"Hey, I do my research too," I said with a smile, moving towards her.
She certainly looked the part of an executive assistant. Despite the fact that she had to know she wasn't nearly as qualified as some of the other candidates, it was clear she was taking this interview seriously, which I was impressed with. She was dressed to the nines and made-up and styled, without overdoing it. I had to admit, despite everything that was said about her, I couldn't help but be struck by how stunning she truly was.
As I shook her hand, she smiled at me, showcasing her full, glossy lips. Her eyes met mine, and her striking eyes and dark eyeliner held my gaze for a moment too long. I pulled my hand from hers and guided her towards the chair across from me. Her outfit seemed perfectly fitted too her, a nice looking business suit.
The slim jacket was fitted well to her upper half, and her knee-length black skirt clung to her legs and rear. She had on black stockings and high-heels, all in black, professional, but attractive. She slid her leather portfolio down onto the heavy wood table, and as she did, I noticed the silky, white blouse under her jacket, a few buttons near the top undone, not to an indecent level, mind you, but enough to show off the glowing, smooth skin of her upper chest. And, she wore a small, dangling necklace, the bauble on the front nestled in the hint of smooth cleavage left exposed by the slightly unbuttoned blouse.
And although the blouse looked expensive and professional, it was clear from the color contrast that she was wearing a red, lace bra beneath the silky white top.
I didn't leer at her or anything like that, I just noted it, as I would with any other applicant. Because one of the big things about an interview is how the applicant presents themselves. It tells you a lot. And her look was telling me that while she was trying to come across as professional, she wasn't afraid to use her obvious appeal to her advantage.
As she moved to her chair, I watched her eyes scan the room, gaining a sense of where everything was. Her eyes hung on the couch along the far wall for a few moments before she took her seat, sitting down in one of the office chairs across from me, her perfectly styled brown hair shimmering on her shoulders as she did so. She unbuttoned her suit-jacket as she sat, sitting up straight, pushing out her chest ever so slightly.
She had large breasts and she knew it. Very, very large breasts, a size you don't often see in an office setting. Among the office's male population, her boobs were a common source of conversation, the uninitiated seeking out those who had seen them in the flesh, seeking out the juicy details.
I never participated in that kind of rumor mongering, and people knew that, as that kind of conversation tended to cease whenever I was around. But, I am a man and it wasn't like I hadn't noticed her impressive bust size. And they were great breasts, for sure, but I guess I just wasn't the type of guy to go gaga over a pair of boobs. I could appreciate them, but that wasn't gonna sway my feelings on her either way, no matter how much flesh she showed off. It was a little unprofessional to dress provocatively in the office, as she tended to do, but I wasn't about to tell anyone how they should present themselves. Not gonna start, not with her.