From: Tommy@f26.n340.z1.fidonet.org
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: THC Adult Text Archive: AL&MARY.TXT
Date: 29 Jun 95 14:35:50 GMT
Organization: University of California, Berkeley
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The THC Adult Text Archive: AL&MARY.TXT (2315 lines)
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I'm a freelance consultant in the area of computer software
development. Call me Al. I normally work for large
corporations on a contract basis for a few months per stint. I
recently moved to New York from the San Francisco area, and
since I was starting in a new city where I had no business
contacts, I was forced make use of contract placement
companies, also known as "headhunter agencies". These are
middlemen who try to get contracts for people like me in return
for a cut of the money. They way this works is that after the
agency gets me a interview that results in a job, I sign up as
an employee of the agency, who then bills me out at a higher
rate to the company where I actually work. It's a sleazy
business, but without more contacts here I have to work this
way.
I got my current contract through a smallish agency. While
working on this contract, another agency called me about
another position that was somewhat more lucrative. After
interviewing at the new company, I was offered a contract.
Now, my existing contract was a typical one in that it was
open-ended and could be terminated by either party with
two-weeks' notice, so, barring any major pay raise from my
current job, I planned to quit my old job and accept the new
one. In keeping with my usual policy in these cases, I told
the new company I'd sleep on the decision and get back to them
the next day.
I then left and called the headhunter agency that currently
represented me to inform them that I probably was going to take
the other job. The headhunter there tried to persuade me to
stay at my current position. My early termination would mean a
loss of revenue for the agency, so her reaction was
predictable.
However, I told her that barring an increase in my billing
rate, I was going to take the new job. With that she put me on
hold, and when she came back, she explained that the agency
couldn't get any more money from the company I was working at,
but that Rachael, the owner of the agency, would be willing to
take less of a markup and give me a raise rather than lose the
contract altogether. When I asked how much of a markup, the
headhunter said that Rachael wanted to discuss that with me
personally. When I explained that I was going to make my
decision by early the next day, the headhunter put me on hold
again and when she got back on she said that Rachael would be
glad to talk to me later that day, if I could make it after
work.
I was willing to do that, and so we set up the meeting between
Rachael and me 6:00 PM that evening. Although I'd never
actually met Rachael, I had spoken to her on the phone a few
times and remembered her as being businesslike, professional,
and most important, reasonable. I was hoping I could get
enough money out of her to make it worth my while to stay at
this job, since the new position, though more lucrative, was
less interesting. I would never admit that to Rachael, of
course.
It was Friday evening, and by the time I was able to show up at
the agency the door was locked and everyone who worked there
was gone except Mary the receptionist who let me in when I
knocked and, presumably, Rachael.
Now, I was familiar with Mary from all the times I had come by
to pick up my paycheck. She was in her early twenties and
quite attractive, with shoulder-length, stylish blonde hair and
a very sexy, slim body. She was about 5 foot 2 or 3 and had
firm, perfectly sized breasts -- not too large and not too
small. She was outgoing and flirtatious, and every time I saw
her she was wearing very stylish and somewhat revealing
clothes.
That day she was wearing a silky, button-down blouse with the
neckline open low enough to show off a hint of her gorgeous
cleavage. Her bra was either quite sheer or non-existent, as I
could make out the contours of her breasts and nipples through
her blouse. She had on a calf-length skirt with a slit halfway
up her thigh. It was really tight around her hips and ass and
was thin enough for me to faintly glimpse her skimpy, dark
bikini panties underneath. She had on a pair of high heels
and, as always, wore little or no makeup. She looked even
sexier than usual, which is saying a lot. As I often did, I
wondered how she got away dressing that way in an office
environment.
Mary buzzed Rachael to tell her I had arrived, and when she got
off the phone she said that Rachael was on an important phone
call hoped it would be OK for me to wait 20 or 30 minutes. I
said it was, and Mary said that Rachael wanted me to know that
she really appreciated me coming by and told Mary to do
whatever she could to make me comfortable.
She asked if I wanted coffee or soda or anything, but I thanked
her and said I really didn't need anything. She smiled and
raised an eyebrow when I said that. I ignored that and told
her that since it was late she didn't have to stay on my
account. She thanked me quite nicely but said that she had to
stay late anyway and work. I made a sympathetic comment about
Mary's bad luck at having to work late on a Friday, and this
led to us making small talk for a few minutes.
On previous visits I often found myself staring at her sexy
body. I'd always try to be discreet, but sometimes she would
still catch me staring, to which she'd react with a coquettish
smile. As we sat there chatting she once again caught me
staring at her, but this time she raised her eyebrows, licked
her lips, and languidly turned towards me, slowly pushing her
chest out as she did. Although her movements were subtle and
ambiguous enough for her to deny if confronted, this was still
more flirty than she ever was with me in the past, and I choked
on my words for a moment in surprise and arousal. She just
laughed sexily and then resumed talking to me as if nothing had
happened.
Now, this both turned me on and made me nervous, and I tried to
hide my confusion and arousal as we spoke. I doubt I did a
very good job of it, but if she noticed, she didn't let on.
After a few minutes of our idle chatter I had more or less
calmed down again. Mary finally gave me a fake-sad look and
said in a deliberately childish, pouty tone of voice that she
had to get back to work. As she walked back to her desk, I
could see her perfect ass straining sexily against the material
of her tight skirt as she unabashedly swayed her hips. I'd
never seen her do that in my presence before, either, but then
again, I couldn't remember if I had ever seen her doing
anything other than sitting at her desk.
Dismissing her sexy antics as insincere, immature flirtation, I
plopped down on the couch in the reception area to find
something to read. This didn't prevent me from continuing to
stare at her ass until she sat down, however. The exagerated
way she moved her hips was turning me on, and I decided to
enjoy it while I could -- i.e., while her back was turned.
Despite my intention to not take Mary too seriously, I couldn't
help but wonder if perhaps she was trying to get my sexual
attention. For a moment, my mind drifted off into a fantasy of
her slowly stripping for me as I watched from my vantage point
on the couch.
But then I sobered up and reminded myself that she probably had
dozens of boyfriends and there was no way she'd ever consider a
37-year-old, slightly flabby, balding guy like me. I thought
back to what life was like when I was her age, and I had to
admit to myself that I'm too shy and nervous around women to
ever have stood a chance with someone like her even back then.
A woman as attractive as her could easily afford to be as picky
as she wanted, and I'm sure she'd have no time for my
insecurities and shyness. I sighed and forced myself to stop
thinking those grim thoughts and to just enjoy her flirting and
her sexy body while I had the chance.
And I was getting ample opportunity for that right then. I
guess she didn't have to man the phones after hours, and
instead of sitting at the recetionist's desk she was working at
one of the headhunters' desks typing on the word processor.
From my seat in the reception area I had a really nice view of
her profile as she sat there and worked. I took advantage of
the view whenever I thought she wasn't looking.
Although she was quite a sight, I didn't want to appear too
lecherous by just staring, so I looked around among the
magazines nearby and tried to find something worth reading.
The pickings were rather disappointing, and I was trying to
figure out which of "Business Week" and "Forbes" would be less
boring, when suddenly Mary piped in with, "If you want
something more interesting you can read my 'Cosmopolitan'".
I laughed and said, "I'm not sure if that would be an
improvement over this shit."
She gave me another of her flirty looks and replied, "Oh, c'mon
now, Al. Do you mean to say that you'd rather read about the
stock market than to look at the sexy women in Cosmo?"
Her comment caught me off guard -- she sure was being flirty.
Covering up my surprise and embarrassment I answered, "Oh --
you mean in the ads? I must admit that I have a hard time
thinking of a woman as sexy when she's blatantly advertising
clothes or perfume -- or any product for that matter. It sort
of detracts from the whole thing, you know?"
I was proud of myself for hiding my surprise so well with my
somewhat glib, and actually quite honest reply, but my pride
was short lived, as Mary quickly flabbergasted me with her
reply: "Oh. I guess I know what you mean. So how about if I
go downstairs to the newsstand and get you a 'Penthouse'?
Those women aren't advertising anything ..." her smile became
devilish, "... and besides, they're naked. I think you'd like
that a lot better."
I felt a wave of arousal and surprise. Although she's a flirt
and a tease, this was a bit much even for her ... at least
compared to anything I'd seen her do in the past. The only
thing I managed to stammer was "Well ..." before she turned
towards me. She lifted her hands to her blouse as if she was
about to unbutton it, and she said, "Or do you prefer the real
thing? I'm not wearing a bra." She paused, raising her
eyebrows, and looked at me with an intensely serious and
provocative expression and with her hands poised ready to open
her blouse for me. She kept that pose and just stared at me as
wave of anxiety and arousal swept through me.
