Hi there. My name is Mia and life is a bowl of cherries because I’m young and very pretty. There’s no point in beating about the bush here. I’m a ten. I’m dropdead gorgeous. I cause quite a stir in any environment where men are present. Like at work for example. Lots of men there. I’m a graduate trainee at a large company and all the guys in my department fancy me like crazy. They are forever ogling! They can’t help themselves. I know that every single one of them would love to fuck me. They dream of fucking me. But they can dream on because I am not available. I have a dishy boyfriend a few years older than me who is extremely well endowed and spoils me rotten in bed. He’s filthy rich too, if you must know. We live together in a fabulous apartment in the very best part of town. So I am OK thanks very much. Girls like me are always OK, aren’t they? Girls like me want for nothing.

I have a whale of a time at work. It’s great to be a pretty girl surrounded by men. I love it. Perhaps it’s to do with me being half Italian. We latin girls know what men are like and we wouldn’t wish it any other way. Least if we’re pretty we wouldn’t. We relish the attention. Well I do anyway! I know perfectly well what a serious distraction I am to my male colleagues and I play up to it quite shamelessly. The way I put myself together for the office is calculated to draw the male gaze. I take plenty of time over it, much to my boyfriend’s amusement. He knows the reason why and it doesn’t bother him at all. Mark says he likes the idea of all these guys lusting after what only he is permitted to enjoy. I know this is true because when we’re in bed and I giggle and tell him what a terrible pricktease I’ve been at the office that day, Mark laughs and his big cock immediately goes nice and hard. It really gets him going and makes him want to fuck my brains out. Which is lovely for me!

So, yeah, I do work on my look. My hair is naturally dark and lustrous and I have it carefully (carelessly) tousled. I don’t need to wear makeup but I choose to because it just emphasizes my sexiness all the more. My big brown flashing eyes are highlighted to intensify their sultry drama. My full pouting lips are painted crimson to match my long and exquisitely manicured nails. My pedicure is equally flawless. Because a pretty girl mustn’t forget her feet. Men certainly don’t. The finishing touch before I leave home is a dab of perfume to my neck and behind the ears. I use an ultra seductive scent which on a girl as attractive as me is guaranteed to make men think of the bedroom. Or more precisely, of me in the bedroom! My outfits are designed to have a similar effect. Because, OK, I will admit it, the way I dress for work is a teeny bit provocative. You might even say it’s a little unprofessional. But screw that. I want the men at the office to be imagining me naked when they see me.

I spend a fortune on clothes. Or my boyfriend does rather. Mark loves to indulge me. Which is great because I love to be indulged! I have superb legs (smooth, tanned, shapely) and therefore always wear skirts to the office, slinky designer skirts which fit me like a glove and end well above the knee. I teem with heels, sometimes kitten, sometimes killer stilettos, sometimes ‘casual sexy’ open toe sandals, and it will be either bare legs or the sheerest of tights. Never stockings since I don’t care to be tacky. Leave that to all those older women who try too hard. Meow!

If it’s a bare legs day I make sure they are beautifully moisturized for maximum impact. I occasionally let Mark do this for me in the morning as a special treat. It’s a treat for me too because after he’s done my legs we’ll both be turned on and he usually extends his ‘duties’ to another part of my anatomy, namely my pussy, which receives the full service courtesy of his delightfully skilful tongue. It’s such a luxurious way to start the day! Especially since I’ve probably been nicely fucked already before we got out of bed. Yeah, it’s tough being me, lol.

My tops do not disappoint either. I go for classy but artfully revealing. The sort of items which leave little doubt as to the size (large!) and shape (ideal) of the breasts of the girl wearing them. If it’s a blouse it will be of gossamer fine silk and I will have one too many buttons undone. Otherwise it will be delicate and extremely feminine, cut to show plenty of flesh. Nothing tarty but sufficient to inflame and tantalize the male of the species. I wear a bra, of course, but my bras are little lacy numbers which are there to accentuate not hide.

