A Public Presentation

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Exposure in the windows of the conference room.
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It had been a long day at the office but I would have to be there a bit longer. I finish in the toilet and grab my toothbrush to return to my desk. Brushing your teeth at the office might seem odd, but since I regularly eat my dinner at the office, I keep a toothbrush at my desk. Eating at the office allows me to keep a moderate form of intermittent fasting with 14 hours of zero calories between dinner and breakfast. I am ok with that as I tend to work out in the early morning and have breakfast before heading into work. Staying late at the office allows me to avoid the unmoving rush hour traffic.

My desk is on the 5th floor but I need to go to the general conference room on the 6th floor. The 7th floor boasts a larger conference room but that was for big events. I am to give a brief on new export options to be tested for Western markets, along with new adjustments to overseas distribution partners. The thing is they had installed a new audio video system in the conference room and I want to make sure my laptop would connect with the projector. The bosses are business people who do not have time for technical difficulties.

With the office now empty, as far as I could tell, I had the conference room all to myself. Having given dozens of briefs before, this is familiar stuff. Just make sure the connection to the new projector works, and flip through the slides the same as I will tomorrow. Laptop in hand, I head up the stairwell to the next floor. The top company bosses have offices on the 7th floor. Though my direct supervisor, Anna, has her office here on the 6th. She is the daughter of the CEO and leading share holder. Her grandfather founded the parent company. Do not be fooled into thinking she is daddy's little girl who gets a management position while hardly knowing what to do. This is a family that has been in the industry for generations and they mean business. Children are expected to do their part for the family business.

Anna and her father do not always agree on things. He wishes she would focus more on the traditional methods of how things have been done. Fortunately, he is wise enough to see her potential with new ideas, and has put her in charge of developing new products for foreign markets. She works us like a product sales testing factory. It comes with failure upon failure, but successes hit big. From what I hear her work has come at a cost, her marriage is only real on paper, and who knows for how long, as her husband has a gik, a girlfriend he spends all of his time with. As the family works out how to cut the sleaze ball husband out without costing them any money, Anna has to put up with officially still being married.

But that is all office gossip and has little to do with my presentation. Though she has started acting more provocative lately. Once when I was working out in the gym on the 2nd floor of our office building, (usually I work out at a gym near my apartment) and Anna was there too, running on the treadmill watching the news. She had her dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail so it could bounce behind her. I was doing a bunch of low weight high rep bench presses. I looked up and there she was looking down with a sultry air. A healthy view in her green sports bra and skin tight yoga pants, sweat pouring down. I was at the top of a rep holding the bar up.

"Nice muscles," she whispered before lazily tracing her fingers down my pecks and over my abs. She sniffed her finger tips, gave a coy smile, and causally strutted out leaving me to stare at her round butt and tight legs. That was two weeks ago.

Then another time, we had a group meeting to brainstorm ideas and as she was standing over a coworker looking at some numbers on their tablet, her cleavage pressed together under her low V-neck shirt was clearly visible to me seated across the table. While staring at what I could see of her smooth breasts, she looked up and realized what I was focused on. No one else had noticed as everyone was focused on the numbers.

Instead of correcting me, she commented to the small group about the importance of a certain figure pointing it out on the tablet. With everyone thoroughly focused on their screens her hand could pull at her already low neckline as if she needed to let the heat out. It opened her shirt up so much I thought those melons might just pop out, and she let them just hang there for me. Her eyes kept switching between the work on the table and me staring at her hanging breasts, all with a look of how she wanted me to be focused on her plush chest. Eventually she winked at me before straightening up. That was a week ago.

Continuing past Anna's office onto the conference room, I hurry to finish up my day so I can get home. Home being just a small apartment empty of anyone other than myself. The conference room has a large table surrounded by chairs in the middle and a water cooler, mini fridge, and small table against the back wall. Two of the room's walls are full length windows showing bustling streets below, as good a view of the city as a 6th floor gets. I set my laptop on the small table to see if my computer brings up the conference room projector in the wireless connections. I can see the projector connected but switching to duplicate display mode lags behind a bit.

