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She was so hot. I just loved to look at her as she left her apartment. No matter when or for what reason she looked very sexy. She had the kind of body that just screamed ‘fuck me’. And that is what I wanted to do. She was kind of short but had those perfect legs that gave the illusion of going on forever. She had that long, thick hair that was just perfect to nuzzle in too.

I watched her every day, and I knew her habits. On weekday mornings she dressed in a short dress type suit. All stiff and business-like, the type that made men and women equal in the workplace. Later she would come home and change for jogging. She wore some tight sweat pants and amorphous shirts. Because she had some huge breasts she wore one of those tight jogging bras. Every day she came back all hot and sweaty making me really horny.

Some would say, “If you wanted her so much, why don’t you get her?” Well for sure I wanted to but she always seemed to have another guy. And did she go through them. She never had one for more than a few weeks, and I wanted to be more than that. That is why I watched and studied her for so long. I knew her ins and outs, including her favorite sex positions, via a telescope bought for the purpose. As a matter of fact I finally decided that I would confront her with my love as soon as I found out one last bit of information. I didn’t know her name. I vowed that when I got it, I would get her.

One day she did not follow the usually routine. She went out to work did not come home for her daily jog. I saw this as an excellent chance to figure out her name. I knew for sure that her name would be on her mail, which she usually picked up from her box before jogging. Inconspicuously I slipped down to the mail boxes. The apartment owner either was a trusting soul or cheap because the boxes did not have locks. Lucky for me! I glanced and saw no one around. I quickly popped open her box and scanned her letters. Finally I say what I had been waiting for. Among the letters to occupant I found one addressed to ‘Miss Betsy Bryant’. I am ready to make my move. I knew in my mind I was going to get this woman and I would start the next time I saw her.

About 4 o’clock the next day I saw Betsy getting her mail. I slipped out of the apartment and came up the road as if I was going to the apartments. I walked up to her and pretended to ask her the direction to a friend’s place. When she was about to answer I said,”Wait a minute? Aren’t you Betsey Byrant? Don’t you remember me? I’m Jim, from school.”

This had her thoroughly confused and I moved in for the kill. I rambled on about some made-up school career until she invited me to her place. I had never really seen her place except from the windows, and I was impressed. She had impeccable taste in decor that seems the mark of the successful woman.

After we got on the couch I admitted to really being her neighbor and used the school mate bit as a ploy to get in her apartment. Betsy was shocked and I was afraid that she would kick me out. Finally, at my urgings she cooled down, and admitted that she knew I was BSing her anyway. The she started spouting off info on me! She knew everything about me. Of course I was surprised. It turns out that she used the computer at work to find out about me when she noticed me spying on her.

“Well, I bet you don’t know my favorite sex position,” I finally said.

“I bet I can find out,” she said slyly.

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With today’s new competitiveness in business, more and more hard work is going into our work weeks. Often I find myself working weekends in order to satisfy the need for additional work efforts. Recently, however, I was delighted by a turn of events which made this weekend requirement easier to take. Our company, like most, has be undergoing constant reorganization in an attempt to become more effective and with this comes the inevitable procession of changes in upper management. In addition the general age of my bosses had been declining. A recent change found me working for a good-looking woman about five years older than myself. I wondered how this was going to work out, and as you will learn it not only worked out great but has provided me with some of the most interesting work experiences in my life.

It all started, as I said, with my new boss. Jane was a good-looking dark-haired lady with nice tits and a great figure. While she looked nice she wore very conservative suits around the office and I did not think of her in especially carnal ways. Jane had brought with her a number of women who formed her inner circle, and while some of my peers thought this was a sign that the guys were going to get the shit jobs, I waited to see how things developed. Soon after Jane took over I received a number of interesting and sensitive assignments which were due in short time-frames. I was assigned one of Jane’s people to work for me and we began to work the project. Sue, the woman assigned to me, was a pretty, slim woman about 23, and while she wasn’t Bo Derrick she seemed to always to give off a very sexual aura which attracted me to her from the first. We ended up spending many evenings working on our project and I got to know Sue quite well. Sue had small firm breasts which she almost never covered with a bra and while her dress was never overtly sexy I found myself drawn to her and wondering how she would be in bed.

When the project was nearing completion the work effort intensified, and in addition to working nights, Sue and I were getting together on the weekends to complete the work on the required schedule. Sue invited me over to her house so we could work on the project in some more comfortable surroundings and since she was single I thought it would be nice. I arrived about 8:30 Saturday morning, Sue greeted me at her door wearing a short t-shirt nighty and apologizing for over-sleeping. I told her it was ok and how sexy she looked in her short nighty. Sue’s small firm tits were clearly visible under the thin white cotton and her nipples poked out against the fabric, making my cock get stiff.

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Their eyes had met at the turnstile….his fare ticket had been returned with a “See Attendant” notice, and his blush was very noticeable against his blonde beard. Rachael smiled sympathetically as he moved aside and let her through.

Sexy eyes she thought to herself as she walked to the escalator descending to the train platform. Hearing the train doors open, she ran quickly down the slowly moving stairway and arrived just in time to see the doors closing and the train pulling away. “Nutz!” she mumbled under her breath, and moved to her accustomed queue position, where she opened her novel.

The ill-fated mad dash to the train platform had made her warm and she removed her long coat, dropping her book in the process. As she bent over to pick it up, her rear end bumped against the person in back of her, and she swiftly straightened, turning to apologize. Now it was her turn to blush as she saw that same blonde beard and sexy eyes she had encountered upstairs at the turnstile. She had noticed him many times before, and had imagined he had watched her a few times as well, although she didn’t think it was true.

