GITJ Post 302: A Monday After, p4

“You really think it’s a problem, hm handsome?” Melissa asked from behind her expansive desk, her smile full of mischief, “You're really that threatened by the girls, huh?”

I’d just brought Stephanie’s Instagram post to her, showed it to her on my phone. She’d promptly proceeded to laugh, then to show me several others from this morning that also called me out and seemed more than a little disrespectful - posts from Lakshmi, Katie, Aubrey and others. Maybe it was all in fun like Melissa was insisting, but they were speaking of me like some little, big-breast-obsessed simp and I had to admit it was getting under my skin. It seemed like it had gone beyond playful teasing to something more like taunting the lone, unfortunate Y-chromosome in the room. Plus, I was these people’s employer! Or, well…at least their, like, boss. “Th-threatened?” I replied. “I, uh, don’t know if that’s the righ-…”

My words died on my lips as Melissa casually took a deep breath. Aside from trying to avoid sounding petty and fragile already on this early Monday afternoon, I was also trying to steer clear of the eye-trap that was my girlfr-…uhhh…my Office Manager’s magnificent cleavage, which was on dramatic display today in a plunging pink top, sleeveless. She’d spent the morning at some sort of photoshoot for the new construction and her makeup was done up ravishing and professionally. She didn’t say much about it to me as it was all a little hush-hush and there was something she wanted to keep as a surprise. But something about the morning had left her energized, and now that we were together she would not take her eyes off me.

She likewise watched me fight to keep my eyes off of her, specifically her chest, and wore another one of her big, mischievous smiles. She knew exactly what she was doing, keeping me off-guard and docile and focused on the distraction of her ungodly figure rather than my worries. It worked, it always did, and I secretly loved it.

“Jay, sweetie, I don’t really think it’s the problem you think it is. Why not let it be out in the open, the nice friendships and relationships you’re building with your team?” she explained, watching as my brows furrowed and I considered the thought, “I know they all love it, getting comfortable around you, the…” With a twinkle in her eye and a little jiggle of her shoulders, her voice changed, and she cooed like a babydoll starlet, “…the biiiig boss man.” 

Okay, yes. She was definitely playing to my beleaguered ego, and again it was working. Besides just trying to mollify me, Melissa was flirting with me, in the middle of a work day, hard. And she was really good at it. But should I really be allowing my staff to talk to me the way they were in some of these posts? ‘Small’ and ‘meager’ were terms being thrown at me; I was being called ‘a weakling’ and ‘baby J’ for god’s sake!

“C’mON Melissa,” I implored, hearing my voice crack into a little whine. I was beginning to sound not very convinced of my own concerns. It was a bit infuriating, seeing how little weight Melissa was putting on my complaints, but she had a way of placating me…well, two big ways. It was only for an instant, but I’d slipped and allowed my eyes to drop between her breasts. I looked back up at her proudly smiling face with chagrin.

At that, she reached towards me across her desk and pushed the drink she’d poured for me a couple minutes ago closer, “Here, drink your milk…”

Without a thought I picked up the chilled glass, raised it to my lips and took a sip. Creamy, sweet, yes. She’d been buying me whole milk, and had totally now weaned me off coffee. She watched as I drank, still smiling, and saw me wince.

She just took this out of the fridge, huh? Weird but it’s too…it’s too…

“Is it too cold?” she asked, reading my face with calm.

“It is, uh, a l-little chilly…” I admitted, feeling it on my back teeth.

With that, she held out her hand. “Here, let me have it,” she said, and eased the glass from my hand, “I’ll warm it up for you.”

Then, with smooth aplomb, she took the glass to her lips and filled her mouth with the milk, nearly the entire thing at once. She sat there, cheeks slightly bulged, and met my eyes with her own. She was not swallowing, but rather holding the glassful of milk in her mouth. Her gaze was on me the whole time and she sat, watching me watch her - good lord - warm up the milk in her mouth. Her eyes sparkled, and she fought back a smile.

After a few moments she raised the glass again to her lips and I watched as, again with adroit confidence, she pushed the milk all back into it. Without a word, she placed it on the desk and slid it back towards me. 

“There you go,” she finally said with both preternatural poise and the unspoken directive ‘drink up, baby,’ plain as day.

Without a thought I swallowed a decent swig, actually thanked her, and took another. I could taste her coffee in the milk; she must have had some earlier. It was warm, also now, drinkable to my palate, sweet. I smiled wanly at her, seeing the pride in her face, the amusement. I didn’t know what else to say. She still just watched me, and obviously expected me to have some more.

I took another draught, and sat back. Ooo, ugh…what’s that? I’m sure my face registered it and I made an uncomfortable noise because Melissa cocked her head at me: suddenly my stomach had turned. My brows furrowed in concern - was milk was starting to upset my stomach too, like lots of other foods had begun to do? I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and tried to settle things.

After a moment I opened my eyes to see Melissa had stood, and had began to walk around the desk to me. Reflexively I stood up too, nearly stumbling, and as she approached I fought once again to keep my gaze off her big chest, which was now approaching at eye-level.

“Do you need me to burp you?” she giggled, still advancing on me. I stepped back, and as she didn’t seem to be stopping in her aggressive assault on my personal space, I stepped back more. She giggled again, now brazenly pressing her chest forward and pushing me around with her chest, causing me to retreat again and again. “I could put you over my shoulder, sweetie, help you burp that up,” she beamed, “if your tummy’s upset…”

She was joking, right? “Haha n-no,” I laughed uncomfortably, now outright goggling at the two massive boobs with which she’d bullied me back ten paces, now up against a wall.

All I saw, now, was tits. She’d stopped short of plastering them into my face, and just gazed down at me with undisguised amusement. She put one hand up against the wall, aside my head, and watched my battle in wresting my gaze from her tits and rather crane my neck up to look at her. With me at just over five feet tall, and her at six-and-a-half-feet-plus, the struggle was real.

I swallowed, dryly, and realized she had me cornered. She had more than just human resources and staff management on her mind, that was for sure. I glanced to my left, making sure the door to her office was closed, and looked back up at her. I waited for her to speak.

“Back to what we were talking about before,” she finally began, fingers of her free hand playing idly with my collar, “I think it’s sexy - all my girls, getting bigger and stronger…getting more confident, getting ready.”

My heart had started to race, and with the new waves of perfume that were now pouring from her chest my body had begun to respond. But, a little confused, I furrowed my brows again. “G-getting ready for what?” I asked, and then gasped as I felt her move her right knee up, in between my legs, up into my groin. My crotch was swollen for her already, and I saw her smile curl as she realized it.

“Oh, sweetie, we’ll see,” she purred, as slowly she pushed her knee further forward, under me, and began to raise her leg. I gasped again as I felt my feet begin to leave the ground and my back slide up against the wall. Slowly she raised me, with seemingly no effort at all, until she and I were eye-to-eye. She smiled deep into me, and looking down I saw myself perched with my legs dangling over her right thigh, my weight fully supported by her powerful leg. I wobbled, and felt her hands shift down to my hips to support me in that position. Likewise, I placed my hands on her shoulders.

“Remember, baby, the elections are tomorrow,”  she said, cryptically, “Now c’mon…let’s kiss…”

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Thank you to GBHMax for the original morph in the first image.