I was speechless and must have looked like an idiot with my
mouth hanging open. After a few seconds that seemed an
eternity, she slowly lowered her hands, and still staring at me
intently, she said, "I'll get you a 'Penthouse'," and got up.
I shook my head disbelievingly and stammered to her to sit back
down, but before I could stop her she had sashayed out the
door, her hips swinging even more blatantly and seductively
than before.
I was dumbfounded. What was going on? Why was she acting this
way? Mary was getting me sexually excited, but I was also
getting nervous and scared. I'm quite insecure about sex and I
always feared beautiful women -- they always seemed to be so
confident and so sure of their abilities to get men to do what
they want. And I have always been especially vulnerable to
that sort of manipulation due to my sexual insecurities and low
self-esteem. What did she want, anyway? I couldn't imagine
she would want to be this sexual with me just for her own
pleasure, and I tried to figure out what might be her ulterior
motive.
Could it be that she was working in cahoots with Rachael and
was somehow trying to seduce me to stay with the agency? That
seemed likely, but I couldn't imagine what Mary would get out
of it. With Rachael, it was obvious: as the owner of the
company she would profit from my staying on and continuing to
generate her percentage of my take. But what about Mary and
her paltry receptionist's salary? Did Rachael offer Mary a
commission to persuade me to stay? If so, did she tell her to
use sex? Or did she just ask Mary to be charming and is this
all Mary's idea?
I figured it was likely that Mary _was_ doing this for the
agency for some sort of compensation -- probably monetary. I
got more than a little bit angry at Mary's manipulation, and I
decided to give her a piece of my mind when she came back, and
I started rehearsing what I was going to say to her. But as I
did, I began to have second thoughts. Mary had turned me on a
lot and part of me -- a _big_ part of me, I grudgingly admitted
to myself -- wanted more. I became quite scared as I realized
how much I wanted her to continue with her manipulative
seduction despite the fact that it may not necessarily be in my
best interests.
I kept trying to convince myself that I wasn't going to let her
get away with this, but my heart wasn't in it and I finally
gave up fighting myself. I decided to just let whatever
happens, happen. After all, even if I decided to stay on at
this agency for my current salary, I still was doing just fine
financially. And besides, I knew I wouldn't give up the new
job just for some cheap flirting -- Mary was going to have work
for her money. I at least had enough self-control to hold out
for that ... or at least I hoped so.
So I began to get excited about playing hard to get and seeing
how far Mary would go, and I tried to imagine what might
transpire once she returned. But then I had another thought:
what if she was just going to give me the magazine and then go
back to work? What if I was assuming too much about her?
Maybe she really _was_ trying to be friendly and that was it.
After all, Rachael _did_ tell her to make me comfortable, and
perhaps the flirting and the 'Penthouse' were simply a product
of Mary's overzealous desire to be helpful.
Or worse yet for me, what if Mary was indeed trying to seduce
me, but suppose she just gave me the magazine and then waited
for me to make the next move. Most men would catch the hint
and be all over her, but I'm so damn shy and insecure that I'd
never have enough guts to try anything with her -- even with a
lot of encouragement. Making a pass at a woman is the most
terrifying thing I can imagine. A psychologist would probably
say its a phobia with me, as is anything involving my being
sexually agressive and taking those kinds of risks. And so I
feared that if she wasn't extremely aggressive, and I thought
it quite unlikely that she would be, I would sit there like an
idiot like I usually do in these situations and blow the whole
thing.
So instead of being happy with anticipation and looking forward
to playing hard to get, my mood deteriorated to one of despair
and helplessness. This always seemed to happen with me when I
had a chance to make it with a woman, and I cursed myself for
being so neurotic.
I no longer wanted to be seduced. I felt so confused and out
of control that I didn't think I could resist her charms and
act in my own best interests any more. I feared succumbing to
whatever it was that she might offer me, and then agree with
Rachael to terms decidedly to my disadvantage. I felt naked
and scared. In the back of my mind I realized this was
illogical, but my fear was so strong and I felt so vulnerable
that I couldn't make logic prevail. In a state of near panic I
vowed to resist everything Mary might do.
Just then the door opened and Mary flounced back in. She made
a point of locking the door behind her and winking at me, and
then she plopped down on the couch next to me. She gave me a
lewd smile and started slowly reaching into a bag she had with
her. But before she got very far, I blurted out in panic,
"Wait, Mary, wait."
She stopped reaching for the bag and slowly lowered her hands
to her lap and gave me a questioning look. She stared at me
patiently while I struggled with myself. She didn't seem the
slightest bit upset or even surprised at my obvious anxiety.
Finally, under the pressure of her stare I started talking,
trying to get her to stop flirting with me: "OK, Mary, uh, look
..."
"Yeah?" she queried with a friendly smile.
I was getting more and more confused and panicked. All I had
to do was to become cool, thank her for the magazine, and then
ignore her. But that sort of thing takes composure and at
least some strength and confidence. I had none of those right
then, and so I just helplessly pleaded, "Like, uh, why, Mary?
Uh, why are you doing this?"
She looked innocently surprised and asked, "'Why'? I'm not
sure I know what you're asking. Why did I get you the
magazine?"
"Well, uh ... yeah ... I want to know that, but also ..." it
was hard to get to the point -- I didn't know how to say I
suspected her of trying to seduce me. What if I was wrong --
what a fool I'd feel like then. So I lamely continued my
question: "... I mean, why are you ... are you, you know ...
being this way with me?"
"Well first," she replied cheerfully and without hesitation, "I
got you the magazine because I thought you'd like it ..."
('Like hell!' I thought suspiciously. 'You got it to seduce
me. And cut out the fake innocence.' But I didn't have enough
guts to actually say anything like that to her) "... but I'm
still not sure about your other question," she was saying.
"Are you asking why I'm being nice to you?"
She seemed a little hurt, but I didn't believe it. I wanted to
say, "No. I'm asking why you're being such a slut with me.
Did Rachael put you up to it? How much is she giving you for
this?" But instead, all I could get up enough courage to say
was, "Well ... yeah ..." I was whining "... I mean, you've
never been this ... this nice to me before and ... and, well,
I'm a little surprised and ... and, well, I guess I'm just
wondering why."
Never missing a beat she replied, "I want you to enjoy
yourself, Al." She lowered her voice and gave me a provocative
look and continued, "I'm just trying to help."
I suddenly noticed that despite my panic and anger, she was
starting to turn me on. She looked so sexy there right in
front of me, and her flirty moves were having their effect.
But I forced myself to ignore that and snapped back
sarcastically, "Right. And this is just all out of your
altruistic love for your fellow man."
She was totally unfazed by my anger and her demeanor became
more serious, although no less provocative. She calmly
answered, "Not really. I'm not a self-sacrificing person and I
don't do things that aren't in my own best interest."
I had thought so! Her true nature just came through: tough and
self-serving. I no longer doubted she was in cahoots with
Rachael. "So what _is_ your interest here?" I snapped back.
"Surely it's not because you want ... you want ..." I started
choking on my words, because I couldn't bring myself to say
"want my body", even in the negative context I was trying to
use it. That's how deep my phobia about making sexual advances
is.
She kept her serious, provocative gaze on me and interrupted,
"It doesn't matter what I want -- what's important right now is
what _you_ want."
Damn it, she was a pro! I was ambivalent, caught between
wanting to get out of there and wanting to stay and get swept
up in Mary's apparent seduction. If we started focusing on
what _I_ want, she'd use my ambivalence to twist me around her
little finger.
I felt desperate to get off of the subject of what I want and
said, "But Mary, it _does_ matter what you want, because ..."
She interrupted again. "No, it doesn't matter. I'm _very_
capable of taking care of myself and of getting what I want.
You needn't be concerned about that. All you should think
about is what _you_ want ..."
I felt weak and powerless, and I didn't know what to do next.
I was actually trembling with fear and I'm sure she saw it. My
panic increased.
Mary had only paused a second and then went on, "... and I know
what you want, Al." She stared into my eyes for a moment and
she no doubt saw me weaken. I felt a wave of despair as she
said, "You want to see some pictures of naked women," and a
wave of sexual arousal went through me. Her expression told me
that she knew then that I would stay for anything she had to
dish out. So much for my vow to resist her.
She shifted her position on the couch next to me -- she got up
on her knees and then sat on her calves facing me. Her skirt
was bunched up a little bit and it rode up an inch or two above
her knees. She reached into the bag, bringing out a 'Club'
magazine and said, "I thought you'd like this better than
'Penthouse'." She tossed it on my lap, saying, "It's much
sexier."
I had to admit to myself that she knew what she was talking
about. I'd spent many an hour masturbating to the pictures and
pornographic stories in 'Club'. This masturbation of mine was
quite private and quite intense: I would get lost in hot
fantasies, sometimes for hours while teasing and stroking my
cock, balls, and body. I felt quite vulnerable and was
terrified at the prospect of her finding out how much I loved
to play with myself that way. I was glad Mary had tossed the
magazine on my lap, since I wanted to make sure she couldn't
see the hard-on that was beginning to rise in my pants.