She averted her eyes quickly, not knowing what his thoughts were, but she couldn’t restrain her own. She tried to go back to her book, but couldn’t concentrate. The stranger had stepped forward to the side to look down the tunnel for an oncoming train, and she could see the slight bulge in his suit pants in spite of the jacket he held over his arm. He stepped back in place behind her, and she went back to her story.

Soon, she felt something push gently up against her ass, which felt much like a briefcase. He must have made a mistake, she thought, and mentally forgave him. Shifting from one foot to the other, she couldn’t help fantasizing about this stranger behind her. She had noticed he was about her age, of average height and weight; the kind of teddy bear she would love to hold and suckle. His face was that average-guy good looking, with strong cheekbones (what she could see beneath his beard), and smiling blue eyes.

Well, what am I doing day-dreaming about him” she asked herself. After all, he probably wouldn’t even LOOK at me. She unobtrusively tugged at her slightly snug blouse, smoothing it over her breasts, and rounded hips.

She had been uncomfortable all day, noticing how this blouse accentuated her large breasts, and how the new brassier she was wearing held them up and allowed them to bounce MUCH too much when she walked.

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Walking along the dark street, I thought for a moment to the almost daily occurrences that seemed to dominate the news. Numerous bodies had been found in the recent weeks. Bodies savaged physically, and sexually. Bodies of mostly women, but a male or two as well. Grinning to myself I walked on, shrugging my shoulders and pushing my hands deeper into the pockets of my overcoat. The tabloids were shouting about rampant vampires and wolfmen. Right. Even though the reputable papers did mention, from time to time, the disturbing fact that the victims did seem to be a bit on the anemic side, the whole thing seemed pretty outrageous. Here at the beginning of the 21st century, old ghost stories were dominating the papers. Chuckling lightly to myself, I turned and started across the street, heading toward the little bar that I usually frequented.

As I walked in, swinging my coat off my shoulders and hanging it on ‘my’ coat hook, the bartender gave me a nod. As I reached my stool, I found a draft waiting for me, and I casually tossed back a swallow, looking around the bar. The TV was on, over the end of the bar, and the late news was on, more jabbering about yet another body found just after nightfall today. Pity, I thought to myself. “It’s your buddy at work again, Slade,” the bartender jibed toward me.

“Can’t you put some other trash on Tom? Don’t you get sick of this shit?” pushing my empty mug toward him, he picked it up, and soon, I found it back before me.

“You know I only put it on to annoy you, Slade,” he grinned broadly at me and went to the other end of the bar, taking a drink to an old man sitting there. He always bugged me about this shit, knowing how I felt about sensationalism. We had talked often of how these losers would pull some cheap stunt, grab some publicity, and get credit for being so strange. And a vampire impersonator certainly had the attention of the city now. “You know they found that gal,” he gestured toward the screen which showed a body being carted into a waiting ambulance, face covered, “about a mile from here?” He grinned at me, and I just shrugged. No sense feeding his mirth.

“Yeah? You’re hitting them close to home, eh?” He laughed as I ducked the wet bartowel that soared toward me. Eventually, thankfully, the news changed to more mundane matters, and I watched silently as one little tragedy after another was shown. Pity.

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“He’s obsessed with boobs,” complained Maria, a new recruit to Mistress Jennifer’s cadre of dominant feminizers of hapless men. “My husband Bob just stares at any woman with a full figure–the fuller the better.”

It was easy to see why this disturbed her. Maria, though extremely attractive, was a petite, small-boned woman who was far from buxom. I was privy to this conversation, along with Teasing Tammy, because Jennifer, Maria, and Tammy’s sister and dominatrix, Susan, intended to use us to bring the unsuspecting Bob into a trap–a trap that would deprive him of his manliness forever, it seemed.

Tammy, though only 16, had been designed by Susan and Jennifer as the ultimate cock-tease, with full 35 C breasts. Although my own alternate persona, Sissy Dani, was generally less generously endowed, for this adventure I was also padded out to Playmate-like dimensions.

We were sent out to meet Bob at one of his favorite hangouts, a bar that specialized in attracting men who “appreciated” bosomy types. I was dressed for “bear”–a skin-tight white satin cocktail dress that played up my bogus breasts with a very short skirt, five-inch white satin heels, and dramatic make-up. Tammy had also been dressed to look older: She wore a black leather outfit, also extremely tight and short, with six-inch heels and equally dramatic make-up.

Our instructions (enforced by the post-hypnotic suggestions that created our submissive personalities) were to approach Bob, get him to buy us drinks, and then get him back to Jennifer’s house for his own transformation.

Within minutes after we arrived, I spotted Bob at the bar. “Well, hello there,” I cooed as I approached him, playing up my charms as much as I could.

“Hello yourself, little lady,” Bob replied, smiling. He looked me up and down, pausing noticeably (as expected) at my bust line. “And who’s this little heartbreaker?” he asked, as Tammy sidled up to his other side.

“That’s my sister, Tammy,” I replied. “I’m Dani.”

He put his arms around our waists, in the process letting his hands graze our “boobs.” I suggested he buy us a round of drinks. He made the order, and I told him and Tammy to find a quiet table and I would bring the drinks when they were ready. Bob readily agreed, seeing a chance, I suppose, to make a little time with the enticing Tammy while alone.

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