GITJ Tangent Thread: Seeking Approval, p6

The rest of Sam Packer’s week, in his first stint as lead inspector at Evolution Pharmaceutical’s Headquarters, investigating for final approval of their new OTC product, was not nearly as exciting as his first day. Yes, he was greeted every morning by the super-pretty receptionists at the front desk. Sure, he was escorted back to the conference room that had been reappointed as his makeshift office by an always-new, always-gorgeous amazon in a security uniform. And, indeed, he was always warmly welcomed by the tall-and-slim-and-busty Ashleigh, who invariably was already hard at work in the files at the conference room table, no matter how early he arrived. Once in a while Rina would even come in with coffee, maybe lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, checking in on his progress. He had met a few new people, like the woman who was going to be directing the clinical study at the outside site he’d heard about, where Bianca was headed. Her name, if he remembered, was Gianna, though he couldn’t now be sure (and he’d always been so good with names!) The cleavage had been very distracting. But all-in-all there was not nearly as much excitement as his first day, what with being ego-squashed by the giantess Dinara and seeing Uber-hottie Bianca work out in her underwear. Only Ashleigh’s daily, flirty friendliness seemed to bring him any real excitement, besides the work.

And, wow, was there ever work! Paperwork! Tons of it! Not that he was complaining, because it was an honor to have been picked by Director Arro-...by Mercedes...for this assignment. But Sam barely left the conference room. Well, he did get out, on Wednesday morning, to look at and inspect the (modest) production lines and take product samples, which he’d sent back to Maryland for analysis. But since then it’d been papers, papers and more papers, all sitting here at this table with Ashleigh. At least he had her...and those tits.

Goddangit he didn’t want to be caught as a creep but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off them. He and Ashleigh were basically together all day, every day, and though they were getting friendly, getting to know one another as people do when they’re working side-by-side for hours upon hours at a time, he simply never got tired of stealing glances, whenever he could, of her frankly ginormous knockers. Ashleigh was tall, but she was otherwise a pretty slender girl, and he was every day astounded by just how big her breasts were, and how especially huge they looked on her thin frame. Sitting down the table from him, in profile, stretching out her blue polka-dot blouse on Tuesday. Squeezed tautly into another ribbed turtleneck sweater on Wednesday, this one a creamy white. Thursday was a stretchy black scoop-neck that just hugged every curve, and now today...woof. I swear to god she looks bigger every day, he thought, as his eyes settled on the full mass of her sideboob in the tight black long-sleeve blouse she was wearing.

He had to admit that, rather than just getting familiar, he had been getting more and more obsessed with them as the week went on. Just little hints of cleavage, like she was showing today (not like yesterday, that scoop neck, those white swells, the creamy jiggles, godddd…) were enthralling. Maybe it was the fact that he had basically no access to porn, what with having only his government-issued phone and laptop with him on the trip, and only had them to look at, to fantasize about. But there was something else, almost something in the air, that made him more and more attracted to Ashleigh every day, an attraction fixated on her tits. How does such a skinny girl grow such enormous melons? It got to the point where, ignominiously, he gathered the lurid courage to ask…

“So, uh, Ash,” he began, feeling himself flush in embarrassment already for the salacious motivation behind his question, “you took some of the Product. What did it do for you?” Thoughts of his ran back to the “before” pictures of Bianca, and brain-popping display of “after” results he witnessed jiggling and joggling on the treadmill this past Monday.

To that, Ashleigh looked up at him, up from the spreadsheet she was hunched over and highlighting two seats away, and smiled that big, slightly goofy smile he was starting to love. “Oh, my gosh! So much!” she began, pushing her tortoiseshell glasses back up her nose. He watched as, dramatically, she straightened her back and those gigantic hooters of hers began to stand out, threatening to pop each and every button of her crisp, over-matched blouse. His eyes...he had to keep his eyes from popping when she closed hers for the moment - which allowed him the second to gape as she raised her arms up, reached for the ceiling and strrrrrrretched.

Omigod I’m going to explode, he thought, outright staring at the dramatic display of her overdeveloped chest as she groaned in pleasure with the stretch.