Focused on the laptop I am startled when a voice calls out.

"Staying late again, are you?"

I spin around to see Anna sitting at the far end of the conference table, papers, tablet, work, etc. all scattered in front of her. Her brown hair tied back with a couple locks left free to accent the sides of her cute face.

"Oh my god! You scared me."

In my hurry to finish up I had not looked to see if anyone else was in the room. Not that it matters much, she obviously just needed extra space to do her work.

"What are you still doing here? It's almost 6:00," I ask, in an attempt to recover.

"It seems that I asked you first," she replies, sitting as if she owns the room and everything in it.

"Wanted to make sure my laptop connects with the new projector before tomorrow's meeting; besides I hate traffic." My answer satisfies her. I nod that it is her turn to answer.

"This product we have been exporting for almost a year is not breaking even. Kun Pa (her father) did not like the product to begin with. When we show this tomorrow, I am not sure how to convince him to let it finish out the year." She slumps a bit, looking stressed, less like the master of the room.

"You know sometimes the people most involved with something are too close to see when it is past saving." We pause in our thoughts for a few minutes. She picks up a glass on the table and takes a drink from what appears to be a whiskey glass.

"Well, I had better check the projector and get out of your way," I mumble.

She looks at me then back to her glass, and her eyes light up.

"You want a drink," she offers in a hopeful manner.

"Not sure if I am supposed to be drinking with the boss," I say not quite refusing but not quite accepting either.

"The work day is over with. We can relax a bit," she points out. "Besides, traffic is still heavy......and I could use the company."

"If you say so, boss," I tease her. She rolls her eyes at me while rising to walk across the room carrying her glass with her. Today she has worn a dark gray dress that opens on the right side of her stomach. Thank God, she has the abs that make an open midriff enchanting. The fabric gives only a slight peak at her toned body below. The neckline is round and high, not giving a view of her cleavage today. The silk-like material is tight enough to accent her womanly curves. The hemline comes midthigh, not quite unbusinesslike, but definitely pushing the limit.

I just wear dress slacks and a button up shirt. The commute is just too hot for a sports coat.

"Hope you do not mind plastic," she says, snatching a cup from the water cooler. Her whiskey glass must have come from her office, along with the whiskey bottle. She bends at the waist opening the mini fridge to pull out ice and such. Bent over her dress pulls tight against her round ass. The mid-thigh skirt does not give any hint of what is underneath but the view of her tight muscled legs is clear. She glances over her shoulder pleased to see me looking.

"Soda water? Coke?"

"Yeah," I say, letting her put whatever in my drink. She is making a drink of the same order as the old men who play checkers in front of my apartment building. Mixing both my drink and her refill all with a double portion of whiskey, she swirls the cups to stir the drinks. When stuck at the office, one has to improvise.

She starts to hand the cup over to me but pulls it back when I reach for it.

"Last week you were staring at my breasts. Now you are looking me in the eye. Why the change?" She holds the plastic cup as a prize for my answer. What happens if I give the wrong answer?

"Your shirt was open and I couldn't help myself. They look like beautiful breasts," I explain. "I am sorry for looking where I probably should not have. As for today, the neckline on your dress covers up everything. So, there is nothing to distract me from looking at your face." I could have said 'beautiful face' and although true, it would sound arrogant. She does have a cute face; round with puffy cheeks, brown skin, brown eyes, and a bit of a broad nose. Someone might have to look twice just to recognize she is Asian.

"So, if my shirt were open right now you would be looking at my breasts instead of my eyes?" she asks, pulling the prized drink a little further away. By the look in her eye, it is hard to tell which way to answer.

"I do not know," I answer, trying to play it safe. "I would probably look a little. You have a nice body; it is hard not to look at it." I try to make a reasonable position for my voyeurism. She squints her eyes unconvinced before reluctantly handing me the drink.

"I am your boss you know," she reminds me. "I can have you fired." She walks back over to her far end of the table where she looks at me with an evil smile, slowly running her tongue over her top lip. We both sip our drinks.

Carefully I move to pull out a chair just one position away from her, still giving her space but not exactly backing away. She looks over her work again.

