Chapter 2

Everyday that I go to the office, I feel myself feeling with both excitement and anxiety. Excited for the heads that are going to turn and all of the staring that will be coming my way. I love it when people dish on me. I love it when men talk to my tits instead of my face. It just reminds me how much power they hold, the influence they have in order to sway things my way from sharpening a pencil to doing a job that I know they really don't want to do. I get excited when I watch them tripping me down to nothing so they can gaze upon the perfect body in beneath, popping buttons and sliding my blouses on down so they can unveil my big breasts and my hot body anyway they wish. I prefer it be more like a slow unwrapping where each article is taken down with the tentative and care befitting a goddess like me.

Feeling the rest of the wind blow against my back, ruffling my jacket and pushing my hair gently, I take a deep breath. As I feel my lungs filled, I can also feel the heavy weight of my epic endowments rise and stick out even more as the silk of my button-up blouse tightens over my enormous rack. The buttons threatening to burst, I exhale and put a smile on my face when I see the receptionist look up with a smile to greet me.

"Good morning Miss Black... Or should I say Mrs. Beauchamp?"

Seeing her eyes lock onto mine, I watch as they slowly drift down stare at my eye popping body. This is where I start to feel my anxiety bubble. It's one thing when a man looks me up and down, his eyes pausing to gaze upon my beautiful breasts before trawling down the rest of the way to take in my thin waist and slender, but still shapely hips, but when a woman doesn't, it feels as though they are studying me.

Dissecting me.

Even though they have been doing this for years, I am always afraid of the one day that a particular look enters their eye, the look that they know.

They know my secrets.

From the falseness of my breast to the padding in my panties, that look will tell me that they know that there is a skinny girl hiding behind the Thora of falsehoods, trying to be something she's not.

Suppressing my urge to run, I take a pitched breath and roll my shoulders back as I give her a determined look of confidence. Put her eyes pause on my boobs and then drift down the rest of my figure only the snap back up and look me in the eye again, I know my secrets are safe. She is jealous, or she is admiring everything that I presumably have while no longer caring or suppressing the urge to compare.

"Mrs Beauchamp will only be after my marriage in a couple of weeks. Until then Miss Black it shall be." I respond with a little laugh and watch as Julie joins me.

"Okay Miss Black." Julie says to me, stealing another glance at my outfit.

Feeling as pretty as a peacock, i stride into my domain, the office where people are still waking up and getting ready for yet another boring day. As I walk down the rows of cubicles, I feel heads begin to turn as one by one everyone notices me. My big tits bouncing firmly and yet authoritatively beneath my blouse, I can see the eyes darting towards them and then widen as they take in the rest of me. Wearing a smartly fitted jacket over a tight white blouse and matching skirt that stops just short of the knee, my classy and yet appropriate stiletto heels clack loudly from the tile beneath me. There is another sound emanating from my thighs and that is from the slight scratching of my pantyhose. As I walk I make eye contact with a few of the better looking men in the office. Even smiling and offering a good morning, I know that as they wave and say good morning back, their focus is not on me, but on my body.

Twirling my hips as each perfectly placed step glides me closer to my glass enclosed office, I know I am driving them wild from the bounce of my breasts to the roll of my big and juicy bottom. Stealing a glance at 1:00 in particular, I can see the front of his trousers positively bulging just before he maneuvers a piece of paper to hide it from me. When I look up he is blushing slightly and that's when I hear the chorus of creaking from many of an office chair as guys cross their legs or turn away. If the men made me smile it was the reaction of the women that really told me it was all worth it. They may be smiling and acting nice, but I know they hate me. I know each and every single one of them think they can do my job better than me and that I only got to my position because of my cup size.

It's not my fault that Mr Lambert likes over the top busty girls...

It probably didn't help that during our interview his office was particularly hot that day which necessitated me opening a few buttons of my blouse.

