So this is what dying of mortification felt like. Actually, if I COULD die right now, I'd happily welcome that option. I'm certainly never going to live this down.
I'm standing in the change room at a boutique costume shop a few blocks down from the office. In front of me is my coworker, Damien. As always, he's dressed impeccably. And he looks perfect. And he's staring at me, eyes wide in what looks like surprised amusement. I'm sure he's memorizing this sight to make fun of me over for years to come. I feel a blush creeping slowly over my entire body, from my fuzzy pink ears right down to the tops of my shiny, four inch high, fuck-me boots...
Let's rewind a bit and explain just how I got myself into this embarrassing situation.
Six months ago I was hired as a senior associate at Zeidler & Barryson law firm. It's a big honor, they usually never hire seniors from outside, always promoting from within. As such, I was thrilled. And truly, I love almost everything about my job. It's challenging, exciting, and a great experience.
Except for one thing. Damien. Although he is my age, he's a junior associate, so technically lower than me on the company ladder. However, he also happens to be the boss's son. And apparently, he was not thrilled with daddy giving the senior associate position to "this random bitch" as opposed to him.
As you may have guessed, we don't get along. Explosive doesn't even begin to describe our relationship. Barely a day has passed in six months without us breaking out into yet another petty squabble. I don't even know how Damien gets any work done, with his penchant for showing up wherever I am and picking fights with me.
Something about Damien just seems to bring out this incredibly unprofessional side of me. Of course, it doesn't help that he's incredibly attractive. At 6'2'', he dwarfs my much smaller frame. He has broad shoulders, messy blond hair, and these wicked gray eyes. When I first laid eyes on him, all I remember is having to stoop to pick my jaw off the floor.
That was, of course, until I first heard him speak. So now I pass my days in screaming matches with the boss's son, and at night in my dreams we're screaming again... but for very different reasons.
And as for why I'm in a bunny costume? Well, a month ago Zeidler announced that we were going to have a company Halloween party, costumes mandatory. Being the workaholic I am, I completely forgot about it until today. October 30th. So I dragged my friend and coworker Macy out with me during our lunch hour to the nearest costume shop to try to find a last minute costume. And somehow Damien heard and stated that he needed a costume too, charming Macy into inviting him to tag along.
Unfortunately, this close to Halloween all of the good costumes were already gone. As I browsed down the aisles I realized that there was going to be very little choice left in my size. Damien didn't exactly make things easy, either. He followed me around the entire store, making snide comments about the outfits, and laughing at me under his breath. Finally, I snapped and all but ordered him away to find his own costume. At my wits end, I grabbed the first thing I saw in my size before storming to the change room.
It was a fuzzy, pink, playboy bunny outfit. Complete with ears, boots, and furry tail. A tight, almost see through, pink corset barely covered my breasts and revealed large expanse of my flat stomach above the matching pink undies. The underwear bunched up in the back underneath the pouf tail, leaving half of my ass cheeks hanging out. And that was it for coverage on my lower half until you reached the tops of my shiny stiletto boots.
All in all, the outfit screamed "sex". There was no way I could wear this to a work function. I would just have to find something else. I hear a rustle on the other side of the change room curtain. It must be Macy, coming in with something of her own to try. I reach for the curtain, intending to ask her if she found something that might fit me, and see Damien's shocked figure on the other side.
He obviously hasn't found a costume because he's still dressed in his work clothes. His attire emphasizes how naked I feel in this outfit. I know that it leaves nothing to the imagination. I feel myself flush as I realize that Damien's eyes are travelling freely up and down my figure.
Embarrassed, I try to yank the curtain closed again but Damien's hand comes up, blocking me.
His gaze roams hungrily over my exposed skin. Pathetically, I feel my body begin to respond to his attention. My heart begins to beat faster, my breathing picks up. I feel my stomach muscles tighten and my nipples begin to harden. Liquid heat pools in my center as I realize that I am standing inches from the man that's haunted my dreams for months as his eyes devour my flesh.
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Shock freezes my reactions as I stare down at the scantily clad girl in front of me. When I wheedled my way into an invitation to join Victoria and Macy costume shopping, I had no intention of doing anything other than put in a few quips about her outfit choices and engage in some verbal sparring. I know I shouldn't bait Victoria so much, but it's so difficult to resist how sexy she is when she's angry. Her eyes light up and her cheeks flush, her chest begins to heave. Oftentimes I have to run out in the middle of our arguments because watching her come alive like that gets me so hard I'm worried about giving myself away.
Victoria is hands down the most beautiful woman I've ever met. She's petite, with a slender figure, but still has plenty of curves. She has wavy black hair that I'm just itching to set free from the bun she usually wears it in. Ever since she started working at our company six months ago, I've spent my nights imagining how that messy mane would look spilled over my pillowcase.
My eyes drink in the sight before me, I hardly know where to look first. My gaze jumps from those plump, delicious looking breasts down to her toned, slender legs. My cock begins to harden in my pants. Vivid fantasies flash through my mind, of picking the petite girl up and palming those perfect breasts, of laying her back onto the tiny seat in the change room and tonguing her slit, of ripping off her skimpy undergarments and watching her writhe in ecstasy as I drive my cock deep into her pussy.
Victoria's eyes darken as she watches me standing in front of her. Her small pink tongue darts out timidly and wets her full bottom lip. Without even thinking, I close the distance between us and capture her lips with my own. She opens up in an exclamation of surprise, and I use that opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth, groaning with pleasure as I deepen the kiss.
When I finally draw back, Victoria's lips are cherry red from my attentions and her breathing is ragged and uneven. She knits her forehead together in confusion, but her gaze burns like fire into my own. She presses her heaving breasts against my chest. Her tongue sweeps out once more to make a slow pass over her lip, as if savoring my taste.
Arousal coursing through my body, I step fully into the change room and yank the curtain closed behind us.
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Without missing a beat Damien pushes me back against the change room wall. His hands roam freely over my scantily clad body. He brushes a few fingers gently over my nipples, which are straining through the fabric of the cheap costume. Each touch sends a forbidden jolt of electricity through my body.