On the cover of the magazine was a very sexy, shapely blonde
woman wearing only a G-string. Her palms covered the fronts of
her bare breasts, but only enough to hide her nipples and not
much more. The crotch of the G-string was a small, frilly,
black triangle that barely covered her pussy. This photo
turned me on quite a bit, and I made a mental note to get a
copy of this issue to take back home with me that night.
Speaking slowly, softly, and deliberately, Mary said, "She
turns you on, doesn't she?"
She startled me and I jumped in my seat. Reflexively I said
no, but Mary just looked at me like she knew I was lying. Her
gaze was strong and unwavering and I broke down and stammered,
"Well, yeah, I like her."
"So lets have a sexual fantasy with her, Al."
I was flabbergasted and I looked up at her with pleading
confusion in my eyes.
"Come on, Al," she shrugged with mock non-chalance, "it'll be
fun."
I was terrified. "Well ... I, uh ... I don't know ... maybe I
shouldn't ..."
She ignored my protests. "I love sexual fantasy," she said
cheerfully and with more wholesome-sounding naivete than I
could believe. "Come on, Al, let's have one now. Rachael
won't be done for at least 15 minutes."
"I don't know ... how can you be sure that she ..."
"I know, Al," she interrupted. "Rachael won't be free until at
least 6:30."
I noticed it was then 6:15. Mary's certainty about this
reinforced my suspicion that Rachael and she were in this
together. No doubt they arranged for me to be alone with Mary
until 6:30.
Despite these thoughts, I still found myself wanting to be
seduced. This scared me, as a part of me feared what I was
letting myself in for. The conflict was beginning to drive me
crazy. "I don't know, Mary," I sighed. "I mean ... it's nice
of you to offer ... _very_ nice of you, as a matter of fact
... it's just that ... well ... right here ... is ... it's so
... so public, and ... uh ..." I looked down and let my words
trail off. I was paralyzed with indecision and fear.
After letting me sit there like that for a moment, Mary
suddenly said, "Al ..." the fake wholesome sweetness was
completely gone from her voice and she spoke with strength and
more than a little sexual power.
I looked up and when our eyes met she continued "... I can tell
you like to have sexual fantasies when looking at magazines
like this ..."
I sighed defeatedly. I didn't want her to know that.
"... and I think you'd even like it better with me helping
you."
She waited for my reply, but all I did was sigh and gesture
helplessly. Finally, she went on, her voice low, sultry, and
almost threatening: "You want to ... much, much more than
you're letting on, Al. We both know you'd love it."
"Well ... I guess so," I murmurred.
"I _know_ so, Al." She paused, boring into me with her gaze.
I squirmed uncomfortably, but finally decided to acquiece to
her. What harm would there be in looking at the magazine, I
thought to myself as I hesitantly nodded my acceptance.
"So look at her, Al," Mary said, the matter now settled. She
pointed to the sexy woman on the cover of the magazine, still
on my lap. "I can tell you like her." Her manner was slow and
deliberate, and she never lowered her eyes from mine. "But
don't you want to see her naked?"
I smiled sheepishly and nodded. She saw my reaction but she
pretended not to have noticed it, and she continued, a bit more
insistently, "Wouldn't you like to see her naked breasts, Al?
Don't you want to see her nipples?" She emphasized the word
"nipples" and pushed her chest out slightly. The motion was
subtle, but she did it slowly without lowering her gaze from
mine, which made it impossible to ignore. I couldn't help but
lower my eyes to Mary's chest, and I then noticed that her
nipples were erect. I caught myself and quickly looked back
into her eyes, hoping in vain that she didn't see me gaze at
her breasts. But she was just staring at me with a knowing,
confident look that made me gasp.
I suddenly panicked and looked away, down at the magazine, back
at her, off into space, and back at her again. As soon as our
eyes finally met again, she said, always slowly and
deliberately, "And don't you want to see her pussy, Al?"
She paused, staring, and then continued, "Wouldn't you like to
look up between her legs and see her crotch -- her naked cunt?"
With those words Mary again made a slow, subtle motion, this
time shifting her weight slightly so that her legs spread apart
a little bit. I found myself looking towards her well-covered
crotch as her hemline rode up maybe a half inch higher on her
thighs. But I couldn't see up her skirt, much as I wanted to.
Again I went into a panic as I realized that she knew I was
staring. I was getting quite scared, but also rather aroused.
After our eyes met again, she said, always slowly and
deliberately, "I know you want to see her, Al. Here ..." she
picked up the magazine, revealing the bulge in my pants. She
made a point of looking down at it and then slowly raised her
intent gaze back to my eyes. She said nothing about my
erection, but her gestures were enough to let me know she was
aware of it. She continued, "... let me show you where she's
posing nude."
She thumbed through the magazine until she found what she was
looking for, and then she laid it back down on my lap. The
model was in a bedroom setting, totally naked, bending over the
top of the dresser with her ass pointed out at the camera.
There was a mirror behind the dresser which showed the model's
naked breasts. She was looking in the mirror right into the
camera with a nasty, lewd expression on her face. One of her
hands was on her ass cheek, pulling it open.
Never ceasing to speak slowly and deliberately, Mary said,
"Look at her nipples." She paused a moment and continued, "And
what an ass she has! Do you like her ass, Al?"
Mary looked at me, waiting for a reply. I was practically
paralyzed with terror, but I swallowed thickly and managed to
force myself to say, "Yes, I like ... it." I couldn't bring
myself to say the words "her ass".
"What a hot fantasy woman for you, Al! Imagine being there
with her ... staring at her naked body. She doesn't mind ...
she wants you to stare. She's posing for you ... right there
in front of you ... naked, spreading her ass for you. See how
she's looking at you? She knows how much she's turning you on.
She's telling you something, Al. Do you know what she's
saying?"
"Uh ... no, um ... I ... I, uh ..." I stammered, nearly unable
to speak but realizing that I was starting to enjoy what Mary
was doing to me -- in spite of my nervousness.
"She's telling you she wants you to take out that big, long
cock of yours and jack off for her."
I sighed nervously.
"She wants you to, Al. She knows how much you love to jack off
and she wants to help you. She does, Al. She wants to play
with her ass ... to fuck her asshole with her finger ... and
to look you deeply in the eyes and talk really dirty to you ...
to tell you what she's doing to her herself ... to tell you to
keep stroking that hot penis of yours."
Mary paused. I looked up at her, the beads of sweat starting
to drip down my forehead. She stared right through me. I
couldn't hold her gaze and I looked down at the picture and
then nervously around the room.
"Look at her, Al," Mary whispered throatily.
I looked back down at the picture, and she said, "I bet you
love jacking off to photos like this."
I gasped and went into a panic, stammering idiotic-sounding
denials: "No, uh ... not really ... I mean ... well, it's not
... I ..."
She softly but firmly interrupted me, just saying "Al" and
staring at me. I stopped my yammering and she continued, a bit
more deliberately and intensely, "You love how it feels to
squeeze and stroke your cock while looking at her, don't you,
Al?"
I started my protests again, but before I could say much she
cut me off: "Don't deny it, Al. I know you do." She stared at
me, waiting for a reply.
I sighed and tried to deny what she was saying, "Mary ... it's
not what you think ... really it isn't ... I mean, I guess I
sometimes ... well ... Mary, damnit, this is so difficult ...
don't you understand that ..."
She cut me off in mid sentence, ignoring everything I was
trying to say. "Your long penis feels so good when it hardens
in your hand, doesn't it, Al?"
Damn her! But I was paralyzed with fear. I hadn't wanted her
to know about my masturbation, and I felt totally demoralized
to see how much she was able to infer. All I could do was
stare at her with my mouth open, my semi-hard cock twitching
under the magazine on my lap. Despite my fear I was intensely
aroused and mesmerized by her.
She continued, slowly and deliberately, never lowering her gaze
from my eyes, "Yeah, you love feeling it get hard as you stroke
it. You tickle your balls with the fingers of your other hand.
You spread your legs wide and you thrust your hips in rhythm
... in rhythm to the way you squeeze your prick with your fist.
It's all covered with oil and you slide your hand up and down
your burning, hard shaft as you pump your wet, spurting cum all
over her ass."
I was trembling and nervously fidgeting under her gaze. After
a pause of a couple seconds she continued, "You love to do
that, Al, don't you?"
I looked down sheepishly. She quietly said, "Look at me, Al."
I looked back up into her eyes and she continued insistently,
but still slowly: "You love making sperm come out of your
penis, don't you?"
I murmurred, barely audibly, "Well, I ..."