The impact is pretty devastating on the men who work with me. They try to retain their composure, poor things, but they really can’t. All they can think about is how fucking hot I am. It drives them mad me floating around all day looking like a wet dream. They find it hard to do anything except letch at me. I love how they stare with such wistful longing as I sashay around the open plan, ass swaying, hips wiggling, the unattainable object of desire. It amuses me how easy it is to get them worked up. I sit at my desk, legs crossed, hem riding high, pleasantly conscious that every male in the vicinity is craning to get a better view. It gives me a sadistic buzz to imagine all the imprisoned, frustrated dicks getting hard for me as their owners struggle to concentrate on what they are meant to be doing.

I have tremendous fun winding the guys up. When I’m at my desk I tease the ones close to me with my lovely legs. I keep slowly crossing and recrossing them, skirt going a teeny bit higher each time, putting a little more mouth-watering thigh on display for their lusty gaze. I will often stretch in my seat, arms above and behind my head, so that my fabulous tits jut out and vie for attention with my stunning legs. If I’m feeling particularly naughty I might dangle a shoe on the edge of my toes. Or I might casually scratch an imaginary itch up under the edge of my skirt. Stuff like that which I know drives men wild. I love that I am able do this to the men at the office and there’s not a damn thing they can do about it - apart from suffer!

Sometimes I catch a guy’s eye as he’s admiring me. If he’s one of the good looking ones I will send him an insinuating little smile. Make it clear that I know exactly what he’s doing and that it’s absolutely fine by me. If it’s one of the less attractive, geeky types I will probably gaze coolly at him and smirk, so that he gets sheepish and looks away. Or I might decide to embarrass the poor guy by calling out across the room that I’d like him to stop fucking letching at me. Cue loud eruption of general sniggering and catcalls at the expense of the suitably mortified offender. I have a definite cruel streak and so I quite enjoy doing that. But it just depends on my mood.

Guys will come over to flirt with me, least the braver ones will, and I encourage this. I flirt back, lead the guy on, allow him to make a dribbling idiot of himself. Often it’s more than one at a time. It’s not unusual for there to be a cluster of admirers around my desk, all competing for my favour and intent on snatching glimpses at my generously exposed thighs or down my gaping top. I pretend not to notice the perving because I like them doing it. I imagine them as hungry salivating dogs and my flaunted assets as the juicy bone being held maddeningly just out of reach. I love the idea of that. Like I say, I have a cruel streak! Although it is hardly my fault, is it? I can’t help having great legs and fantastic tits. And I can’t help being unavailable. So if guys want to upset themselves foaming over what they know they can never have, who am I to stop them?

It’s mainly men in my department but there are other women. One of these, Janice, has a desk right next to me. She’s my age, also a graduate trainee, the only other female one, but apart from this we have virtually nothing in common. Certainly as far as looks go we haven’t. Janice is most definitely not dropdead gorgeous. Rather unattractive, in truth. Overweight, plain, bad skin, mediocre hair, you name it. And there she is having to sit beside me, poor cow. The contrast is plain ridiculous. It’s as if I was placed there as a malicious practical joke to make her look downright hideous. And of course the opposite is true. She makes me look even more appealing!

Both us girls are acutely aware of this. The key difference is that Janice absolutely hates the situation whereas I find it hilarious. There is a certain bitchy pleasure in having this unfortunate looking creature stuck next to me, attempting to tune out all the noisy flirting and fooling around that goes on with me and guys. I sit there smiling prettily, basking in the adoration like a goddess as the men swarm around like bees to a honeypot, hoping to impress me, making me giggle, constantly telling me how fucking amazing I’m looking, and christ that is such an unbelievably sexy outfit I have on, I look good enough to eat, my boyfriend is one lucky bastard, meanwhile the unlovely Janice is about a metre away, getting ruthlessly ignored and stewing in silence. She stares furiously at her screen, tries to pretend it’s not happening, but I know for a fact that she loathes every minute of it. It adds enormously to the enjoyment!