“My grades got sooo much better!” she finally answered, opening her eyes again and just missing his leer. Sam's eyes were once again down at his work, giving her the chance to glance quickly up at the camera in the corner and give it a covert smile. She looked down at her chest, making sure all her buttons actually were still intact, and then again at him. “The Product?” she began again, “It really helped my focus and concentration and, like, memory. I mean, my grades were pretty good before but now I’m just, like, able to work and study soooo much longer and better and more effectively. It’s really great!”

“So, uh,” Sam started again, finding the courage to look up at her again, this time at the face-part, “nothing, like, physical?”

“You mean like Bianca? And her boobs?”  Ash answered plainly, “And, well, her legs and butt and hair and, like, everything…”

“uh, y-yeah…”

“Well, like we’ve been saying, the Product kinda helps you where you need it most,” Ashleigh continued, readjusting the earpod in her right ear, “and school is my big challenge, really. So that’s where most of my improvements showed.”

“huh okay well wow that’s cool…” said Sam, noncommittally positive but with an unmistakable hint of disappointment, “all, like, mental stuff…”

It was adorable, Ashleigh was thinking to herself, how nervous and bashful he was being, skirting around what he really wanted to ask. If he only actually knew how many cup sizes I’ve been through in the past six months, she thought, I think it’d melt his mind. His consternation filled her with a sudden mischief. “Well,” she spoke up, “there were a couple physical changes I noticed. Like, I always hated how many freckles I had on my chest…”

With that, she turned more straightly to him and, with both hands, pulled open the neckline of her blouse.

“But see?” she asked, displaying the stretch of creamy white, unblemished skin of her throat, collarbone and upper chest. The bulging swells of a bit of cleavage jiggled with her movements. “No freckles!” She watched his eyes linger just a bit long, and was only barely able to keep herself from giggling when he looked away; she loved teasing this guy so much.

Sam, for himself, could do nothing in that moment but imagine how big and smooth and white and softly, plushly perfect those breasts of hers must be, under her top. But he knew he had to say something gentlemanly, and not be a creep.

“Th-that’s cool…” he managed, too distracted by the show of skin to register the red flag waving right in front of him. He’d seen it before; it was kinda common for the Over-the-Counter products his division investigated to be mostly inert. Supplements with main ingredients similar to what Evolution was using with this one - mint, turmeric, saw palmetto, along with a bunch of Russian-sounding botanicals - tended to work, if at all, mainly on the placebo effect. Like “increased focus” or “better concentration”...those were hard metrics to measure, hard results to quantify. And Bianca, for example. For as dramatic as her changes have been, she had been by all accounts eating differently, working out, distributing weight to the right places. Who knows how much the supplement was actually helping her? Maybe a little. But Ashleigh’s skin changes? To a seasoned investigator, that would warrant a closer look at what was going on with this product. But not to Sam, distracted as he was by the jiggle and relaxed into a yielding passivity by the somnolent scent that seemed to fill the room wherever she was...

He watched as she sat back, smiling at him, eyes twinkling super-cutely. His heart fluttered; Ashleigh was kinda goofy, nerdy and dorky in her own way, but good god to him she was so hot. “So, uh, you’re here all day, you get here earlier than me, you stay later than me,” he inquired, the compliance form he was reviewing laying forgotten on the table in front of him, “When do you have time for school?”

”Oh, wow, haha yeah!” she answered, running her hands up into her big, thick mane of wavy red hair, “It’s a lot of work! Most nights I’m up ‘til the middle of night, three AM, studying, writing, watching lectures.” She shook out her hair, pulled a pencil out of it that she seemed surprised to find. “But I like it! I like the classes, I like being busy,” she continued, brows knitted, perplexed as she put the pencil down on the table, “It’ll all pay off in the end, I figure. Hoping I get a job here after graduation…” She pushed her glasses back up her nose, straightened her shoulders. “So, what do you do when you get home from here?” she asked, inquisitive, “Does it get boring in the hotel, all by yourself?”

“Uh….” Sam began, looking away and trying to think up a lie, “Well, it’s basically room service, movie and then I’m out.” He, of course, left out the part about jerking himself off to sleep, sometimes several times, with thoughts of her tits in his head. With no porn on his phone or computer, it was the best he had - and the erections came so easy. Sometimes he didn’t have time for the movie.

