Office Whore

"They were very interested in meeting me," Olivia said, beaming bright.

"We are very lucky to have you," he said, admiring the curves of her as she sat back onto the stool.

"Now, let's go over my calendar."

When his back reminded him of his age, he let go of her shoulders and let her work in peace.

He worked for a while, going through the documents he had prepared for today, looking at office upgrades, the acquisition of new products and how best to take the company, but he couldn't take his eyes off her body.

For him to even be near such a young, vibrant, goddess-like beauty should be a crime in itself. She had yet to react to his stench, to his hideous looks and the vile remarks that he wanted to make about every inch of her spectacular body had so far remain stuck on his tongue. But for how long could he keep up the performance? He was at the boiling point already from just being near her.

In profile, he sat and awed at her pretty face, the sunlight shining on its glistening, deeply tanned skin. The makeup was perfectly subtle enough to go unnoticed in some places, but clearly evident where it mattered. Her eyes were highlighted with dark shades, her cheekbones so adorably cute and genetically designed to shift his attention to her sexy big lips. They were so full, glossy and pink. The perfect lips he liked to show his dick between.

"George, can you help me make sense of this document?" she asked, waking him up from the transfixed state.

"Come here and show me," he said and she rose from the stool, slightly bent over and her ass rising first. That's how she got up and looked so slutty that he imagined a stripper pole right beside her.

Olivia walked around his desk, placed the laptop in front of him and sat her big behind in his lap.

George didn't question it, he was just surprised, and frozen, for a moment, before he seized the opportunity. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her ass so that his hardening cock pressed against her cheeks. Then he leaned over her and rolled the chair closer to the desk. "How can I help you, Olivia?"

"It's your calendar. It's so empty. I was expecting so much more to manage."

"And this is a problem?"

"Well, I was thinking we could fill in some group bonding moments on Mondays to get good vibes going through the week, for starters, but I dunno how I do it."

He brushed his stubbled cheekbones against the side of her face as he leaned forwards and helped her navigate the menus. All to have her ass remain where it was.

She plotted in her suggestions, and listened when he explained his meetings, the role he wanted her to play when attending them. Making notes of each meeting and they covered how to store them in files on her computer.

Then the mouse remained on an open slot on Friday and she twisted as she probably prepared to give him another suggestion.

"Maybe—"

"Maybe—"

They both smiled as their brains united in that moment, but George acted fast, wanting to test what more he could get away with. "Snap, you owe me a treat," he said quickly.

"What?" she asked, smiling wide.

"That's the snap rule, have you not heard of it?"

"No, I haven't."

"Oh, it's a lot of fun for the one who gets the treat. You'll have to be faster next time we say the same word at the same time," he said, smiling at her wickedly.

"Oh, okay. I'll do better next time. What treat do I have to give you?"

"Well, anything within reason, of course. I can't have you asking for promotions or increased salary," he joked.

"Right, I was definitely not thinking about that," she said between her giggles.

"This might be unprofessional of me, but you have such a big arse," he said, his intrusive thoughts taking him down a path he shouldn't go but couldn't stop himself from going.

"Uhm, thanks, I guess," she said, her cheeks flushing.

"Can you twerk? Just now, I mean?"

"How did you know I love doing that?" she asked. "Did you have someone do research on me?" she asked, concerned.

"No, I just thought—"

"It's actually okay, but only if you don't fire me," she joked.

"Of course not, Olivia, but you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I just—"

"I mean, it's my fault for sitting down in your lap," she said, shaking her head. "I can be a bit of a bimbo sometimes. I don't think things through."

"That's okay, I like you as you are," he said and slid his hands down to her thighs, his hands brushing over the warm skin, gripping onto the immense and firm muscles.

"Mmmm, I can tell," she said, biting her lips, and she wasn't lying. He was rock solid beneath her ass. "Maybe I can twerk a little then, but you can't tell anybody."

"Pinkie promise?" he asked, holding up her hand and she giggled when she accepted.

George sat back in disbelief as the hottest babe he had seen until now placed her hands on her knees, leant forwards until her heavy ass cheeks lifted from his hardon and then she moved her hips.