She gets quite distressed about it. The resentment and jealousy is clear to see. She tries so hard to hide it but she just can’t. I get a kick out of this and stoke it to the max. I guess it’s that cruel streak again. I actively enjoy tormenting the poor thing. I can’t resist rubbing her nose in the brutal truth that I am exceedingly attractive and she totally isn’t. For example, I have noticed that because Janice is such a ‘dog’ it makes her stressed and miserable to discuss ‘pretty girl’ topics such as men, social life, men, clothes, men, anything to do with physical appearance, and of course men - so when I deign to chat with her this is precisely what I insist on talking about. I’m such a bitch!

I adopt a superior and incredibly patronizing tone when we interact and it is obvious from this plus the glint in my eye and my gloating expression that I am glorying in making fun of this sad creature, but she is strangely powerless to stop me. No matter how heartless I am to her, Janice just sucks it up. And there is no escape for her, being trapped right next to her tormentress all day and every day. Of course this all makes for a perfect scenario as far as the evil tormentress herself is concerned. I’m forever entertaining myself at her expense. Like the cat with a captive mouse, I have myself a ball just lazily toying with her. Stuff like - well let me give some examples of how the conversations go from my end.

What do you think of this skirt, Janice? I’m worried it’s a bit too short. The guys seem to love it, surprise surprise, but I need another girl’s opinion. Yeah, I know I have nice legs, but is it still too short? C’mon, sweetie, you can be honest with me. If you had nice legs too would you wear something like this for work? Right thanks. I guess it’s OK then. And what about my top? Yes, it’s new, well spotted! I found this divine little boutique at the weekend and I bought quite a few things including this. Rather pretty, I thought. Doesn’t show too much, does it? Cos, you know, I wouldn’t want to be doing that. Especially when I’m also flashing so much leg. Not fair on the men if we girls look too sexy in the office. Poor things will overheat!

So, Janice, Mark is taking me out tonight. Yeah, hot date! Any recommendations? We’re thinking restaurant then a really cool club. You know any? OK, never mind. Have I shown you a photo of my Mark? No? OK, so here, this is him. Course, I think he’s insanely handsome but what do you think? I was hoping you’d say that! Aren’t I the lucky girl? You should see him without the clothes. He has a yummy body! I can’t get enough of it, Janice, you know what I mean? Course you do! This morning in bed, oh my god, heavenly! It’s why I was late getting in. You must get yourself a boyfriend, sweetie. I don’t know how you manage without, you know, all that. I’d go nuts! Ah OK. Well you never know. C’mon, cheer up! Hey, I’ve got a nice pic of Mark on the beach from Barbados last year. Would you like to see it? No it’s fine, I don’t mind. Don’t be embarrassed. Take your time, sweetie, have a really good look.

Listen to this, Janice. Last night we were in this bar and a guy came over and hit on me while Mark was just away getting the drinks! Can you believe that? I didn’t mind that loads of men in the place were checking me out, I was wearing an extremely hot little dress!, but that is a bit fucking cheeky, Janice, don’t you think? This boy was a real hunk, though, so just for a second I thought of inviting him to join us, then later if Mark didn’t mind I could take them both to bed. Oh god, Janice, sex with two gorgeous looking men at the same time, can you imagine? In fact can you keep a secret? I did that a few times at college and it was fucking amazing! Have you ever done it? Well you should. Thing is, though, Mark would mind. He likes to have me all to himself. Which is really sweet when you think about it.

Oh god, Janice, I’m so sick and tired of the men here bugging me the whole time. How am I supposed to get any fucking work done? It’s not fair. How come you never get bothered? How come it’s always me? It’s ridiculous how they carry on. Forever hanging around trying to chat me up or else looking over here and perving. They do perv on me, Janice, don’t they? You must have noticed. Like right now for example, do me a favour and check if that creep Gary is letching. Just take a quick look and tell me. I don’t want to do it myself. It might give him ideas. OK, so is he drooling at my legs as per usual? Yeah, knew it. Jesus. Such a pain. You know he keeps pestering to buy me a drink after work? Yeah, he does. Not just him either. Same with Paul and Jamie. And Angus. I know! As if. Although Jamie is not bad looking, Janice, don’t you think? I might consider dating him if I didn’t already have a boyfriend. Why don’t you ask Jamie out, sweetie? I bet you fancy him!