Chapter 63 BODY SHAMING MY WIFE

If Vicky was in a cocktail dress, Tori was in a prom dress. Vicky's cocktail dress was a formal black, Tori's was a flashy red. Tori wanted all eyes on her, and with the amount of skin she was showing, she was succeeding. The dress was scooped very low, showing an expansive amount of her bulbous breasts and deep cleavage.

The dress molded to her voluptuous frame and covered just enough of her to remain decent. The dress ended halfway up her thighs, and the thin straps left her arms bare. On her feet were a pair of high-heels, which helped showcase her long, firm legs. Her makeup looked more like she was ready for a night at the club, and her hair was perfectly composed in a wild, wicked manner.

While Vicky's look came across as composed and classy, Tori looked more brazen and wild. Something about her, not only her outfit, but her look, her hair, her makeup... there was a certain wickedness that came across very obviously. Vicky was smiling warmly in the photo, but Tori, she was almost smirking, as if teasing the viewer.

"You see it, just like I do. Your wife, looking great, just the perfect corporate wife, and me, the office whore, looking even better." Tori stated. "Now, I'm not just doing this to show pictures of me looking hot. This is the lead in to the main... thrust... of my pitch as to why I should be your assistant. And that pitch is how I, Tori K, have your wife beat in every possible way." With that, she pulled a laser pointer from her pocket and continued.

"Now, I want you to look at the picture, Randy, really examine it," she teased, but that smirk of her was getting under my skin, and she knew it. Through gritted teeth, I just looked up at her, my silence the only assent I was gonna give her. She pointed the laser dot at Vicky. "I mean, your wife is pretty, I'll give her that, and she at least seems fit, which is good. But let's examine the important things. Let's start right here," she said, shining the laser dot at Vicky's chest. "Let's talk about your wife's breasts, Randy. Does it bother you that your wife is as flat as a board?"

"Tori..." I warned, my blood boiling, but she loved it. She was loving the anger she was causing me.

"Ooh, I hit a sore spot, it seems. I'm sorry, but all girls compare cup sizes. I didn't realize it was a touchy subject to you. So, it bothers you how small and pathetic your wife's breasts are?" Tori asked casually.

"Tori!" I called out again, losing my cool. "Don't talk about my wife."

"But Randy, that's all I'm gonna be talking about, so please, calm down," she said, slightly shaking her breasts side-to-side, emphasizing their size as she seemingly tried to cool my anger with the sight of her bouncing boobs. "I know the truth can be tough to hear, but we all know it. It's a fact.

Vicky has itty bitty titties. They're mosquito bites. I mean, all the women in the office like her, but we all can't believe how tiny her little titties are. We all can't believe you settled down with a woman with breasts so small, when you easily could have been with a girl with tits so much bigger. C'mon, Randy, you have to admit your wife's tits are, like, crazy small," she contested, stealthily unbuttoning another button on her top, allowing more of her copious breast flesh to become visible.

"I love my wife's chest just fine." I said, looking away, wanting to change the subject. As I said before, a girl's cup size doesn't change my feelings on her. The foundation of a sturdy relationship is based on stronger things than that. I mean, all things the same, would I mind if she had bigger breasts? Of course not. But honestly, Vicky is perfect the way she is." I Said defending my wife.

"Just fine, huh? Not a really strong endorsement." Tori said. "Now, look at mine." I just looked her in the eyes, not wanting to play along. "C'mon Randy, the sooner you do, the sooner this ends. The sooner your eyes are hungrily gazing on the smooth, hot, sexy flesh of my giant breasts, the sooner we can move on." I held her gaze, resisting her invitation.

"Fine. You can look at the real thing, or the picture, either choice is fine." I lazily shifted my glance back to the picture, where Tori was shining the laser at her own pictured, jutting chest. "Look at my tits, Paul. So big...so soft...so perfect...34 EE's, baby, and they are all real. Just imagine squeezing them, playing with them... the softness is addicting, you'll never get enough," she said, her tone low and lusty as she moved closer to my desk, leaning over it again. "Have you ever thought about squeezing my tits, Randy?" she asked, shaking her tits slightly, trying to get me to look at her exposed cleavage. I glanced at her in the eyes, the look in my eyes voicing my displeasure. "I bet you have. I mean, me and Vicky, together, it really showcases the differences between us. Your wife is all flat and dull, but I have all these luscious curves. My tits... my ass," she said, turning slightly to point her butt at me. "She's pretty. I'm hot. She's classy, I'm dirty. She's a wife... I'm a slut."

"All men need a slut, Randy. Especially guys in power. They work so hard and do so much good, every so often, they just need to vent all that stress somewhere. I'm sure all the big bosses you idolize have sluts like me too. Men like you... they need to do all the sick, disgusting, hot things they could never do with their wives. Things they couldn't possibly do to a woman they respect. That's why women like me exist, Randy. That's the role we play. All men have these needs, and women like me can provide them," she affirmed, pausing for a moment, clasping her hands together.