…nor is it necessarily sexy, but just whatever. I have a coworker with two things relevant to this: an undiagnosed hiccuping problem, and just the most amazing breasts. To put it in reddit terms, fortyfivefiftyfive retrousse breasts which are so wonderful that my job consists of two things: starting at her chest, and looking busy while I’m actually just positioning myself to stare at her chest.
(She’s great; like, a phenomenally competent person who knows how to do everything, super funny, and although she’s not the boss, we all [often the actual boss as well] default to her de facto leadership. We all love her. And good god, can this woman wear a tight shirt. And her behind? She somehow makes Dickies sexy.)
I’m sure I’m not her only colleague sneaking glances. She was recently showing me how to take on a new task, but I did not learn a thing because that day she happened to be wearing a low-cut shirt and no bra. I tried my best.
ANYWAY, at some point in her life as a chronic hiccup sufferer (which I know is no joke, nor a laughing matter), someone instilled in her that the best way to clear up a bout of hiccups was to stretch her arms up and thrust her chest out (to put it in reddit terms, armsuptitsout). And I just want to thank that man, because I’m sure it was a man, for all the buoyant, bouncy joy it’s brought me. It doesn’t seem to be doing her any good, but it has led to me never calling out sick.
I’ll hit the snooze button a couple times to buy myself a few more minutes of imagining running my hands along her thighs and ass and belly, getting on my knees to kiss her legs and run my hands up her chest, then finally jump out of bed to get to work on time so I can pretend to work while I come up with new ways to look at her body.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/mpvmiv/hiccups_wonderful_breasts_this_is_not_really_a
If any emmeffer sets out to downvote this, let me first remind you that we’re talking about breasts that ought to be committed to marble, committed to oil on canvas, committed to charcoal on toothy paper. And I get to see them daily behind a layer or two of cotton. Bouncing from the diaphragm, deeply. God, I love my job so much.
Hopefully she doesn’t feel compelled to complain to her family and friends, “I’m the only employee in the entire company that does any work whatsoever!! All anybody else does all day is stare at my boobs! Even the boss!!!” But rather, lies in bed at night masturbating over the way her coworkers’ eyes follow her every move, mouths water with lustful drool and crotches bulge whenever she chooses to mercilessly tease them.
“Especially that guy I recently tried to train that went brain dead when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. That was so hot!”, she may be thinking. I’ll bet she plays a little game in which she must orgasm, and can only cum once for each time she teased one of you enough so that you had to slip into the bathroom to jerk off. See, she’s watching you all too.
In that case, her snooze alarm intervals must be when she flicks her clit and squeezes her nipples again, planning out her day and carefully choosing the best outfit for manipulating her coworkers’ cocks. “Mmmm, I’m going to wear that short skirt with no panties so when I sit across from Mr. Bloodcanonlyflowtooneheadatatime, he’ll have to keep finding excuses to bend down to try to catch a glimpse of my moist kitty. That’s right, slave, drop to your knees and worship your mistress!”
I don’t know. Maybe you’re actually the one being objectified. Still fun to think about though, huh?