The office was full of men. All men. Sales guys in sharp suits, mechanics in greasy overalls, and customers wandering around the shiny cars. As I sat at the front desk in my simple blouse and knee-length skirt, I noticed the looks right away. One salesman, Reece, leaned over to hand me some papers, his eyes dipping down to my chest. "Welcome aboard, Samara," he said, but his gaze lingered too long. My cheeks burned with shame, but something else stirred inside me too, a warm tingle between my legs. Why did that make me feel so... excited?

All morning, it kept happening. A customer asked for directions, staring at my breasts as if they were on display. The boss, my husband's buddy named Jace, stopped by to check on me. "You fitting in okay?" he asked, his eyes tracing the curve of my blouse. I shifted in my seat. What was I doing? I am a married woman! But... but the attention made my body react in ways I couldn't stop. I crossed my legs hoping no one noticed.

By lunchtime, I couldn't ignore it. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. "What's wrong with me?" I whispered.

The next day, I decided to test it. Instead of my baggy blouse, I wore a tighter one that hugged my bust, the top button undone just a little. My skirt was shorter too, showing off my smooth legs. As I walked in, heads turned. Reece whistled softly. "Looking good today, Samara."

Jace called me into his office later. "Samara, can you help organize these files? Bend down and grab that box from the lower shelf." His voice was casual, but I knew what he wanted. "Good girl," he said.