She interrupted, even more insistently, "Yes you do, Al. You
love shooting it out all over the place. And you like to watch
your penis as your semen spurts out. You stare at that creamy,
white, thick sperm all over your penis, slowly, thickly oozing
down all over it. Your sweet penis gets so wet and slippery,
and you love playing with your sperm on you ... rubbing your
fingertips in it, smearing it into your soft, slippery penis."
Another slight pause. "You do that, don't you, Al?"
I was almost beyond resisting. She had me mesmerized and quite
aroused. I managed to feebly protest, "Well ... no ... but I
guess ... well, some of what you said, anyway, but ..."
"All of it," she corrected. "Every thing I described. Don't
deny it," she said over more of my protests. "You can hardly
wait to get home, open up the magazine to this picture, and
take out your cock and jack off -- just like I just described.
Don't deny it, Al. I know you can hardly stop thinking about
what your sperm is going to look and feel like all over your
dick when you make yourself cum."
"Mary, please ..." I protested feebly, the words choking in my
throat.
"It's OK, Al. I understand." She spoke more softly and
kindly. "Really, Al. Now listen to me."
She paused and I looked at her to hear what she had to say.
"You're embarrassed and scared of what I know about you," she
continued. "Most men don't like women to know that they like
to masturbate. They think it makes them less virile and macho.
Well, Al, I don't care about any of that. Whatever you like to
do to yourself is just fine with me, believe me."
I nodded, although I was quite skeptical. She went on, "So Al,
I understand how nervous you are that I know about your
masturbation, but I assure you I won't tell anyone. Not a
single person, Al. I promise."
She seemed sincere, but I didn't trust her. I'm sure my
skepticism showed on my face, because she continued, "No, Al.
Really. I really mean it. I give you my most solemn assurance
that I'll keep my word and never betray you." Her voice became
an intimate whisper: "It'll be our secret, Al -- our intimate,
totally private little secret."
She leaned forward and touched my arm. "I'm glad I know some
of your private pleasures, Al," she whispered. "It's so
special, so exciting to have someone with whom you can share
your forbidden secrets."
She moved really close and whispered very, very softly while
staring into my eyes. "Such sweet secrets, Al: all alone at
home, nude on your bed, your eyes closed, your penis all
covered with oil. It feels _so_ good to slide your fist up and
down your slippery, hard shaft ... ohhhhh, so _good_ ...
imagining that woman in the magazine ... that nude woman ...
standing over you ... making you jack off for her ... making
you pump out all your sperm ... such intimate, hot, _nasty_
secrets, Al."
All the while I was staring, dumbfounded. She put her arms
around my neck and said, "You love your sperm, Al," as she
slowly brought her lips to mine and kissed me long and deeply.
After she was finished she breathed, "Yeah, you _do_ love your
your sperm, Al ... and your penis. It's OK. Don't worry,
baby, it's our secret. Your sperm ..." she kissed me "... and
your _sweet_ penis ..." she kissed me again "... are our
private ..." another kiss "... intimate ..." and another "...
hot ..." and still another "... _nasty_ little secret."
With that she pushed me back down on the couch with her on top
of me, this time hotly embracing me and squirming on me as she
pushed her tongue down my throat and passionately kissed me for
at least a minute or two straight. At first I resisted,
however feebly, but soon I was tightly embracing her, fondling
her ass, and grinding my cock against her willing groin.
After I was drunk and dizzy with desire she stopped and got up
off of me. As I panted and slowly dragged myself up off my
back, I noticed that Mary seemed totally unfazed. She was
quite calm and collected as she said, "Take off your clothes
and masturbate for me, Al."
Still recovering my wits, all I could do was feebly grunt an
incoherent protest, which Mary brushed aside with, "I like
having a man jack off in front of me."
She gave me a slight leer and paused to let her words sink in.
I would willingly masturbate for her, but not here ... not with
Rachael around. I was almost started crying. "But Mary ..." I
stammered, choking on the words, "... please not here ... I'm
so ... I'm so ... well, I'm kinda scared and ..."
"You're more than 'kinda' scared, Al: you're terrified." I
swallowed and nodded. It was all I could do. She continued,
"I want you that way."
I looked up at her, surprised and pained. "It turns you on
when you're scared, Al," she went on, ignoring my pleading
gaze. "Being scared makes you _more_ turned on. Right?" I
looked down and mumbled that she was probably right. "Don't
deny it, Al. You _want_ this ..." she paused until I looked
up into her hard gaze and then she continued, "... you want
this very, _very_ badly, Al."
As she said that she put her hands on her breasts and slowly
lowered them down the sides of her body, her eyes boring
through me. "Feel the fear, Al," she said after her hands
reached her thighs. She got up on her knees and leaned a
little closer to me, saying, "Sex scares you, Al." She grasped
each of my shoulders and moved her face closer to mine. She
licked her lips lewdly and demonicly, and then said, breathing
huskily, "I want you terrified, Al." She cupped my cheeks in
her hands and moved still closer, licking her lips, breathing
heavy, moaning, and making facial expressions as if she was
fucking me or masturbating. I'd never seen anyone act so lewd
and intensely arousing. My cock was hard in my pants. She
then said, "So scared ... and so _hot_ Al! Feel the fear.
Feel how hot you are."
She continued for a few more moments with this and then said,
"I've barely gotten started, Al. This is just the beginning."
She sat back and looked down at my lap. My erect cock bulged
up in my pants. "And look how hard I've got you already."
She looked back into my eyes and said, "Take off your pants and
jack off for me."
I really didn't want to do it right there in the office with
Rachael in the next room. "But Mary," I pleaded. "Not here
... not with Rachael ..."
She interrupted, "Rachael won't come in. She'll buzz me on the
phone first. Don't worry. I meant it when I said I wouldn't
betray your secret. She'll call and I'll just tell her you're
in the bathroom ..." she paused for emphasis "... pissing."
She hissed out the word and then licked her lips.
She paused for a moment, staring, and then continued, "It
wouldn't be far from the truth, you know." Another pause. "I
mean ... if you _were_ in the bathroom, you'd be holding your
cock and watching your hot _piss_ stream out -- and that's what
you're going to be doing here, Al -- except it won't be piss,
of course."
She got up and went to the chair across from me and sat in it,
facing me. She said, just as slowly and deliberately as ever,
"Now masturbate for me." I still did nothing, and she
continued calmly, "I know you want to." A short pause.
"You've been staring at my breasts all night." Another pause.
"I'm going to play with them while you jack off." Always
staring into my eyes, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse and let
it hang open. She raised her hands to her breasts and slowly
began to caress and tease them.
"Touch your dick, Al," she said, but I still tried to protest.
"Tease it ... tickle it ... come on ... I know you love how it
feels in your hand. Don't you want to hold your penis, Al?
Look at my nipples -- all erect and hard like that hard meat of
yours. I know how sensitive your penis gets when its hard like
this. Come on, Al," she begged mockingly, still squeezing and
caressing her breasts as she stared into my eyes. "I know how
badly you want to slide your hand up and down that rigid prick
of yours ... milking pleasure into it ... milking the cum out
... _squeeeeezing_ it so good like you love to do."
I still was struggling between wanting to run away and hide and
taking out my cock and furiously stroking it for her, and I did
nothing. She stopped rubbing her breasts and said, "Maybe I
should show you how to do it, Al." She reached into her purse
and brought out a rubber, two-headed dildo. Its color,
texture, and look were quite lifelike, although it was at least
a foot long. She put it down next to her on the chair and then
unzipped her skirt about halfway up and opened it wide.
Never lowering her gaze from my eyes, she slowly spread her
legs, exposing her naked crotch, and she said, "I took my
panties off when I went out to get you your jack-off book, Al.
Look at my hairy cunt." I noticed that she wasn't a real
blonde, but it didn't matter. The sight of the dark pubic hair
covering her moist pussy really turned me on.
She picked up the dildo and held it out for me to see. "This
is _my_ penis," she said in her slow, deliberate manner.
"Watch me play with it." With that she grasped it around the
shaft with her two hands so that both of its heads were
visible. She slowly lowered it down her body, rubbing one of
the heads against her breasts and nipples, and then her
stomach, groin, and to her pussy. All this time she kept
intensely, seductively gazing into my eyes. I was mesmerized
by her.
She then positioned one of its heads between her legs, and
holding it completely still with the other head pointed out at
me, she pushed it inside of her by slowly grinding and gyrating
her hips. Keeping a firm grasp on it with both hands, she
began to fuck herself with it solely by moving her body -- not
the dildo. Never lowering her gaze from my eyes, she slowly
and deliberately bumped and grinded, the now moist end of the
dildo pushing rhythmically, hotly, and hypnotically in and out
of her grasping pussy. After a short while, she increased the
pace of her gyrations, but not too fast and still very
deliberately so as to maximize the effect she was having on me
as I watched her.