If he had questioned that random line in her application about being an adopted Brazilian, he didn't question it now. Right now, he saw the Brazilian in her come through. "Jesus," he said as she threw her hips around and as a result, her ass cheeks.

There was too much ass to contain and the mini-skirt rode up the round definition, showing him the stockings and the matching white lace thong beneath until the material popped up and lay around her waist.

The entirety of her round, perfectly tanned and fit ass cheeks was for show and they rippled and jiggled as she twerked her ass stupidly fast. This was a pro going at it, a proper thick ass that, on her wide hips, was the best thing he had seen. This was the best moment of his life, he didn't doubt it for a second. Her ass twerking just inches from his raging hardon drove him wild and he grabbed onto her hips, pulling the big cheeks into his lap.

"Oh, that's a bit naughty, George," she said, wickedly. Her hips still twerking as she moved her ass cheeks individually with a perfect mind-to-muscle connection. Making her big cheeks dance on his dick while his fingers greedily explored the glorious thickness.

"Oh, no, my skirt!" she realized how exposed she was because of his groping fingers, but before she could remove herself from him, he wrapped his arms diagonally over her torso, his forearms squashing her massive titties, and pulled her back against his torso.

"Holy hell, Olivia," he said, holding her down as he came in silence and with his heart hammering for the beauty. "That was, a bit too wild. Goodness you can move your hips."

"I'm so sorry, she apologized. I lost myself a bit, but you shouldn't have touched me."

"I know, I just couldn't help it," he said, panting in her ear and even under all the perfume he had applied and all the mint he had eaten, she still repelled from him, just a little.

She found him vile, fat and disgusting. She did an excellent job not showing it, but in that moment, she had revealed how she saw him. But she had still twerked her big ass in his lap. Why? That was the question. Why take the job where every colleague was a disgusting pig, using their money on whores and participating in dogging. Surely, she should have clocked that by now, and yet here this blonde, blue-eyed beauty was and she was ripe for the taking.

"Well, we're really taking this introduction far, today," she said, laughing. Still wiggling that big ass in his lap.

God what a teasing minx. Is that why she was here? To tease the living crap out of them and leave them frustrated? To toy with them and feel empowered? No, whatever it was he would find out, but she was too gullible and ditzy to play them. It was more the opposite.

George laughed, too and removed his arms, his palms sliding over her big tits as he slid them down and off her body. "That means we'll the best partners," he said, licking his lips as she forced and struggled to get the skirt over the firm roundness of her ass. "Let me help you, Olivia."

George grabbed the hemline and pulled, struggling too, until they finally got the tight skirt over her ass. "Jesus, you are too big for your own good," he said his intrusive thoughts, again.

Olivia just laughed. "I know, it gets me into so much trouble."

"This has made me hungry," he said, staring holes into her delicious ass.

"Not for my ass, I hope," she said and giggled.

Oh, he liked this bitch.

"Of course not," he lied and stood up to wrap his arm around her waist. He just couldn't keep his hands to himself around her. She was intoxicatingly beautiful. "How about we head to the restaurant across the street, just you and I? I'll pay for everything."

"Oh, yes. That would be lovely, thank you."

The cum in his boxers would have to remain there. He had no spares with him, and just walking behind her into the lift had him nearing a repeat as just the sight of her body got him solid.

"I like it when there's music," she said, swaying her hips to the lift's music.

"Dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand, knowing Latinas loved dancing, and Olivia happily accepted. He wrapped one hand around her lower back, the fingers brushing over her ass cheek and the other entwined with her fingers. He led her around in a saucy salsa where the only obstacle was his beer belly bumping into her, and when the lift hit the ground floor and opened the doors, she spun out of his arms and sauntered out while smiling over her shoulder.

George loved every moment with her, and she was so girly and feminine. She smiled bright when he led her into the restaurant and even brighter when he pulled back the chair for her.

He tried not to eat like a pig in front of her, but his habits were difficult to control. Luckily for him, she was spilling and making just as much of a mess. George rose from his chair, grabbed a napkin and helped remove the smeared ketchup around her lips.

