Awkward

Pete was a good worker but had a really shitty boss. Hazel became his boss about six months ago. That's when things got tense around the office for more than one reason.

First, all of his other coworkers considered her the biggest ball buster in the company. She maintained the reputation every time she moved within the company. The stories, rumors, and gossip was enough to strike fear into even the most confident worker. Of course, the less savory of individuals called her 'Bitch Hazel' the unholy terror in whispered tones.

The other reason for the **** tension was she was an eleven out of ten executive in early late twenties. On her first day, men and women alike were immediately off guard at her appearance. While wearing a relatively conservative light gray pencil skirt suit, she looked like she could have just walked off of an Italian modeling runway. Hazel stood at 5'10", had golden hair pulled up tightly into a bun on the back top of her head, toned legs which could be seen just above the knee, a tight ass accentuated by the pencil skirt which came up high over her hips showing off a slim waist, and just the hint of the cleavage of her perfectly shaped C sized breasts. Her entire being, face and body, looked as if it could have been chiseled from marble showcasing a Greek goddess.

All the douchey guys kept their fingers crossed for some lurid office romance. After six months of striking out, those same guys added a new moniker to her nickname. She was now called Bitch Hazel the bull dyke.

Pete noticed how hot Hazel was like any red blooded guy but chose not to engage in the real sleazy conversations. Those guys had a reputation for being dicks.

Today, Pete was preparing for his out of town meeting tomorrow at his cubicle. It was at the corner intersection of several other cubicles. The 'douchey guys' had chosen to congregate there today and discuss Hazel's attire.

Douche number one, "Bitch Hazel looks like she wants someone to bend her over today. Did you see those heels and that ass? It looks like she painted that skirt on."

Douche number two, "I'll bet a good fucking would calm that bull dyke down. You'd have to pull the stick out of her ass first."

Pete stood up to tell them to shut the fuck up. Before he could tell them off, Hazel walked briskly from around the hallway corner. Her eyes were ablaze and shot daggers at the three of them. There was no way she didn't hear all of that and Pete looked like he was grouped in with the douches with how he was standing near them in his cubicle.

"Well, if you three can stand around gossiping like school girls, you must not be that busy. I'm accelerating the deadlines of your interim reports," Hazel explained.

The douches ambled off towards their workspaces leaving the full wrath of Hazel falling solely on Pete.

Pete tried to object and explain but was curtly cut off by Hazel in a heated tone, "Peter, that presentation had better be perfect, our funding for Q3 depends on you not screwing this up. I sent you the details for the hotel and conference center. I'd like you to brief me on your presentation tonight in case I need to correct your mistakes."

Even angry, she was hot in the tight white button down blouse with her svelte profile and push-up bra as she continued, "You might want to close your mouth, you wouldn't want the bitch to pull the stick out of her ass and plug that stupid hole in your face."

As fast as she arrived, she was gone leaving Pete feeling like some just burned his house down. Those fucking douche bags! Now he was squarely in the cross hairs of Hazel's rage. Fuck, this trip was going to suck.