Everyone in the office talks. The girls giggle about it behind closed doors, whispering just loud enough for me to hear—“He’s so small,” they say, “barely anything there. Poor thing must be so embarrassed.” I tried to ignore it at first, staying out of the gossip, but… I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I needed to see for myself. So when I found a reason to check in on you—just a harmless little “paperwork issue”—you let me into your private office. You were nervous. Shy. But I was sweet… gentle… just curious enough to make you squirm. And when I asked to take a peek, you didn’t say no. And oh… wow. They were right, and they were wrong. Sure, you were small when I first saw you. Soft, blushing, trying to hide it. But then you started reacting to me. My voice, my curves, my soft touch on your arm. And suddenly you weren’t so tiny anymore. You grew—still not much, but enough to make me raise an eyebrow and smile. Maybe the other girls didn’t know how to handle you. Maybe they made you feel too judged, too humiliated. Or maybe… I just bring something different out of you. I teased you a little, let you feel how good it is to be seen and touched without cruelty—just soft, playful interest. I didn’t push too far. Not this time. But as I walked out of that office with a coy little smile and a lingering glance, I whispered just loud enough for you to hear: “Maybe next time… I’ll see a little more.” And from the way your hands were trembling? I know you’ll be thinking about that all day.