"Thank you, and sorry for being a mess."

"It makes you human," he said and he didn't mind the onlookers eyeing him chatting with such a contrast to him, nor did he care when he moved behind her and massaged her neck.

Olivia loved it and that was all that mattered to him as he stared down into the low-cut crop-top. Her massive tits speaking to his intrusive thoughts, but he shook his head to remove them.

When George sat down again, the waiter arrived to get their finished plates. They ordered dessert when the next waiter arrived, and while they waited for their dessert, she leaned forwards and his eyes fell to the big tits resting on the table.

"I can't believe I twerked for you," she said, eyes wide.

"Me neither," he said bluntly. "But you were amazing at it."

"Really? I do it all the time when partying with my girlfriends, but it felt different with you... more intimate."

"Was it better?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Do you want to do it again?"

"It was fun, wasn't it? It's okay as long as it's fun, right?"

"I like that mantra," he said. "What do you want to ask?"

"Well, I bore easily and they spent so long getting our food. We might have time for another... uhm... twerk show before they bring us cake."

George fought against his intrusive thoughts. "We can't do it here, everyone can see us," he reminded her of the public around them, not believing his ears that this fine piece of ass eighteen-year-old wanted to shake her ass for him.

"Duh, I know," she said, giggling. "I was thinking of the restrooms."

"You're serious?"

She just smiled naughtily at him, biting her lip.

George couldn't believe that this was happening, again. "Lead the way."

George followed behind her, his eyes locked on her ass until she turned, grabbed his tie and pulled her into the restroom for those with special needs. She locked the door and pushed him down on the closed seat.

"This is quite the first day," he said and she placed her finger on his thin lips. The message was clear, he would have to enjoy the twerk show in silence.

The big ass slammed into his lap and the mini-skirt had little chance to keep her modest. The round cheeks popped free eventually as she moved her hips and his hands moved eagerly to grope it. "What an incredible ass," he said, astonished by the perfect muscle the ampleness of it and the suppleness.

"I didn't say you could touch it," she said, slapping away his hands.

George wanted to bend her at the waist and take her brutally hard. It took everything in him not act on his desires. His hands gripping the handle bars on each side of the toilet to deny himself the temptation.

"This is so naughty," she said, throwing back her long blonde hair and twerking her big ass. The round, supple muscles dancing for his eyes. She was born to do this. It was a talent and in the silent restroom, he heard the cheeks clapping.

"Fucking hell," he uttered in disbelief at what was happening and she loved this, grinding her big ass against his raging hardon and making the cheeks clap.

It was too big of an ass, and too thickly shaped to resist. He gritted his teeth and bit his tongue, all to try and resist the natural urge to—

SPANK!

"Oh, George," she squealed, but she just kept going, raising her arms up and twerking so fast his eyes rolled into the back of his head at the excess of ass.

SPANK!

"Oh," she squealed. "I'm not sure this is very professional of us."

SPANK!

"I'm just thanking you for being such a good girl," he said, groping her big behind.

SPANK!

"Ummm, I like being a good girl," she said, wickedly hot. "But I think our desserts should be ready now."

Olivia stood up and he had to help her pull down her skirt again, despite wanting to just rip her clothes straight off her.

"Perhaps we should make some alterations to your work uniform?" he asked, when they finally got her cheeks covered up.

"Oh, please, that would be great. I can barely move in these heels and the skirt is so tight."

"The heels are required outside of our office, but what do you say about wearing mini-dresses?"

"Oh, I have plenty of those," she said and stopped to fix her hair in the mirror.

"Don't," he said, grabbing her wrist. "It's just... perfect." He brushed through the silky soft waves and nearly leaned in to kiss her, but he stopped himself when he saw her nostrils reacting to his stench.

"But about the company's lace lingerie—"

"You don't like it?" he asked, seeing her pull down the skirt to hide the stocking straps.

"It's really mandatory for the female staff to wear them at work?" she asked, coyly.

"It's contractual that you do. For how else can we know we are selling a good brand if you can't wear it outside the bedroom?"

"Good point, I just thought there might be other women at work and not just me."

