Steve Golden - Hot pants salesgirl

"Mr. Cheevers will see you now," said the poker-faced secretary, placing the phone back in its cradle.

It's about time, thought Missy, standing up and rearranging her stylish red dress. She peered down at her slender calves encased in sheer golden hose. She swelled out her chest proudly. Her hand ran quickly through her platinum hair.

Everything was perfect. No need to check her make-up. She'd done that a dozen times while she was waiting, making sure the dark blue eye shadow was just right, pursing her full red lips against each other to increase their glossy sheen. She glanced one last time at the prim secretary, then turned the door handle and stepped inside the inner office.

"Ah, Miss Treats! Come on in and sit down," Mr. Cheevers welcomed, "My, but you are a pretty girl, aren't you?"

Missy smiled her sexiest smile and swung her hips loosely as she moved to the seat in front of Cheevers' desk. This guy might be old enough to be her father, but he wasn't blind. If sheer girlish appeal was a requirement for this job, she certainly wasn't going to lose out for lack of effort in that area.

"And so, you want the job as assistant salesgirl, is that right?" he queried, his eyes running up and down her lithe young body.

"That's right. I'm out of school now, and I need a job badly."

"Have you any idea how many young women I've seen this morning already, all clamoring for the job? About a dozen. Some of them with quite a lot of experience in department store sales. What makes you think you're any better qualified than they?"

Missy's heart fell. What a question to start out with! He was right, of course. There were probably dozens of girls better suited to this job than she. What did she have to offer that was more attractive?

Her stomach lurched crazily. Well, there was always one area in which she couldn't be beaten. She'd had enough guys tell her so over the last few years that she had no doubt it was true.

"Well," she began, her heart racing, "I am very good at getting along with people, especially men. I believe that given a chance, I could sell anything to your male customers. Anything at all." She leaned forward, pretending to adjust her dress, and the pale inner swells of her luscious tits heaved forward and separated inside the low-cut top.

"Yes…" Cheevers murmured quietly, his gaze glued to the young girl's stunning cleavage. Some dress to come to a job interview in! he mused. She obviously wore no bra, and he could damn near see her nipples! They were such large tits for such a slender girl.

"Men seem to like me. I'm not sure why," she smirked. "Believe me, I could sell them anything."

"I bet you could," he muttered absently, raising his eyes to her face and studying her with care. She really was amazingly pretty. Huge grey eyes stared frankly into his. Her nose crinkled up in a tiny childish smile and her tongue scraped sexily over her lush, red lips. "As a matter of fact, many of our customers happen to be men. But I'm not sure that qualifies you over any of the other applicants."

"Oh, but it does, don't you see?" Missy insisted, rising from her chair and leaning over the desk towards him. Her wavy platinum hair fell forward around her face. Her tits swayed down inside the flimsy dress top. "Sex appeal can be such an asset in sales, don't you agree?"

He glared, fascinated, into her deep cleavage. Her tits were like two huge, perfectly formed mounds of dough, golden brown on top, where they'd been exposed to the sun, and a pale milky white below, where they'd been concealed in bras and bikinis. As she bent lower over the desktop, he swore he could see the edge of one pink circle of nipple peeking from under the red fabric.

She fixed him with a bright, determined stare and licked her lips for the third or fourth time in less than a minute. "Isn't it?" she whispered hoarsely.

Then she stood up, letting her tits heave back into her chest. Slowly, calmly, she skirted the desk and came round to where he was sitting. She slipped her ass onto the notepad in front of him, placed a foot on the arm rest of his chair, and spread her legs under the light red dress.

She slipped the strap of the dress off her right shoulder. The fabric rustled down lightly, revealing most of the upper globe of her magnificent tit. Tugging gently at the material, she eased inch after inch of tanned skin into the open, till finally a hopelessly lengthened brown nipple snapped to freedom, poking out over the dress top like a squat thumb tip.

"Good God," croaked Cheevers, swallowing. He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful. The nipple, the puffy circle of dark flesh the nipple sat on, the surrounding globe of half-pale, half-brown tit – everything was all so perfect, so mouthwatering.

"Do you like it?" Missy breathed, watching his face carefully. "Do you think it's pretty?"

"Mmmmm," answered Cheevers, grasping the arms of his chair tightly. The tit hung heavily over the top of her dress, its long nipple pointing at him accusingly. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to flick the stiff nubbin with his thumb. He wanted to take her nipple in his mouth and suck.

"Would you like to see the other one?" she asked him quietly. "Would you like me to take my other tit out and show it to you? I like showing men my tits."

She grabbed hold of her dress again and pulled down. The covered tit slowly came into view. The nipple, like the other one, popped out into the open like a knob of granite. She unhooked her arm from the shoulder strap and the dress flopped uselessly over her rib cage and stomach. It came to rest in a tangled roll around her waist.

"Jesus Christ!" groaned Cheevers. "What fantastic tits! What fantastic fucking tits!"

"So you like them?" asked Missy. "I'm so glad! Most men do. They always say that the nipples are real long. They always seem very impressed with that. And of course I'm pretty well endowed to boot."

"They're gorgeous! They're simply gorgeous!" moaned Cheevers. "I've never seen tits like them. So firm and full! So big! And those nipples!"

"You can touch them if you like. I don't mind, really. I like having my tits squeezed."

There was a low whimper somewhere deep in his chest, and the film of sweat along his brow gleamed brightly. The limp log of his cock stirred gently against his thigh. Slowly, steadily, blood began to flow into his pulsing prick.

"Go ahead. I don't mind. Feel them all you want. Feel my nipples. You'll enjoy it, I guarantee." She was bending over him, swinging the swollen tits in front of his face like lush, ripe fruit. Her heavy tits swayed and separated, their nipples seeming to grow longer as he watched.

"This is crazy! This is simply crazy!" he announced in a gritty, dreamy voice. "I'm supposed to be interviewing you for a job, and you're naked to the waist, showing me your tits! This is absolute madness!"

"No it isn't. It's very natural. You want to know what my best qualifications are. I'm showing you. Don't you want to examine my qualifications while you've got the chance?"

Supporting herself with her hands on her knees, she leaned forward, shimmying her tits back and forth before him like an experienced stripper. Her lush tits quivered and rolled as she moved. He brought up his hand, touched the underside of her left tit with his fingers, and dented the soft juicy flesh tenderly. A thrill shot from his fingertips all the way into his crotch.

"They're so beautiful! So beautiful!" he murmured. "Like nothing I've ever seen!" He cupped the underside of her tit in his palm, lifted it, felt its weight in his hand. Her tits seemed to weigh several pounds.