All the while she kept her eyes glued to mine, and I found it
more and more difficult to resist stroking my cock as I watched
her sexily writhe before me, the dildo sliding in and out of
her thrusting crotch. Soon she said, "Look at my cock, Al.
See it sliding in and out of my cunt." With that she lifted
herself up slightly so that only the head of was in her, and
she rotated her hips, making the dildo bend and squirm. She
said, "Oooooooh, _fuck_ me!" and sat back down so that the
dildo slid way up in her. She repeated that sequence a few
times, each time making me less and less able to resist
touching and squeezing my own cock.
Then, she stopped and let go of the end. About half of the
dildo was in her, leaving about 6 inches or so sticking out.
The lifelike dildo looked like a cock sticking out of her. She
just sat there for a minute so I could stare at her.
Then, she squirmed out of her blouse and stood up, unzipping
her skirt the rest of the way and tossing it on the chair
behind her. She was totally naked now except for her
high-heeled shoes and the end of the dildo sticking out of her.
"Look at my cock, Al," she said, reaching down with one hand
and lightly tickling the shaft and head of the dildo with her
fingers. "It's so sexy, isn't it?"
It indeed was, but as soon as I realized that, a wave of fear
shot through me: that penis-like thing turned me on, and I
suddenly worried about being gay. This homophobic fear had a
strange effect on me: it aroused me intensely -- much, much
more than I could sublimate or deny. The more I realized how
much I liked looking at that penis, the more aroused I became
in my fear. My cock grew rigid and pushed the front of my
pants out noticibly.
Mary seemed to be aware of the effect this was having on me.
"Look at my penis, Al," she said. She moved her hips from side
to side, causing the cock to shake, too. Watching it wiggle, I
felt a palpable surge pulsate through my penis and groin. I'd
never before experienced such a pronounced reaction in my penis
without touching it. It felt as if I could almost cum just
from watching Mary sexily making her penis-like thing move for
me. This homosexual response scared the hell out of me, and my
arousal grew with my anxiety.
"Let's touch our cocks together, Al," Mary was saying. "Come
on," she said with a seductive, mock-pleading tone, "Don't you
want to get nude with me and rub our penises together?"
I was beyond speech by this point. Besides, I'm sure Mary
intended it to be a rhetorical question.
"I want to touch the head of your dick with mine," she
continued. "Ohhhh, yeah -- so good, so hot -- right on the tip
where your sperm comes out ... yeah! Just sorta ... _push_
'em together ..." She moved her hips to illustrate how she was
going to push. Another spasm went through my penis and groin,
this time causing me to close my eyes and moan sharply with
pleasure.
"Oh _yeah_ Al," she panted seductively. "Feels so damn good
inside your dick, eh? Well this ain't nothin', Al. We've
barely gotten started."
I smiled weakly.
"Now get up and get nude," she demanded suddenly. "_Now_ Al!"
she ordered, when she saw that I was still hesitating. I was
no longer able to do anything but obey her. As I nervously
fumbled with my shoes, socks, pants, shirt and finally my
underwear, Mary was saying, "I want to rub the head of my cock
down your shaft ... yeah ... to your balls ... oh yeah, it
feels so good to rub our penises together ... I'll push my head
right there on the base of your cock ... right there where the
bottom of your penis meets your balls ... I'll rub it right
there, right where you first feel your cum flowing up the
inside of your dick ... push a little there ... then slide it
back up the underside of your penis to right under the rim ...
on the bottom there right where it meets your shaft ... and
push on it there a little, too ..."
She removed the dildo, turned it around, and put it back inside
of her with the heads reversed. The one that was previously in
her was now pointing at me -- I could see it shine with her
juices.
"It's all wet now, Al. My hot penis is all wet and slippery
for you ... so slippery against your dick, Al. Come on, damn
it!" she said insistently, "Hurry up and take off those
underpants and come over here," her voice was filled with
seductive, mock urgency. "I can't stand it any more -- hurry up
and let me rub my hot, wet dick against yours ... yeah ... so
slippery and throbbing ... oh hurry ... rub your cock on mine
... PLEASE!"
I was finally out of my clothes and I stumbled to her ... I was
dizzy with lust and couldn't stand well. "You're too tall for
me," she hissed, as she stood up on her toes and pretended to
be surprised that our penises still could barely touch. "My
dick won't reach yours, damnit! Lie down on the floor ... on
your back ... I want to kneel over you and rub _dicks_", lewdly
emphasizing the word "dicks" by leeringly licking her lips as
she hissed out the word.
I was on my back in a flash and she was soon straddling me on
all fours, her dildo poised right above my rigid, throbbing
penis. Lowering it down against mine, she did pretty much what
she said she would: first she pushed its head against mine and
bounced very, very slightly. The sensations made me gasp so
loudly it was almost a yell.
She then just started moving her hips from side to side,
causing the dildo to rub and glide against my penis. Our
shafts would meet and the slippery sensations drove me wild.
While she did this, she was rhythmically speaking in a low,
chanting, seductive whisper: "... ohhhhh ... rub it ... yeah
... so hot ... the shaft ... oh, oh! ... yeah ... slippery hot
penis against mine ... your big penis ... look at our penises,
Al ... yeah ... so hot ... makes you spasm ... yeah ... penis
spasm ... yeah ... such a long hard dick, Al ... rub our dicks
together ... please! ... oh, yeah ... you love dicks so much,
Al ... oh yeah ... my dick makes you so hot ... so long and
hard ... throbbing ..."
She then leaned down and rested her chest on mine, holding my
arms down with hers. But she was still kneeling, her ass up in
the air and her dildo still rubbing against my increasingly
aroused cock. Rubbing her breasts against my chest as well,
and looking me deep in the eye from just a few inches away, she
said with a mock pout, "Oh baby, my dick is getting dry." It
indeed was. "Make it wet for me, honey. Please! Please cum
on my dick." She moved so that the head of her dildo was at
the base of my cock and its shaft was against my balls. Slowly
sliding the head of her penis-thing up the length of my shaft,
she moaned, "I want your _sperm_ all over my big, long, huge,
throbbing DICK!"
Just as she said "DICK", the head of her dildo reached that
spot she described on the underside of my penis, right where
the shaft meets the rim. With that, I felt the first hot,
burning load of semen flowing up my penis and exploding out of
the head. As spasm after spasm of cum gushed out of me, Mary
kept lightly pushing and sliding her dildo all over my penis.
"Oh yeah!" she was panting in time with my spasms and moans.
"Gimme your sperm, Al. All over my hot dick. Yeah! Cum all
over my penis, Al. Ohhhh, so wet and hot. Yeah! More! Such
a hot penis ... such a turnon for you to see and feel my penis
all over yours ... oh yeah ... you love my penis ... you love
looking at it ... you love feeling it ... and you really love
cumming all over it ... oh, what a sweet penis boy you are!"
As I came, I closed my eyes, arched my back, and tried to push
my cock up against Mary's dildo. But she kept wiggling and
sliding it all over my penis, which teasingly kept me yearning
for more. Even after I was spent, I felt like I hadn't really
finished. I yearned to squeeze my cock in my fist and tightly
pump it to satisfaction as I was accustomed to doing when
masturbating, but Mary was leaning on my arms and I couldn't
move them.
After a while, I had drifted into a pleasant, post-orgasmic
daze. In the back of my mind I felt Mary get up off of me, but
I was half asleep and just lay there. As I sleepily reflected
on Mary's expert attentions, I noticed that every time I
pictured her with the penis-like dildo sticking out of her, I'd
become aware of a faraway feeling of arousal. I'd experience
the same feeling when visualizing my own cock. Somehow, Mary
had gotten me to be much more interested in and focused on
penises than I had ever been before.
I still had a homophobic reaction to all this, but I managed to
rationalize it away by telling myself that being turned on by
my _own_ penis isn't homosexual, nor is being turned on by a
woman with a fake penis.
"Don't fall asleep, Al."
Mary's voice startled me from my reverie. I shook myself awake
and looked up. She was holding her blouse in her hand and had
already put her skirt back on, and she stood over me, her naked
breasts hanging over my head.
She jiggled them and laughed slightly, as if thinking of a
private joke, and then asked, "How does your penis feel?"
I reflexively looked at it, noticing the semen all over it and
my groin. The sight of it sent another vague sensation of
arousal through me, and for a second I just stared at it. I
really liked looking at it. Suddenly, I remembered that Mary
had asked me a question. I quickly looked back up at her and
said, "Oh ... uh, wow! It feels _really_ good!"
Although I had only paused a second, Mary must have noticed my
reaction to seeing my cock, because she ignored my reply and
said, "See how much it turns you on now, Al? I doubt that the
sight of your penis ever got you _this_ hot before." She
paused and wiggled her breasts again. "And don't worry, Al,"
she continued. "This'll be our secret. Our hot, _nasty_
little secret."