"You are probably right," she comments. Right about what? "I probably am too close to see if this product is failing." She looks back up at me. "You know why we hired you over the applicants for your position?" Before I can speak up about my cunning intellect, she tells me, "Because you are that white guy who opens his mouth and says things that others are thinking but are too respectful to say out loud." Not the ego builder I was expecting. "Every so often we need someone to tell us the not so good news so we can avoid complete failure. Group-think can be dangerous." Her comment about me opening my mouth has me sitting silently as we drink.

"I probably should just put all this away and face my father tomorrow. What ever will be will be." She gathers her stuff up.

"Yeah, wrap it up and get home," I say mindlessly.

"What home?" she reminds me that her home life has not been that great lately.

"Well then we can both hang out here and share drinks for a while," I offer the next option that comes to mind.

"And do what? Have you stare at my chest?" She smugly replies.

"If you want me to, I can," my offers continue. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Why should I show myself off? What keeps you from taking your shirt off so I can look at you?" she turns the tables on me. After a moment we both nod at her point. I set my cup down, undo the top couple buttons, and pull both my shirts off. Her mouth is open with surprise. I flex my muscles for her to enjoy and pick my cup back up making sure to sit with straight posture. My body may not be that of a bodybuilder, but my workouts give me washboard abs, solid pecs, and toned arms. She takes it in for a moment, smiling, pleased with herself.

"You like what you see?" I ask.

"You're ok," she smirks. "But it is easy for a guy to go topless. Not like you are exposed." She says it like a challenge.

"Are you sure you want to see all of me?"

"I am not sure I do, but I want to point out, you taking your shirt off and me taking my shirt off is not the same thing." She drains the last of her glass. "Before you do, take your pants off, I am going to need another drink. Want more?" Anna stands up.

"Sure," I stand up, too. "Especially if I am taking my pants off."

She refills both of our drinks, her sophisticated glass and my basic plastic cup. As she hands me my cup she adds, "Here is your drink, now how about those pants?" I raise my eyebrows asking if she is serious. She raises hers right back at me and nods her head 'yes' with that same look of owning the room.

I take a long drag from my cup before setting it on the table. I slowly unbuckle my belt while rotating my hips around for show. She bites her lower lip smiling, then covers her mouth so she can giggle. I kick my shoes off and wink at her, making her laugh. Carefully I let my pants fall slowly all in time to my slow hip rotation. As I step out of my pants, I stare at her face with squinting eyes causing her to laugh harder. Slowly I dance around so she can view all angles of my boxer briefs.

I nod as though I have finished and am pleased with my workmanship. She waves her hands at my boxer briefs as if questioning what they were. I slump my shoulders as though I have been caught. Then carefully slide my underwear down my legs. Continuing to sashay around, I slow dance over to her and drape my boxers on her shoulder as her trophy. I come to a stop about two meters away facing her. My dick, hardened by the turn of events, hangs toward her not yet fully erect though enlarged.

"So, what do you think?" I ask. She turns her eyes away from me to pull the underwear off her shoulder. Holding them close to her nose she inhales deeply. Without giving any indication of what she smelled, Anna looks me up and down like her next business decision.

"Not bad," she smirks. "Nice butt by the way." Taking a big sip from her drink as she moves back toward her seat. She pauses as she passes me to drop my boxers on the table. Then stepping close she reaches over, running her hand down my abs to my groin, where she clutches onto my penis just feeling it in her hand. It swells fully in her grasp. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, looking as if she is pleasured just by gripping it. Still holding it firmly she takes another confident sip from her drink. "I like it," she says and releases me as she turns to sit down.

"I have an idea," she says with a wolfish grin. "How about you do your little hip dance in front of the windows there?" She indicates the large full-size windows overlooking the streets below. From where I am behind the table hardly anyone outside of the conference room can see my tight ass and then only if they look in the right direction. If I stand near the large windows everyone who looks up might see my swinging dick.

"Oh god! How many people do you think are going to report me?" I'm starting to worry about my exhibition.

"I do not think anyone will even notice. I dare you to step over there. Let's see if anyone sees that big sausage." The way I shiver nervously pleases her.

