If there was one thing I could count on, it was MikeyD bringing in the ultimate in eye-candy.  And it wasn't just his keen sight for neck-up beauty, but his penchant for finding the ultimate hourglass figure in a dress or lingerie.  I openly had a bias towards natural women, but Mikey could bring that sultry-sexy brunette in with an enhanced form I would not deny myself.  And despite people thinking he was just into 'big tits,' he was definitely a top connoisseur of a body that make the breast far more than the opposite. 

But every now and then, Mikey would point me to all natural, real beauty that would best any woman I could refer prior.  And I would have to bow down to his far superior eye and lust.  Mikey picked most of our Administrative Assistants, usually young, perky, often enhanced, but had bodies and hourglass figures that were absolutely more beautiful to MikeyD and I than allgedly 'Perfect 10' women.  But not in a thousand days did I believe Mikey would score one hell of an Executive Assistant who I expected to not only be mature and 'experienced,' but all-natural too.

As my eyes were looking at the reception desk before me, her voice rang out, "Yes, Gentleman ..."

My eyes rose up and as she finished, "I've come to be check on your posting for an executive assistant," I committed the most direct form of sexual harrassment.  I drew my eyes up slowly, even if it only took a few seconds, through her heels, calves, thighs, hips and then blooming bust that was deep with tight, ripe cleavage, and then topped with a broad shouldered blonde.  She was a slightly widened, top heavy apple in shape, and almost a sandy-barbie looker to boot, so I figured MikeyD could have nothing to do with her showing up at our office.  She slightly braced herself against the nearest chair, andput her other hand on her left hip in a relaxed position, her open top taking up half of my view.

I have always prided myself on being professional at all times with women, keeping my eyes neck-up, and not looking at their body.  After all, every woman deserves the right to be solely considered for her professional capabilities, and nothing by means of physical looks, or anything beyond that.  But in becoming a middle aged man, I joined MikeyD in deciding to not hold back any further, and starting a business where every woman consented, and even wanted to be here.  And in walked a woman that I wanted to consent, but I had not secured it.  In my years of having women who let me lust, I had slipped with a woman who had not yet given it to me

Then to my surprise, she rolled with it, "Oh thank you."  She had answered my eyes with her lips, then redirected again.  "I mean ... I do try to keep myself up."

I was so focused on my own inflection, that I utterly missed MikeyD at the doorway behind me, almost laughing at my most discomforting moment.  Once I found out later, I'd have to get him back, two-fold.  But for now, my focus was on my self-awareness, and the impossible woman who was now before me.

She immediately made it worse by putting her left hand behind her head, and leaning slightly forward, "Is this dress too revealing?"

In my rare moment of silence, Mikey continued to enjoy my fumbling about.  She moved yet again, to bring her right arm to the back of her head, making her breasts press out and forward into my view.  I couldn't keep my eyes averted, and I had to head back into her cleaveage, before she had even signed the consent form understanding the full "duties" that goes along with the position, a position we only wanted to fill with women who knew beforehand what they were getting into.

And then I said something Mikey would never let me live down for weeks later, "We were looking for a woman who looks a bit more ... umm ... mature, for this position."  That cleaveage was the dead giveaway, she couldn't be beyond her 20s with that tight of a rack, unless it was a fake rack, and I wanted an all natural-beauty for an executive assistant.  Then I put my foot in my mouth again, "You're obviously a little too tight ... I mean ... inexperienced"

The woman just would not quit, brought her hands down to her crotch, leaned forward even more and mouthed off, "So you dont mind me showing some cleavage?"

Once she was direct overt about them, I finally found the ability to bring my eyes up to hers completely.  Now I was back in control, and decided to see where my suspecious about her age or natural rack would take me.  "Well," I swallowed hard,"if it is to prove you're not in your 20s ... you're not doing well in the interview as of yet"

"I need to sit down," she moved into a more relaxing position.

"No no no...," she responded as she sat on the edge of the chair, "I'm not in my 20's."  The position might have been more relaxing for her, but it was far worse than before for me.

If I was looking for a woman experienced at enticement and seduction, she was it.  She put her tight thighs and ass up on the chair's arm, turned her body just perfectly so I could see right into not just her V, but into that bra itself.  She braced herself slightly with her right arm, a perfect triangle, and struck a model's pose.

