A buxom olive skinned blonde, sexy and aggressive.

You slap a few waves of bright blonde hair out of your plunging V neck. You want your best assets on display this morning, and your tan cutaway jacket gives your massive breasts plenty of visibility. The fabric of your equally revealing blouse strains from the pressure of your bulging breasts, forcing your undo another button. Your G cups are practically falling out of your clothes now.

You straighten the hem on your skirt so it sits snug against your full round ass. The skirt only comes to your mid thigh, so it shows off the full length of your long smooth legs kissed golden by Mediterranean heritage (certainly not by a tanning booth as you have no time for such luxuries).

You hear the elevator open. You take this last moment to apply a last coat of lip gloss and take a cross-legged seat at the front of your desk to greet him as there is a knock at the door.

You tell him to come in. He's quite a sight: an early twenties brown haired kid with a five o'clock shadow and a suit that hangs off him like he stole it from his father. His mismatched tie is loose around an open top button.

"What's up?" he asks, "I'm Daryll."

You stare at him with an incredulous grin. You can't believe someone show up to a professional interview so disheveled. You can't decide whether he is stupid or just lazy. Still, he's handsome in a goofy boyish sort of way and he may be the easily confused type that your charms could easily overwhelm. On the other hand, he may just be a lazy slimeball who would take any opportunity to make some extra cash in a law suit.