As she spoke, Mary began to lightly rub and twist her nipples
with her fingers. I stared raptly at her as she did this.
"They'd feel really good on your balls ..." she continued, "...
and in your ass hole. I'd like to fuck you in the ass with my
nipple, Al."
As I kept staring, she silently continued to play with her
nipples above me until after a minute or so she suddenly
stopped and said, "Now you'd better get dressed. Rachael
should be off her phone call any minute now. Here," she said,
reaching into her purse and tossing me her panties, "wipe your
cum off of yourself with these."
I again snapped out of my reverie, dragged myself upright, and
wiped off my semen as best I could. She took the panties back
when I was done, saying with a wink, "I'll keep these for you,
Al. Later on we'll have some more fun with them."
"Uh, oh, OK," I mumbled absently and started dressing. I felt
exhausted and quite fuzzy-headed, and I became quite nervous
about my meeting with Rachael. I couldn't think clearly enough
to negotiate well, and I was extremely worried about the likely
possibility that Rachael put Mary up to her seduction of me. I
felt out of control and vulnerable.
Suddenly, Mary's statements sunk in a little: she seemed to be
saying that she had more in store for me. As I buttoned my
shirt and tied my tie, I asked, "Uh, Mary, uh -- you kind of
implied that ... that, well ... that there's more stuff we
could do ... I mean, I _think_ that's what it sounded like ..."
She was buttoning her blouse. "You want more?" she asked,
sounding cold and detached, but with a hint of invitation in
her voice -- a bit like a whore fishing for more business.
"Well ... yeah ... I, uh ... I mean, I'd _like_ to ... to maybe
do some more with you ... I mean ... I mean if you want to ...
uh, you seemed to imply that ..."
"Well, Al," she interrupted, somewhat more warmly but still
with unmistakable whorishness. "I'm sure we can work something
out ... under the right circumstances I'm willing to do a
whole lot more with you." She smiled and her voice became more
friendly. "But for now, hurry up and get dressed," she
continued. "We can discuss it later -- I'm not going anywhare.
You should go into the bathroom and clean up a little. I'll
tell Rachael you'll be right back if she calls. Now hurry ...
and unlock the door so you can get back in."
I was still too dazed to think very clearly, so I just followed
Mary's orders and went into the bathroom to wash up. Once
there, I noticed that I didn't look as dissheveled as I had
feared. My clothes had stayed pretty much unwrinkled because
I'd taken them off before getting down on the floor, and all I
had to do was wash my face and comb down my hair before I
looked more or less normal.
The cold water on my face helped to get me back to an
acceptable level of lucidity, and I was then able to reflect on
everything that had happened since I arrived. I began to fear
my meeting with Rachael -- if she and Mary were working
together on this, I reflected, who knows what she'd lay on me
in this meeting.
Actually, I had a way out -- I could just go home right then,
skipping out on the meeting. The thought was tempting, but not
as tempting as Mary, who had seemed to promise further sex with
me. Her whorish attitude led me to wonder if perhaps she was
some sort of hooker. I actually hoped she was, because I had
more confidence that I could get what I want from a woman if
its for money than for any other reason. The prospect of
somehow arranging more hot sex with Mary after my meeting with
Rachael was the only thing that kept me from running away.
Besides, I was feeling well enough to go through with the
negotiations -- or so I told myself as I walked back to the
office to face Rachael.
Back in the agency, Mary told me that Rachael was done and
would meet me in the conference room. She led through the main
office into a corridor, her hips swaying seductively as usual.
As I followed her, I pictured the conference room as one of
those that are typically found in small offices such as this
one: a room slightly larger than a large office with a table
and a few chairs, and perhaps an overhead projector or
something similar.
So I was quite surprised when Mary unlocked a door at the end
of the corridor and motioned me to follow her inside. The
conference room indeed had a table and chairs, and even an
overhead projector in a corner, but it was much bigger -- and
much plusher -- than I expected. It was more elegantly
decorated than any conference room I had ever seen, even in the
biggest of corporations. If it wasn't for the long table taking up
maybe half of the room, it would have looked more like a plush
living room in an expensive home than a conference room.
I gaped at the thick carpeting, the overstuffed chairs, the
lamps, the two large couches, the wide-screen TV, and
especially the bar against one wall.
"What's the matter?" Mary asked, a playful expression on her
face. "You don't approve?"
"No, not at all. Of course I approve," I replied. "I'm
actually quite impressed. I've never seen a conference room --
or anything in a corporate office -- quite like this. It's ...
it's ..."
"Elegant?" she offered.
"Quite so," I replied.
"Well, Rachael believes in treating her clients right." Mary
turned and winked at me, reinforcing my fears that she and
Rachael were in this thing together. "Now Rachael will be here
in a minute, so just sit down and make yourself comfortable."
She turned and started walking out.
"Uh, Mary," I called out. She turned seductively to face me as
she reached the door.
"Yeah?" she purred.
"Well, uh, I'd like to ... to talk to you about ... well, about
..." My voice trailed off as my shyness returned. I wanted to
discuss the possibility of further sexual adventures with her.
As usual, I found it nearly impossible to bring the subject up.
"Don't worry, Al," she interrupted, reassuringly. "I'm not
going anywhere, and we'll have plenty of time to talk. Now
just make yourself comfortable and Rachael will be right in."
With that she turned her back to me, pulled her skirt up,
wiggled her naked ass at me while winking over her shoulder,
and flounced out the door as her skirt fell back down.
Although I was sexually spent, at least for the moment, this
still was able to cause a faraway sexual reaction in me. I sat
down and took a few deep breaths. I didn't want to be
distracted during my negotiations with Rachael, and I wanted to
get them over with quickly and get back to Mary.
A minute later the door opened and in walked Rachael. Now,
even though I had spoken to her previously on the phone, I
wasn't prepared for how young she looked. From her demeanor
and the fact that she was the owner of this agency, I expected
someone maybe in her mid to late 40's, or possibly even older.
But Rachael looked around 35 or so -- and a very attractive 35
at that. She had medium-length, expensively styled red hair, a
sensuous and attractive face, was maybe 5'6" or 5'7", and had a
really nice figure. Her hips and bust were full, but neither
was too large, and I noticed she had really nice legs. She
wore an obviously expensive business suit, but one that showed
off her body to good advantage.
I stood up and we shook hands, and she said, "Well, Al. I'm
glad you could make it on such short notice. I really wanted
to have a chance to try to persuade you to stay with us."
I liked her forthrightness. "Well, I'm glad, too. Although
the new offer is a really good one, I like my current job ..."
thoughts of Mary went through my mind and I added, "... and I
especially like this agency. I'd like to try to work something
out so I could stay with you."
"Well, it looks like we have the same goals tonight," she said
as she motioned me to be seated. I sat back where I was
before: on the couch to the far right against the arm rest.
She chose the seat next to the couch that was facing at 90
degrees to it. This put her left leg about three inches from
my right one.
"But before we start, Al," she continued, "Let me tell you a
little bit about me and about my agency."
"OK," I replied cheerfully.
She told me how she built this agency up all by herself into
what it now is -- a $10 million a year agency that supplies
temporary office help and high-level consulting services to
major corporations. She's the sole owner of the company and
that there is no debt, and there was well-deserved pride in her
voice when she told me that.
I told her how impressed I was at how well she had done, and
she received the compliment graciously and seemingly gratefully
as well. With that, she sat back comfortably and gazed
pleasantly at me. I was a bit at a loss for words, so I just
looked around the room, trying not to let my nervousness show.
"So, do you like our conference room?" she asked after I had
begun to get quite uncomfortable with the silence.
"Yes, I do," I replied, grateful for her converstaional
opening. "I've been in lots of companies, but I don't think
I've ever seen a conference room as elegant as this one."
"Well, I want my clients to be comfortable," she replied. "I
think that the proper atmosphere can really be conducive to
good business relations. Don't you think so?"
"Well, I guess so," I answered. "I just think this is really
nice -- and I wish more businesses would take the time to do
things like this."
"Well, they used to do that a lot more, say 20 or 30 years ago,"
she replied. "But nowadays everyone's in it for the fast buck
and they don't like to spend money on such niceties. That's
why this country is going down the shithole so fast these days,
I think."
I was a bit taken aback at her use of the word "shithole," not
because such language shocks me or because I think it's
unladylike or anything, but because it seemed a bit out of
character with the elegant, refined image she had been
conveying up until then.
But more than that, I was impressed with her views about
American business and about the decline of the U.S.A. I share
her views and I have a hard time finding people who agree with
me or are even willing to discuss them. I guess most Americans
can't cope with the reality that the good ol' American dream is
pretty much dead -- or at least in a rather advanced, comatose
state.
