“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” my boss intercommed my desk.
I was nervous, as most would be in this situation. But it wasn’t because I was worried about being fired, it was because I was worried my shirt was wrinkled or my makeup was smudged. At 9am on a Wednesday, I was looking damn good. For any given 9am class, you could pretty much guarantee to find me rolling up with Norts and a hangover. But I go all. fucking. out. for my 9-5 job. Why? Because my boss is hot.
After spending a little too much time hoping to look the best I could, I strolled into his office.
“Hey, boss!” I flashed a smile.
“Have a seat,” he smiled back.
I sat down, trying to appear natural. But I would be lying if I said his presence didn’t make me feel tingly. He was the definition of the hot boss. His manly beard was perfectly kept, and his black hair was sprinkled with white. He was fit and tan, and the only flaw he seemed to have was the glistening reminder coming from his wedding band. Suddenly that was all I could focus on.
“So I just wanted to tell you that you nailed that last campaign. Our clients are very happy,” he said, pulling me out of my trance.
“Oh! Thank you! I worked hard on it.”
“It shows, we’re very happy to have you on board.”
He smiled warmly at me, and I began to blush. Not wanting to give away my emotions, I stood up to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he called out.
“I like your dress.”
I rushed back to my desk, pulled out my phone and frantically sent a message in the group chat with my best friends.
Me: “So… there’s like a 110% chance I’m going to fuck my boss.”
Anne: “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you should probably not do that.”
Me: “Stop shitting on my dreams.”
Natalie: “Wait… like manager boss or CEO boss?”
Anne: “That’s better. Or worse. I can’t decide.”
Natalie: “Ok so would it be like ‘oh I think you’re hot and want to have sex with you’ or ‘hey you’re rich, buy me shit.'”
Me: “No he’s super hot… but he’s also like rich soo….”
Natalie: “Stop being such a slut haha, go through the ranks like everyone else.”
Me: “OMG! I’m not doing it to get ahead, I want to do it to get ~some~ head.”
But for right now, I guess I just have to admire him from afar. Unless, of course, he leaves his wife. Then you better believe I’m in there like swimwear..
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