chapter 3

As the elevator doors slid shut she found herself closing her eyes feeling a rush of glee dance in her stomach... The way he had rubbed his stomach after standing up. She imagined it over and over the rest of the morning wondering, hoping, that he would do so even more after all of this afternoon's business meetings.

She kept herself busy for most of the morning but in the late afternoon - probably around the time he was finishing his second meal she realized - she found her way into the restroom. On entering she recalled the way that the way that she had felt his eyes slide over her as he had showed her around this morning, his little maneuvers of awkward embarrassment as she had caught his gaze in there. Orla had answered all his questions politely, careful to flash him what she hoped was her best smile at every opportunity but she had been careful to remain largely quiet - allowing him to guide the conversation and making sure that she listened intently. She had kept herself close to him, quietly inspecting the room and all its grandeur in awe. She had wondered what it might be like to spend a night inside here, and from his quick exit, the butterflies in her stomach, told her he had been wondering too.

The dress that she had worn this morning was fairly plain: It was black with long sleeves and a plunging neckline which showed more of her collar bones than it did her cleavage. She had been careful to ensure that it was fitted, clinging to her tiny waist and emphasizing the perfect curve of her pert bum and rounding over her breasts but not showing too much of them off. But, that could be changed...should be changed she decided. The dress had four buttons on the front of her chest, she only needed to undo the top two and suddenly the line of her sumptuous cleavage was visible. She bent forwards towards the mirror realizing that from this angle the very top of her lacy bra was viable. She began to untwist her hair, aware that having it bound up so made it ringlet even more than it usually had - making it cascade in a wild tumble of curls down her back. He had said that there was work to do when he returned this evening... and she probably wasn't allowed to leave the building until he did. Finally, she applied her lipstick again the deep red almost jarring against the snow white luminescence of her skin.

She had set the glazed treats in front of his desk on a plate hoping that he might continue to pick at them as he entered and then she positioned herself at her desk for his arrival, trying to busy herself on work but all to desperate for his return. She kept checking behind her expectantly hoping that the elevator would spring into life, and he would emerge. She imagined the buttons on his shirt straining against his over fed gut, wondering how round it might be already? What had he eaten at every meal? If he had over eaten, did he rub it as openly as he had in the office? Maybe her excitement at his return would be all too obvious?

This was too good a first day at work to be true, surely she would wake up soon? She found herself daydreaming about what he might like look sat across from her, as he sat back idly caressing a stuffed belly as she wondered what it might take to see him so well fed everyday. Surely, this couldn't be? But, she had heard his comments right... he had spoken about overeating so freely and of being full...

It was somewhat unlike her to behave in such a way: she was so used to brushing off the endless amounts of male attention that came her way, that it seemed to make her nervousness a little more intense. Already, she was on edge just at the thought of seeing him again, and he was only her boss and this only her first day. Even if it turned out that he wasn't as impressively over fed; she knew then that she had to impress him. She had to take the opportunity to encourage him to overindulge. She found herself counting down the minutes until she expected him to return. For once, she looked forward to the many late nights ahead of her.

(more to come)