So, her comment sparked me to start talking about my opinions,
and pretty soon we were in a rather animated conversation about
this topic. As we talked I became more and more comfortable
with her and started to like her quite a bit. She was smart,
perceptive, witty, and quite sexy. I often found myself
staring at her legs which were crossed right in front of me,
and I couldn't help but notice her body, which seemed relaxed
and loose under her clothes. Most women in business seemed so
stiff and uptight, and Rachael's apparent comfortableness with
her body was a striking change from that.
As we continued to chat, I began to notice that Rachael was
acting quite businesslike and I saw no evidence that she had
any knowledge of Mary's antics. This made me wonder if perhaps
I was wrong about Rachael having something to do with Mary's
behavior. Maybe Mary's actions had nothing to do with Rachael
wanting me to stay with the agency. At any rate, I began to
feel better about dealing with Rachael as we continued to talk.
After a few minutes of this, I had all but forgotten about
Mary. Those few times she intruded into my consciousness, I
just dismissed the thought about her with a reminder to myself
that she would still be there when I was done here. I found
myself drawn to Rachael, but in a different way than I was
drawn to Mary. She was sexually attractive to me, but in a
less blatant and more refined manner than Mary was. She wasn't
doing anything that could be labelled as flirtatious, and
didn't seem to be intentionally trying to arouse me -- at least
not in the way that Mary had done. Rachael was just behaving
like a confident, refined woman who knows she's beautiful and
who always does her best to show off her charms.
We were long done with the subject of the decline of American
values, and our conversation had meandered into many related areas:
art, politics, current events, literature, etc. Finally, it
was Rachael who got us back on course.
"You really are a stimulating conversationalist, Al," she said,
sending a shiver of arousal through me as I savored the
compliment. "But as much as I'd love to continue this with
you, we have some business to attend to, I'm afraid."
"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "I guess we need to see if we can
reach an agreement about my rates that would allow me to stay
with your agency." I vowed that I wasn't going to let her
charm me into settling for less than what I wanted, although I
had to admit myself that her ample charms would be hard to
resist.
"Uh-huh," she said cheerfully. "So, Al, what would make you
want to stay with us?"
"More money," I smiled.
She smiled back. "How much more money, Al?"
With that, we lept into the negotiations. The new contract
paid me $200 a day more than my current one. Although the
headhunter had told me that Rachael wouldn't give me that much
of a raise, I asked her for it anyway. Sure enough, she
replied that she couldn't afford that much and offered me much
less. I rejected that offer and we fell into some
old-fashioned horse trading.
After a while, Rachael gave me what she said was her final
offer: we'd split the difference, and I'd get a $100/day raise.
Now, this was enough for me, and I was more or less willing to
accept. However, I didn't want to seem to eager, and I really
wanted to get away from her and think about it alone before I
made my final decision. So, I told her I was leaning towards
accepting, but I wasn't sure.
With that, she said, "I understand, Al. You need time. But I
want to help you make up your mind."
This sounded like perhaps she was going to kick in some more
money, so I smiled and gave her an inquisitive but encouraging
glance.
"I know you're having a hard time with this, Al," she said,
speaking slowly and carefully and watching me very closely. "I
realize that money isn't the only thing that's motivating you
here."
I'd heard this kind of thing before: my negotiating partner
would try to use the "money isn't everything" argument to make
me feel guilty about being greedy and thereby to beat me down
on price. I knew how to handle it.
"You're right, it's not, Rachael," I countered. "I have to
weigh the money with all the other intangibles. It's a
decision only I can make -- alone. That's why I need to sleep
on it."
"Of course," she replied, unfazed. "You said you're leaning
towards accepting my offer of $100 less a day to stay with us.
You obviously have priorities other than pure greed. That's
admirable."
Always beware of compliments during negotions, I reminded
myself. "Thanks," I said politely but looking back at her with
resolve. "I'm glad you understand."
"Oh, I do, Al," she replied calmly. "But there's one thing I
still _don't_ quite understand."
"OK," I replied, wondering what she was up to. "What's that?"
"What is it about us that would make you want to give up $100 a
day?" she asked, with mock innocence.
I realized that she had me. I had to admit to myself that the
only reason I was even considering her offer was because I
liked how she and Mary were making me feel. How could I admit
that to her? I tried to come up with a plausible-sounding
explanation at the spur of the moment. "Well," I said
nervously, "I ... uh, I'm just, well ... well, _comfortable_
with this agency and ... and you've always treated me well and
... and, well, I guess it's not always easy to make a change.
The fact that this is a known situation is worth something to
me, I guess."
I realized that if I wasn't careful, she'd have me agreeing to
her terms right there on the spot, so I quickly added, "But you
know, it's a hard choice. That's why I need the time tonight
to sleep on it and think it over."
"Of course," she replied. "I understand perfectly why you'd
need time. I already told you that I understand that. But I'm
still a bit confused, Al. I hope you don't mind me asking you
about this. I don't mean to pry or anything."
She paused a moment as if wanting a response, so I nervously
replied, "Oh, no ... it's OK." It _wasn't_ OK, but the reply
just came out of me before I could think.
She nodded and continued. "I'm still confused. Would you
really give up $100 a day just for some familiarity and
comfort? I mean, that's more than $25,000 a year."
"Well, yeah ..." I stammered, feeling trapped.
She kept on. "And so there must be something else, Al. That's
a lot of money."
She was taking a big risk with this line of questioning. I
could easily say that she was right, that come to think of it,
$100 a day really _isn't_ enough. I could then thank her for
opening my eyes and reject her offer. But somehow I knew that
she was aware of that risk and was confident that I wouldn't do
that.
"Yes, it is a lot money," I replied, helplessly trying to think
of a way out and stalling with that non-committal reply.
"So what is it, Al? What do we have to offer here for you
that's worth the money you're considering giving up?" She was
outwardly kind but coldly unwavering.
"Well, Rachael, it's hard to say," I prevaricated. "It's sort
of ... of a feeling I have, I guess. It's ... it's hard to
put my finger on ... just a feeling -- you know?"
"What kind of feeling?" She kept on pushing.
"Oh ... I don't know ... just ... just a ... just an intangible
kind of ... it's hard to say, Rachael." I was desperate.
"That's why I ... I need time to ... need time alone to think
about it ... you know, to try to understand it better before I
finally decide. Sometimes I ... I need to ... well, how can I
say this? ... uh, sometimes I get feelings that I should do
something and then later on regret it. It's a problem with me.
That's why I need to ... to think it over some more. You
understand, don't you?" I pleaded.
"Yes, Al, I _do_ understand," she replied kindly. "I don't
mean to put you on the spot. I'll back off."
"Oh, that's OK," I replied, the words practically gushing out
of me. I was off the hook and I felt relieved. "I'm just sorry
I can't give you a more timely answer," I continued magnanimously.
"No, Al, I really do understand, and I couldn't expect a better
answer from you." She was all sweetness and friendliness. "In
fact, I should apologize to you, as well. I put you on the
spot even though I understood perfectly what was motivating
you. I sometimes get pushy in spite of what's best for me ...
and for the situation. It's a fault I still need to work on."
"Oh, that's OK, Rachael. You don't need to apolgize for that."
I was filled with sweetness myself, partly from relief at being
let off the hook, partly because Rachael was being so nice, and
partly because I sensed our discussion was coming to an end and
I was looking forward to more fun with Mary. "But if you
insist on apologizing," I continued, "I certainly accept it."
"Well, thank you, Al," she replied graciously and seemingly
with sincere feeling. "You're most gracious, but that doesn't
change the fact that my pushing you was still uncalled for. I
knew from the beginning that the main reason you were seriously
considering my offer was because of how sexually turned on I'm
getting you."
Shit! This whole line of discussion was a skillfully laid trap
for me that Rachael had set, and I had fallen right into it. I
was visibly shaken when she sprung it on me, and I swore to
myself and started to make a feeble protest.
"Oh, there's no use denying it," she continued, cutting me off.
"I know I'm a very attractive woman, and I can clearly see the
reactions I'm having on you."
"Rachael," I protested, visibly in pain. "It's really ... I
mean ... it's not what you think, and ..."
"No, Al. It's exactly what I think." She was kind but firm.
"But don't worry. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I don't
think anything's wrong with that. It's a normal reaction on
your part ..." she said, giving me a sly look. Then she
continued, "... especially considering that it's exactly the
reaction I wanted you to have."
"Oh," I said, sullenly and with a bit of venom. "Wonderful.
I'm so glad to know that," I spat. So perhaps my original
suspicions were correct after all about her and Mary.
"Don't take it so hard, Al. It's nothing personal," she said
coolly but still with kindness in her voice. "This is
business. I make a lot of money off of you here, and I want
you to stay."
"Well," I said, feeling a strange calmness come over me,
presumably because things were now more out in the open. "I
guess I can understand it from your point of view -- sort of.
But, well, I mean, I'm not used to ... to, well ..." I was
resentful and feeling bold "... to someone prostituting
themselves in this kind of business deal."