Sashaying into my office and up to my desk, I set my purse down on the corner as I pull out my chair and go to sit down. As I lower myself down, I can feel my skirt and my stuffed panty stretching as I push out my bottom to take a seat. The lower I go, the more I can feel my bulbous behind drifting lower. If I were wearing hipster jeans then no doubt the top of my butt crack would be hanging out. The moment I am settled in my seat and turning on my computer there is a knock on my door. Looking up I smile when I see Clark Beauchamp standing in the frame looking as handsome as the devil himself.

"Good morning gorgeous." He says in that deep, baritone voice of his that befits a man of his stature and looks. A classic hunk from head to toe, his face is punctuated with a strong jaw and double chin with deep set eyes that glisten like bright blue ponds. Feeling myself melt as he looks deeply into my eyes, I am like putty when he comes up beside me and places his hand along my back as he uses the curl of his finger to tilt my chin. Closing my eyes, I part my lips as I feel his pressing to mine and his tongue gliding into my mouth. As our tongues dance, his left hand brushes along my cheek before gliding down my neck, then my collarbone where it slips beneath my still buttoned up jacket. Unable to feel him for a moment, I let out a squeak when he pushes firmly into my chest. Feeling my massive boob swell and expand, it is soon jostling slightly which means he is groping and playing with it.

"Good morning handsome..." I say all sultry and such as I quell the pang of guilt I feel bubble up inside of me.

Not saying a word, he continues kissing me hard as I feel the jostle stop against my chest. Only a moment later do I feel his fingers gently sliding up my inner thigh, parting them as he slowly slides my skirt up. When his fingertips press into my bulging panties, I squirm in my seat as he plays with my pussy.

"I hope you slept well and had a very nice dreams." He whispers into my ear.

"Oh I did... I couldn't stop thinking about you inside of me, filling me with that beautiful and big cock of yours." I moan softly as I feel my hand drift through the air and fill with his burgeoning member. Pulsating and hot, he is fully erect. All seven and a half inches of his manly crescendo.

"Oh Victoria... No other woman makes me feel as much like a man as you do. When you lower yourself on top of me and I feel your womanhood opening and stretching to me as you struggle to take it in that hot and tight pussy of yours..." Clark serenades me as he glides his fingers down beyond the fullness of my lips and teases into the slit of my panties, his finger dipping inside of my sopping wet hole. "It is like I have died and gone to heaven."

Squirming in my chair, I know this isn't right. My boyfriend, who is also the sales manager, shouldn't be touching me like this at work. Especially with everyone in the office being able to see me through the windowed walls... But I can't stop him. Done with the way we kiss and his touch as well as I feeling his excitement at being with me. Taking a breath, I arch my back just as he plunges his finger inside of me.

"Uh!" I squeak as my hips roll to the rhythm of his twirling finger.

"You and I are going to have such a good life together, Victoria. I love you so much." Clark groans that withdraws his finger, our lips parting just as he stands up.

My cheeks flush and with a big smile on my face, I wiggle my skirt down and pray that I am not dripping too much. Seeing the way he is looking at me, still ogling me as he did the very first day he ever laid eyes on me, I feel both excitement and regret swirling around inside at the same time. Excitement at the fact that he enjoys me and my body so much, but regret that I have yet to tell him I'm not who he thinks I am.

In the 6 months that we have been together I have yet to let him touch my tits without my bra on. In fact not once has he taken off my panties... I told him his wedding gift for me to him would be the first night he got to touch all of my body and not just my waist, or my legs, or my back...

How do I tell him, the man of my dreams that the woman is about to marry is not the busty and curvy goddess that he so obviously loves?

Looking into his eyes, I can see that he's not really looking at me, he's looking at everything else. All of the carefully constructed distractions that I have cultivated over the years that have brought me status and advancement as well as the much-needed confidence boost that only superficial beauty can deliver. As I feel my heart rate calm and the blush of my cheeks recede, I see his eyes drifting down to my chest.

