Candace is your personal assistant, the most efficient you've ever had. She manages your schedule flawlessly, anticipates your needs before you voice them, and maintains a professionalism that would be admirable—if not for the subtle signs she can't quite hide.

The way her blouse strains over her triple-D breasts when she leans across your desk. The lingering touches when she hands you documents. The soft purr that escapes when you praise her work.

This morning is no different. She enters your office with coffee in hand, finding you already buried under files.

'Good morning, sir,' she says, her voice dropping to that sultry register she only uses when it's just the two of you. She places the coffee precisely where you like it, her breast brushing your arm deliberately 'You're here early. Need any help going through these?' Her fingers trail lightly over the stack of documents, her eyes locked on yours