"You must be the stupidest girl I have ever met."
Alison stared mutely at Megan, hardly believing that the receptionist was talking to her like that. Whenever women sniped at each other on TV shows or movies, Alison always thought it seemed exaggerated. While she may not have had many close female friends, Alison was used to women treating her with a certain level of at least superficial friendliness, even if it often turned out to be a front.
Such blatant aggression couldn't be real, could it? Did women talk like that outside of high school drama shows or trashy reality TV? As Alison started to open her mouth to stutter out a response, Megan spoke again, this time in a near whisper.
"I see you watching Jack, staring at him with that stupid look on your face. You're lucky he's too busy to see how you are embarrassing yourself."
Megan's face, normally pretty, was quickly turning blotchy from the heat of her emotions as she hissed out the words to Alison. The receptionist was half standing out of her chair, leaning up the countertop, her eyes locked on Alison's eyes.
"He would never want you. Never. He likes real women, women who know what a man likes, not skinny, stupid bitches like you. "
Megan sat back down into the seat with a thump, her eyes finally leaving Allison and turning back to her computer and phones.
"I...I...wasn't..I..."
Alison trailed off as Megan turned her chair fully away from her, answering the phone in a chipper tone that was completely at odds with how she had just been speaking to Alison. Standing in front of the reception desk with disbelief, Alison stared at Megan, uncertain of what to do.
Megan was dressed in what Alison had learned was a standard outfit for when she wasn't in a good mood. The blotches on her face from her anger had spread partially down Megan's neck, underneath of which was a large expanse of cleavage. A push up bra served to make Megan's breasts look even larger than normal, and they never looked small. The short black skirt with the cleavage bearing shirt was quickly becoming the sign to Alison that today was a day to avoid the receptionist. This suspicion has been confirmed last week when she overheard the end of a snarky conversation between Megan and two young agents. Megan had torn a strip off the guys and as they walked past Alison, one of them had muttered something in a low tone to the other.
"I told you. More tits, more bitch."
Since then, Alison had been careful to stay out of Megan's way when she was dressed in that sort of outfit. Not that Megan was particularly nicer in other outfits. From Alison's first day at work, Megan seemed to have taken an instant dislike to her. The sarcasm and constant questioning of her intelligence had gotten very tired, but Alison was stunned at today's sudden turn of events. Megan had never spoken to her like that before and Alison couldn't believe how suddenly and viciously Megan had attacked her.
After another few seconds standing in front of reception with her mouth open, Alison turned and with small, quick steps, fled down the hallway. Following her disastrous first day outfit where she wore a too tight old top, Alison had been careful to not flaunt her figure at work. After that first Friday that she started at the brokerage, Alison had spent most of Saturday at the mall, trying to find clothes that she felt comfortable in, that seemed appropriate for work, and that she could afford. The outfits she had bought seemed both expensive and cheap to Allison. Expensive in that they cost more than what she would normally spend on clothes for a month, yet cheap in that they didn't seem well made or durable. The sales clerk had been adamant that this was the look for young women in the workplace and Alison had finally just given in and bought what she was told.
Her outfit today was one of three that she had now, which she managed to stretch into five variations by mixing them up a bit. The pants were form fitting and in what Alison thought of as the non-colours: black, grey and white. They had seemed not too bad at the store, but as she lifted boxes of binders, carried paper and in general did whatever she was told, they seemed to alternately be too tight or too loose across her ass. Bend over a bit and she knew that her panties were clearly outlined against the fabric. After noticing a number of agents watching her ass with great interest, Alison began wearing thong underwear, hoping to at least avoid making it obvious how tight the pants were when she bent over. Shortly thereafter, Alison discovered that the crouch she needed to do to get at the frequent photocopier jams meant that the too tight pants were suddenly too loose in the back, gaping out and showing off the top of her thong and ass crack to the world. Last week she swore that she saw a flash go off from the door of the copy room but when she looked around no one was there.
The tops varied in style and colour and Alison had been adamant that they not show off her tits much. With perfectly round, 34C tits that stood firm and high, Alison knew that she had boobs that inspired an uncomfortable level of admiration from boys and jealousy from girls. Since she had been a teenager, she had grown used to the glances from other girls and women in change rooms at the school or pool. Casual glances with no immediate reaction but always followed with their eyes resolutely avoiding their own breasts, unwilling to do a comparison. Time and again, Alison had seen small changes in behaviour from women once they had seen her topless. Friendly became distant, indifferent became mild bitchiness. The change was never overt, but Alison had learned that showing her tits off did her no favours with other women.