"I'll see you tonight." He says with that charming and heart melting wink of his and when he throws me that little finger pistol, I cannot help but cover my heart with my hands and swoon.

"Do you want me to bring dinner, or can I cook for you?" I flirt as I tease the top button of my blouse. One pinch and I can reveal a sea of big and bubbling cleavage.

Eyeballing my juicy and big tits, Clark is begging me with his eyes to do it.

*Pop...*

"I would really love to make us dinner tonight...* I say nice and low as I pull open my blouse and show my man his bounties. Looking up nice and slow, I watch his eyes open wide as he takes in only but a small portion of my very, VERY generous H cup breasts.

"Okay baby, whatever you want..." Clark says as he leaves my office.

Blowing him a kiss, I wave him goodbye as I watch him leave with a big smirk on my face. Just as I am about to button up my blouse, I hear the familiar conking of oversized block heels as Lisa pops right into my office without so much as a knock. Storming right up to my desk, she stops with a star as she drills her fists right into her skinny as a stick waist.

"Victoria, how many times must I have to talk with you about public displays of affection?" Lisa barks, her hollowed out cheeks stretching as her wide open eyes stare down at me.

Looking up for twiggy little legs as they disappear under her shorter than mine black skirt, she is painful to look at as her clothes wrinkle over her slender skinny body. Wearing a gray sweater blouse that is low cut across the entire front, she has her tits pushed right up to her chin as two pointed and round peaks stick right out. Staring at her so-called 34DD's, Lisa's iron straight platinum blonde hair and overall look is supposed to glean like that of her icon, Pamela Anderson. However she falls just a little short. With her tits nearly hanging out of her top, the slightest cough could make them spill right out over the top! That's because the secret to her Double D's is a push-up bra stuffed with falsies.

Trust me all the girls know about it. We've all seen her come out of the shower at the company gym with those saggy tater tots dangling like empty sacks.

There's also a rumor that she snorts crystal meth.

"And as the head of human resources don't you think your outfit's a little inappropriate?" I reply then turn my attention to my computer and pretend to start catching up on my emails.

"The only reason Clark hasn't been fired yet is because his father owns the company. You on the other hand are not so lucky. When he gets bored of you and moves on to somebody else, your ass will be grass." Lisa snarls and promptly rolls her shoulders back to make her boobs appear larger.

Rolling my eyes at this obvious attempt at one-upmanship, I simply undo another button to my blouse. Letting the fall length of my cleavage hang right out of my top, I had insult to injury by gently squeezing my elbows together as I pretend to be captivated by something in my inbox. "OoOOooOo..."

Looking away, Lisa Huff said she crosses her arms under her propped up and padded boobs. "If I find out you're looking at porn, you're gone."

"It's not porn dipshit..." I say with a sneer, the condensation dripping from my voice as thick as maple syrup as I spend the monitor around to show her. "That's where I'm getting married."

I really don't know how long Lisa was diluting herself into thinking that she had a chance in getting back together with Clark, but when she saw what was splashed on my monitor, her aggressive demeanor instantly crumbled. I mean the big fat fucking rock on my ring finger should have been more than enough to tell her that he had made his choice after all...

Turning the monitor back around, I give the now paltry and diminished a little woman a once over with a glazed over and the board look in my eye. The one that all the hot and popular girls have when looking down at losers... "So is there anything else you want?"

Shifting her gaze as she mutters under her breath and shuffles her feet, Lisa simply turns and walks out of my office. "No more PDA!!!"

I wait till she is long gone and 5 minutes has passed before muttering my own reply. "I didn't seem to be a problem back when you were dating him."

And just as I say that a dreadful thought comes to mind. They'd only been dating for a couple of weeks when he dumped her. Rumor has it it was over the moment he took off her bra for the very first time. It's also no secret that Clark Beauchamp is a notorious Playboy who is always pictured with girls who have the biggest boobs... Fake or real doesn't matter, the man I am about to marry is a huge boob guy.

What will he do when he finds out that I paste my big titties on every single day?