"You want me to flash the world from our conference room?" I challenge her. "What kind of person are you?"

"Here I thought you were handsome and brave," she challenges back. "Show me you got guts......and show the world that big piece you have." She leaned back in her chair comfortable with her position of authority to present me to the public.

"Since when am I your piece of man meat to command?" I question her authority, hand on my hip presenting my body toward her all the more. "You do not own me." Almost as if she had mentally commanded me to rub myself, my hand rubs over my torso coming to rest on my nipple giving it a pinch. She licks her lips smiling as she instinctively squirms in her chair.

"You have been my man meat since you paraded your half naked body in front me at the gym," she answers. Her eyes look up remembering a pleasant memory. But she was the one who came over and touched me at the bench press. "You strutted right over to where I was running, bare chest, all sweaty, and sprayed yourself with water from your water bottle like a porn star."

Sometimes I hold my water bottle so it does not touch my lips when I drink, and sometimes the water squirts sideways and sprays on my face instead of into my mouth. Maybe that is what she enjoyed seeing.

"Then you turned and stared at my body like you were going to tackle me off the treadmill." she continues.

"I did?" She remembers a lot more than I do. "Maybe I was thinking about my next set."

"Your next set of what? Hip thrusts? You clearly looked at my ass. Now we have clarified that you are my man meat, I dare you to show that meat to the world." She gestured to the windows.

"You're going to owe me for this," I quip, quickly taking a big gulp of liquid courage.

"We will see. Besides, you may not like the payment I give." She makes it sound painful or something. It feels weird to stand tall while walking around with your cock swinging back and forth. If it was drooping more maybe it would not swing so much, but my nerves were charging it to remain erect.

Starting at the window closest to the water cooler and furthest from Anna, I started my awkward dance to imaginary music. Transitioning between slow body gyrations, side shuffle, and the moon walk. Anna, not focused on my dance moves, looks to see if anyone notices. I come to a halt with my back to her, looking over my shoulder as I stick my butt in her face. She looks up at my eyes, pulls back her hand, and spanks my ass hard enough to straighten me back up again. It hurts so good.

"Looks like no one noticed your sexy body," she points out. "That is their loss."

"Now, it is your turn to expose yourself," I say, as if we had agreed upon a quid pro quo show of nudity. "Let's get a full view of your breasts, not just the cleavage." She smiled and shook her head 'no'.

"I never said anything about exposing myself." She stands up in command of our situation putting her hands on her hips. "But as a reward for a job well done, you can feel them if you like." She pushes her right hip out with her chest indicating that my hand might slip up the midriff opening in her dress.

"I can't say 'no' to that." Since the opening in her dress only exposes the right side of her stomach, I can only slide my left hand in. She shivers a bit gasping in as my hand moves up feeling her C cup sized breast hiding inside of a padded bra. "They're hidden in a bra," I declare with disappointment.

"Well, take it off, stupid. The hooks are in the back." My left hand reaches to her back and I start to struggle with the hooks. "Need two hands?" She offers. She reaches behind her neck and unfastens her dress. Now my right hand can slip in the back of her dress to assist the left hand with the troublesome bra hooks. With the bra loosened, my left hand returns to her chest where I can squeeze the entire breast in my large hand. Her breathing increases as I rub it gently then find the nipple and tweak it between my fingers. My hand then moves to do the same to the left breast as well. My right hand supports her back while the left manipulates her tits. Moving back to the right breast, my right hand slides to her chest teasing her left breast through the silky fabric of her dress.

Thoroughly aroused, she edges us toward the table edge for her to lean against. Her hand fumbles around for something and comes up with her glass. Taking a big sip, she pulls me close into a kiss, moving into the kiss I realize just how much shorter she is than me. She must be about 5' 4". As our mouths lock, her drink moves from her mouth to mine. By the taste I wonder if it is all whiskey. Her tongue pushes in searching my mouth. I wonder if that feeling tongue is opening up my feelings to her. As we continue to kiss, we taste more of each other and less of the whiskey. Her mouth feels like honey for my soul.

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