No, she wasn't in her 20s.  She had clearly done this throughout her sexually prime years, and perfected it.  She knew how to smile, she knew how to entice, and her hands were a tad wrinkled, and her legs showed perfect age.  But what continued to kill me is how that top-heavy apple form had a tight ass, lowered hips and then fanned up big through her chest.  Yes, her chest was big, and then she had huge, heaving, hanging breasts down and around that bird chest.  Either she had the ultimate bra, the ultimate enhancement, or those mammary glands were all natural, and the stretch marks at the top were starting to suggest they very much were completely natural.

She turned slightly,  giving yet another pose, "I just like to dress ... uhhh ... professionally."  Even she could not say it with a straight face, and closed her mouth quickly before she grinned.

It was at this moment, she had me eternally.  Her dress around her stomach was enticing.  Her mole on her left cheek was the perfect beauty mark.  And that cleavage, it was too much.  So I forced the issue again.  "From our viewpoint ...," I glanced behind my left shoulder, almost hinting Mikey should 'assist' me in this interview, "Your body is way too pert to be mature.  We're looking for a mature, experienced Executive Assistant."

She now moved into the chair, and I walked in front of it, to looker her side on, "Does it not fit the image we are trying to sell here at the mansion?"

She gave it away.  She used 'mansion,' so she obviously knew this was more than a building of business, and 'we,' as if already part of the team.  There was still no way it could have been Mikey.  There's no way he'd find a top-heavy apple blonde, who was seemingly natural, slightly thickened but toned, like this.  It must have been one of the assistants who planned this little 'impromptu interview' at lunch.  As I would find out later, I could not have been so mistaken.

And that body!  Oh, she was my ideal apple form, that great bend through her back down her limited, but still succulent ass.  Her front was a steep drop-off from her rack, flat down through her belly, and almost 'diving' into her crotch.  Her thighs merged into her hips and around her ass.  If she was taller, she'd be more of a hourglass.  But stocky, she was compressed into a massive chest with huge hangers, and a more tightly controlled lower body.

She quickly realized I was far more than a bust man, despite my rapport, "I have tight toned legs.  I do try my best to stay in shape."

Whether this was a setup or not, it didn't matter.  She had crossed enough of a line with me, on-camera no less for evidence and clearly disclosed on the door she entered, that it was time to see how far this went beyond innuendo.  "Well ...," I did my best to show how much I was impressed, but not yet 'enough' yet."  "If you are 'mature' enough for the position, but you still have the body of a young woman ...," I tried to phrase it without being too overt. "We'd need to verify you have the softnes--," caught myself, "Soft-touch ... desired."

At first, she didn't say anything.  So I kept up the sell, containing as much vulgarity as I could, but making it clear what she was getting herself into, "We offer a sybian exercise program for our lovely ladies to stay 'in shape' ... on their own."  I smiled, as if a salesman looking to 'close the deal.'  "At least when they're not 'toning' their bodies at work."

Then to my initial horror, her left hand clasp the chair hard, and she got a sterm look, "Verify?!"

I thought I had made a terrible mistake, and taken the innuendo to a level she did not appreciate.

Her toned arms pushed herself up and into the chair.  As she relaxed down, her sterm look was still almost seemingly angry, or at least intent on making a point in return.  "Verify?!"  Then what I initially thought was just extreme disappointment or anger quickly exposed itself as absolute sexual tention, "Hmmmm ...," she said in a more suggstive tone, as her body took the same.

Before I could respond, she made it clear where she was coming from, "How about this?"

I'd see women take their hands to their plunge V and drop it below their bra, many had to hold the dress at bay in their hands.  But despite her wide, full, oversized bosoms, especially on her top-heavy apple frame, she removed her hands, and her dress stayed below her huge rack.  I had seen a lot of breasts in my time, in and out of bras, and the way her breasts didn't just jiggle, but actually had 'waves' of movement through them, she wasn't just all-natural.  She was soft.

I immediately looked over to Mikey on my left, who had walked towards the chair earlier.  Still looking him, I responded to her, "We would need to use a probe to verify the softness of your breas--."  I stopped myself, and then looked redirectly in her eyes.  "Softness of your touch ... for this position."

She didn't meet my eyes at first.  She was staring at my buldging crotch.  Then she stared at Mikey's, before returning her eyes to mine.  Mikey was as hard as me, and I saw him all over her rack.  I, however, was infactuated with her lower body just as much for the rest of this 'interview.'

Just like a tapered shotglass, a toned, top-heavy apple should be as much about reaching all the way to the bottom, as taking what is spilling out of the top.

To be continued ...