anything to see it. And when he did, and he experienced everything that butt could do first-hand, he would be broken forever. He would not be the same man again. He would be corrupted, both professionally and personally. And in this fantasy, I couldn't help but think that this man... was me.