Performance Review
"Oh?" she asks. "You can?" With that, she slides her butt forward on the desk, but the skirt material under her body stays put. Those stocking tops are now more fully revealed. She plants her hands down between her legs in order to lean forward to look sternly at you. But her breasts are pressed between her arms, thrusting them out towards you.
She talks, but you are not able to concentrate. Your eyes are continuously drawn to her chest and the tops of her breasts.
"PANTYWRITER!" she barks loudly, startling you. "Are you going to listen to me, or are you just going to stare at my tits?!"
You mumble an apology, your face flushing as her as her skirt.
"I think I might know why you're late all the time," she says softly.
You look up at her, focusing on the red rims of her glasses. Nothing but the rims. Nothing. But. The. Rims.