He swallowed, dryly, aware of her eyes on him. “We should, uh, maybe get back to work?” he finally said, “We still have so much to get through…”

It was true. Every time he got through a pile of paper, or Ashleigh emptied a box of files, it seemed like Rina would show up with two more to replace it. Sam felt he’d barely made a dent in the documents he needed to review for the investigation, and he’d been here nearly a whole week.

“Yeah you’re right,” Ashleigh agreed, nodding in committal, “let’s do it!”

Another few hours - or was it more? - passed, and Sam had been making pretty good progress in reviewing a buttload of quality control manifests, to the point he was able to push aside the final boxes of them into his “done” pile. It was getting late, almost 7 PM and most of the place had headed home for the night. But he still had a little bit left in him before packing it in for the weekend and next up was a box that seemed marked up a little different than the rest, not in Rina’s handwriting, hidden behind the others - and it didn’t feel too heavy. Ashleigh was out at the ladies’ room, so he didn’t get the chance to ask her where it’d come from, so he just plugged along and hoisted it onto the table to investigate. Only half full, with yellowed folders littered with post-it notes in more strange handwriting. At least those were in English, because most of the contents were in languages he didn’t understand. He began thumbing through, trying to make heads or tails of what he was looking at, and sat down again at the table. Spreadsheets, photos, letters of correspondence. All of it gobbly-dee-gook but much of it stamped with big red “классифицированный”. His translating app quickly told him that was “classified”, and he was about to set it loose on more of the first folder’s contents when Ashleigh stepped in.

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, sounding maybe a bit breathless, like she’d just jogged down the hall and into the room.

“I dunno, exactly,” he replied, brows knitted quizzically as he held up a transparency to the light, some sort of technical blueprint, maybe a medical device, “Can you read Russian?”

“Haha Russian? Why?” Ashleigh asked, stepping around the table to stand next to him, looking up at the transparency herself. This is not good, she thought, and was being told as much through the earpod in her right ear. She hoped he couldn’t see how nervous she was.

“Well, I came across this box, and everything’s in Russian, I think…” he continued, putting the transparency down and picking up another set of papers. “I mean, I can recognize a few things. Like, these letters are on the letterhead of “Gray Global Enterprises”, which looks like some sort of U.S. shipping company on the West Coast. And they mention Greg Gray...wasn’t he the billionaire that disappeared, a few years ago? Its owner, or whatever, obviously. But they’re all in what looks like Russian…”

“Huh, well,” Ashleigh stammered, pulling up closer alongside Sam, getting in between him and the rest of the opened box laying a couple feet away on the table, “o-our partner company has some facilities in Russia, maybe some of their paperwork got mixed up in our-”

“And, whoah, who’s this?” Sam suddenly interjected, pulling out a stained, glossy photograph of a woman, standing stock-straight in front of a height chart not unlike he’d seen earlier this week, during Bianca’s clinical lab exam. If anything, this woman - tall, raven haired, powerfully curvy and gorgeous - had a body that rivaled if not outmatched the redhead’s. “Milenka Kovalenko, Case 4533a” was the only identifying information he could decipher; the rest was in Russian.

“Oh, wow, yeah,” Ashleigh countered, pushing the folders he’d laid out on the table aside, as far away from him as she could, “this is obviously for some studies of our, uh, overseas partners. She tapped her earpod, turning it off, knowing what she was being told to do. She glanced up at the camera and took the photo from him. “Let’s forget this stuff...maybe we can look at it on Monday,” she said, drawing a deep breath and nestling in even a bit closer, “it’s getting late. Everyone’s pretty much gone, but I’m not tired, are you?” It was just registering with Sam, how since she’d come back in the room, her usual casual flirtiness had been replaced by a new, more intense focus.

Interest piqued, and nethers suddenly perking up in response to the scent of Ashleigh’s perfume, Sam looked at her. She was smiling at him, slightly taller, and her eyes glittered with a mischief he hadn’t seen all week. “Oh, uh, no, not really…” he answered, seeing the portent in those eyes. It was Friday night, they were young, and they were alone.

“Well, wanna see something fun?” she asked, biting her lip as the plans fell together in her head…

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Written on commission