As a result, Alison had stayed strong in her resistance to some of the cleavage baring tops the saleswoman told her mixed sexy with professional. The tops she bought all had some sort of design feature, be it a frilly fringe or patterned fabric, that gave her some coverage and material between her tits and the world. The one thing in common with all the tops was that the midriff was a form fitting material that stretched tight against her flat stomach. The shirts had all appeared fine when standing straight in the store mirror facing herself, but with the activities she did all day, Alison constantly found the shirts riding up and exposing her stomach or back. At least that could be dealt with by tugging it down.
Without conscious thought, Alison ended up at the copy room, the place where she seemed to spend most of her time at work so far.
Her hands still trembling at the sheer vitriol of Megan's unexpected outburst, Alison assembled deal binders on auto pilot, a skill she had acquired over the last three weeks of working at the brokerage.
Alison had never worked a full time job in a professional office before coming here and wasn't sure how much of her work experience and interactions with her colleagues was typical. She was positive that being in the room while one co-worker blew another was not something that happened to most people at their job.
That first day had lingered in Alison's mind ever since and had linked the brokerage in her mind with a sort of dominant sexual activity that Alison found incredibly arousing. Upon arriving home that first night, Alison had masturbated until she was sore, coming again and again on her fingers, fucking herself with two fingers as she pictured Jack's cock, wet from Megan's mouth. His words, the way he spoke to Alison as he controlled Megan, the taste of his cum that he had managed to place on Alison's lips. Again and again, she came, moaning his name, shaking, tasting her cum from her fingers, running it along her lips, imagining she could still taste Jack's cum, now mingled with her own.
Since that first day, Alison had become hyper aware of Jack's presence in the office. Each male voice she heard in the distance was assessed and identified. If she was not certain, she found a reason to head near that part of the office to see if it was Jack or merely some vocal doppelganger. She had developed an irrational dislike of an agent in the office named David, based solely on his voice being similar to Jack's.
Jack was in and out of the office on a regular basis, sometimes present for team meetings or teaching courses, other times absent. Based on the calls to the front desk and a few conversations she had overhead of other agents, Jack was one of the more successful agents in the brokerage. He had been absent from the office for an agonizing period of almost a week shortly after Alison started and she began to worry that he may have no longer worked at the brokerage. When he returned tanned and all smiles, Alison almost welcomed him back before her nerves got the best of her. Since then, she had pictured Jack taking her on vacation, fucking her in a tropical hotel, teaching her how he liked his cock sucked as she knelt on the beach.
Despite her efforts to see him, Alison had yet to speak directly with Jack. Whenever he walked by, he was involved in a conversation, with a colleague or on the phone. Sometimes he seemed to not notice her at all, which seemed incomprehensible to Alison. He had fucked Megan's mouth while looking at Alison, surely he couldn't have forgot who she was or what had happened.
Alison blushed red as she remembered Megan's comment about her standing around staring at Jack. It was probably that obvious to everyone as she couldn't seem to look away from him whenever he was around.
At least there hadn't been anyone around today to hear what Megan had said to Alison. There was a popular training course starting today, located just north of the city. Combined with a major storm that was causing basement flooding all over the place, the office was mostly deserted. Alison hadn't seen Jack today at all and assumed that he was at the course or off today. Apart from Megan and one confused agent who thought the course had been taking place at the brokerage and had fled north when he realized his mistake, the place was pretty much deserted.
Alison piled a dozen or so completed binders together and carefully walked down the hall to the training room. Balancing the heavy, shifting binders that blocked most of her view, Alison managed to make it almost all the way to the storage shelves in the room before the binder second from the bottom slipped off to the side, causing all but one of the binders to go spraying onto the floor. Alison took advantage of the lack of people around to vent her frustration.
"Fuck me, fucking binders, fucking sliding, fucking all over the fucking place."
She bent over, once again showing off her ass crack to the world. As she leaned over to grab a binder, a voice spoke out of the corner, nearly causing her to scream.