"There have been women working for us before, but none as young as you, and they tend not to last long... you saw the lads."

"I get the picture," she said and stepped out.

George took his time a bit, just looking at the hands that had smacked her rear. Then he left and followed her big ass with only one intention. He had to fuck her, and he believed there was a slut hiding behind all that cuteness. She just needed the right excuse and the slut would come out of her. What they had just done was beyond his wildest dreams and he believed he could find a way to get more. He needed more of that big fucking ass.

The cake was nice, but it wasn't the cake he wanted as he eyed Olivia hungrily while eating. She kept teasing him with how she ate the strawberries, her plump lips looking divine as she ate the strawberry, slowly and while looking him straight in the eyes.

When they were finished, he paid for the bill and escorted the beauty out.

Onlookers looking at her in disgust for entertaining him. Already making up their mind of her as pure filth.

Perhaps they were right?

The office was quiet when they returned, most having gone to the cafeteria serving the other floors, but he had no intention of showing off Olivia to the other firms.

They danced again in the lift. She felt so good in his arms, and this time he grabbed onto her arse while they danced slow and close. And she let him.

When she entered the office, she walked better in her heels and kept them on.

They worked on their separate tasks until he needed another coffee. Olivia was up for the task and this time he was too busy to check on her when she once again took her time.

Olivia hated the heels, she hated the outfit, the lingerie. She craved her comfortable and form-fitting gym clothes and her sneakers! Gosh, what she could give for her sneakers right now. Fuck, the guys were all looking out of their office windows to catch a glimpse of her ass in the mini-skirt that kept riding up her cheeks. Annoyed, she tugged it down and found the coffee machine devoid of any annoying, vile, and ugly old farts. Of all the jobs she had applied for, this was the one she got, and it sucked. Whatever it took to finance her studies, that was the motivation, but she didn't know if working here was worth it. She didn't bloody help matters either! She'd twerked, twice, in her boss' lap and worse, he had slapped her arse proper fucking hard while she did it the second time. And she had let him grope her behind while dancing with him.

Why did she look so good against his black skin in the lift's mirrors?

She shook her head at the situations she got her bimbo ass into.

Why was she so stupid when it mattered?

She prepared the machine, trying her best to remember the instructions Brick had given her, and speak of the devil, the missing teeth in otherwise rotten mouth still gave her the creeps. The only good about this place was George's surprisingly good massages, but if she felt one more hand on her hip she would—

"Struggling, love?" asked Brick, his hands wrapping around her stomach from behind as he pressed into her and his vile breath had the sick racing from her stomach. But she kept her cool and tried not to make a scene.

"Yes, another blonde moment," she said, hating how her shit memory and ditzy blonde nature invited moments like this where this vile pig took advantage and felt up her body.

"That's alright, love. I'll help you," he said taking her hand and controlling it through the menus and grinding against her ass. "So lovely," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm glad you were here," she said when the machine was ready.

"All you need now is a cup, but definitely smaller than what you're sporting." He laughed and panted in her ear.

She bit her lip and restrained herself from kicking off these heels and giving him a solid beating. If she was even capable of that. She had some killer kicks, but her upper body was just toned, not at all as developed as her lower body. "I can't reach the cup, can you help me?" she asked, realising that someone had stacked the cups higher now than the first time she went to use this machine. She sighed internally as she realized what sort of workplace this would be. Not that she wasn't used to sexual harassments, it came with the getup, unfortunately.

"Here you are, Olivia," he said, picking the coffee cup, but moments before giving it to her, he raised it high above her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked, spinning around to see the unbridled lust light up the acne-scarred face and the dry skin and patchy hair just added to his reeking nature.

"Come one, little thickety, jump," he said, grinning wide. "I want to see those big cheeks jiggle when you jump."

"I am not jumping," she said, crossing her arms and putting on her mean face.

"Damn, you're even hotter when you're pissed-off. Damn Latinas... my fucking weakness," he said and she watched, almost in slow-motion, as he moved his free hand slowly up her stomach. He made it to just beneath her tits before stopped him. "Brick, don't," she said softly, pushing his hand away.