A young man I used to flirt and banter with here at the office one day finally admitted to me that, sometimes, he’s not checking a text message when he’s at my desk talking to me for 15-20 minutes at a stretch.
He was slyly using his cameraphone to take a picture of a place he didn’t want to stare openly at since we were “just friends” (his idea, not mine). I had always wondered why, on my days when I knew what I was wearing and how it looked from his angle (especially when I would lean forward a slight bit), he seemed oblivious to the cleavage. I had started out thinking “what better way to woo him to the dark side than cleavage?” But I was soon left wondering if perhaps he was gay. Yes, I know, you men are going to tell me that you’ve become stealth-masters at glancing at cleavage and we can’t tell. Yes, we can. I’m sorry to inform you. And since during every conversation, long flirtatious eye contact was always held, I knew where his eyes were looking and where they weren’t.
But he tricked me with the cameraphone.
I was quite aroused when he finally confessed one day in an email. I had worried that the “boob shirt” (you’ve all seen it before, “the picture that launched a thousand sperm”) was a bit TOO much for an office setting. I casually asked him in email one afternoon if he thought my shirt was too revealing for work “or is that something you just don’t notice with me?” There was silence for awhile.
Then I get a text. A pic message, actually, from him. Of a damn fine view of cleavage……wait…that top looks familiar…you guessed it, it was me. Was I offended? Skeeved out? Fuck no, I grinned like the cat who got the canary. I asked him to send me his favorite one that he had taken. I also asked how many he had taken….it was a lot, that’s all he would admit to. Below you’ll find his favorite.
I asked why it was his favorite, but he never answered me.
Over the next few weeks of his assignment, whenever I would be wearing one of my lower-cut tops, I would all but outright tell him to “take a picture, it’ll last longer”…when he got out his phone and said, not-quite-convincingly, “Oh I have a text, I wonder who it’s from” I would pointedly lean forward more, make the girls even more overflowing and obvious and grin up at him. My little not-so-secret voyeur.
Hmm, I need a replacement for Temp Boy……care to seek employment here, anyone? ;)