I wanted the words to sting, but to my dismay, Rachael was
totally unfazed. "That's no big deal to me, Al. You see, I
_am_ a prostitute."
I assumed that she meant that she acknowledged that she used
sex to win business deals. "Well, in that sense, many women are,
I guess. But what I was trying to say was ..."
I was looking to make the insult more pointed, but she cut me
off. "No, Al. I don't think you do understand. I really _am_
a prostitute. You know, a hooker: I make money by performing
sexual acts."
I was shocked. This was totally unexpected. "But, but ... how
... ?" My sentence trailed off into nothingness.
"I told you how I built this business up. Well, what I didn't
tell you was that I've been a hooker since I was 17. I always
hated pimps and I managed to always work on my own. It was
hard, but I don't give up easily, and by the time I was 21 I
was pulling in over $5000 a week. That was quite a bit back
then. I'm really good."
All I could say was, "Uh, you must be."
"Very, _very_ good, Al. So after a while I had worked myself
up to being a very expensive, very high-class call girl.
Although I was able to stay clear of any pimps, I still had to
work through escort agencies. I made a good living, but I
didn't like the agency getting its big cut. So three of the
girls and I started our own agency. We did quite well, but
after a few years I wanted more. Plus, the escort business is
really a hassle. It's too visible. So, I hit upon the idea of
starting this legitimate business as a front. I had a lot of
money in the bank, so I started up this agency as a temporary
secretarial service. I sent girls out on straight assignments,
and I also used it as a front for the other kinds of services
we provided."
So that explained Mary, I thought to myself.
Rachael was going on with her story. "Pretty soon I was making
as much on the straight business as I was with the other stuff,
so I expanded and went big-time, placing consultants like you
as well as the run-of-the-mill office help. I now pull in over
$10 million a year, and most of the people who work through me
have no idea about the other side of the business. My contacts
as a call-girl get me right to the top of most of the major
corporations, and the men are happy to hire my people -- both
for office services and for the other services I perform. I've
had this business now for over 8 years, and although I keep
busy running it, I still sometimes will go out on a sexual
assignment myself. Needless to say, I'm quite expensive."
"Of course," I replied with bitterness.
"So yes, Al," she continued, ignoring my remark, "I _am_ a
prostitute. And this gets me back to our little business deal
here."
"OK," I murmurred, still depressed, but wondering what she was
leading up to. If it was a sex-for-money deal, I might go for
it.
"Well, Al, do you know what my markup is on you?" she asked.
"I don't know," I replied glumly. "What? Maybe $200 or $300 a
day?"
"How about $600?" she replied calmly.
"That's a 100 percent markup!" I exclaimed. "How do you get
them to pay for it?"
She smiled slyly and said, "I don't give away trade secrets."
I could imagine what kinds of persuasion she used on her
clients.
"Actually, I only make $200 on paper if you accept the raise
I'm offering you," she went on. "That's $100 a day for me
after tax and expenses. The other $400 is tax-free and
under the table -- that comes to $500 of profit a day, or more
than $10000 a month free and clear. You can see why I want you
to stay with us."
"Yeah, I certainly can," I answered, suddenly aware of a new
angle. "So you can afford to give me a lot more than $100 a
day, can't you."
She smiled again. "Not on paper I can't. I have to show a
profit."
"But it kind of gets under my skin to know that you make so
much off of me," I shot back. "If the clients pay, I must be
worth it to them and I think I should get more of that money
than you have offered so far.
"Well, I don't mean to underestimate your considerable
abilities or the high respect the clients have for you," she
countered, "but in this case I must point out that the extra
$400 a day is because of _my_ efforts, and I assure you that
our clients are very clear on this point."
"OK," I replied, "I grant you that. But you mustn't forget
that no matter whose services the $400 is meant to pay for, it
still will stop if I take the other contract. Maybe something
less than the $400 would be better than nothing. The way I
see it, you get the money under the table, and so you can give
some of it back to me under the table, as well." I was proud of
myself and my negotiating skills.
"Now we're finally getting down to business, Al," she said.
"Yes, I could do that -- but I'd rather give it back to you
in other ways." She shifted her position on the chair so that
her leg was pressing against mine.
"You see, Al," she continued, "I'm willing to give half of the
$400 a day back to you, but in, well, 'personal services' instead
of cash. That comes to $4000 a month in these services from me,
Mary, or one of my other girls. Mary normally charges $1200 to
$1500 a night. I usually charge at least $2500. For $4000 a month,
you can get quit a bit of sex from us Al -- and it'll be the
best sex you ever had."
I felt a twinge in my cock, and I found myself having a harder
and harder time thinking. Rachael went on, "You see, Al, Mary
and I really understand what you need. With us you don't have
to bullshit around with trying to satisfy your partner, or with
'making love', or with trying to stay hard, or with anything
like that. I've been in the business for over 18 years, and know
what men _really_ need. I know what _you_ really need, Al -- probably
even better than you do. Mary, I, and some of my other girls are
experts, Al. We'll get you hotter than you've ever been, and
we'll keep you that way for hours."
She sat back again in her chair. My cock was almost totally
erect, and it twitched and throbbed as it pushed up the front
of my pants.
"So what do you say, Al?" Rachael asked. "Do we have a deal?"
I didn't answer immediately. I needed to think.
If I accepted her offer I'd be making $100 a day less than if I
took the new offer (although it's $100 a day _more_ than my
current rate, I reminded myself). On the other hand I'd be
getting two or more nights a month with Rachael or Mary or some
other experienced woman. I wanted to say yes, but I started to
fear that I was going to be ripped off. If I agreed to this and
then Rachael welched on me, I didn't have any legal recourse --
I could hardly take her to court for withholding sexual services.
If she did rip me off I _could_ just quit, but the good offer I
would be turning down today in order to take Rachael's offer
would be long gone, and I couldn't be sure there would be another.
But as a freelance consultant, I was accustomedd to that kind of
uncertainty, I reminded myself, and I realized that I was afraid
of a lot more than being ripped off financially. I was afraid of
the power Mary and Rachael would have over me if I gave in.
While all this was going through my mind, Rachael patiently sat
there and waited for me to answer. Finally, I said, "Well,
Rachael, I'm inclined to accept, but ... but, well, I'm
worried."
"About what?" she asked calmly. "You can always quit if I
don't keep my side of the bargain."
"I know," I said, no longer able to refrain from laying my
cards on the table. "But that's not really it. It's that ...
well, that I'm afraid of being ... being ... well, being out
of control and ... and, well, under your ... I mean, I'm afraid
of the emotional aspects of this kind of arrangement," I
hedged.
She smiled to herself and nodded. "You almost said your afraid
of being under my power, didn't you, Al?" she purred, her
voice taking on a deep, husky, inviting aspect. "You're afraid
of the sexual power I can have over you, right?"
"Well ..." I sighed and then hesitated. Rachael was absolutely
correct and I didn't know how to worm out of admitting that to
her. "Yes," I finally conceded, "I'm afraid of ... of what you
said."
"Hmmmm ..." she said, nodding slowly as she stared deeply into
my eyes. "You know what I think, Al?" she suddenly asked.
"Uh, what's that?"
"I think that you _want_ me to have sexual power over you. I
think it really turns you on, Al."
She was right, but I could hardly admit it to myself, let alone
her. "No! No, Rachael ... I admit I'm ... I'm, uh ... uh
nervous and, well ... but not ... uh ..."
"No, Al," Rachael interrupted. "There's no use denying it.
Look. You're really scared and yet you're still sitting here.
You could've left -- made some excuse, told me to get fucked --
anything. There are a hundred ways you could have gotten out
of here. But you didn't. You're still sitting here arguing."
I felt a horrible sinking feeling inside of me as the realization
hit me that she had me pegged to the letter.
"No, Al, I'm right," Rachael continued. The idea of me or
one of my girls having sexual power over you excites you --
deep, deep inside of you, Al. It's something you've desired --
no, something you've _craved_ for a long, long time. I know
I'm right, Al."
I just looked down nervously and then back up at her.
"I've been in the business for 18 years," she continued, "and I
couldn't be successful at it without understanding men, Al.
And I'm _very_ successful, and I'm _very_ good at understanding
men. I'm not wrong about a man very often, and I _know_ I'm
not wrong about you."
I started protesting again, although quite feebly.
Once again she cut me off. "Don't fight it, Al. I know what
you need. You need me to take control of you sexually -- to
understand your needs so well that I don't have to ask you what
you want -- that distracts you -- I know, Al -- see, I _do_
understand -- and to take you totally under my control -- under
my sexual power -- to slowly, expertly build up your arousal --
more and more hotly, deeply, dizzingly overwhelming you with
sexual pleasure. You love sitting here hearing me tell you this,
and you'll love it even more when we get down and start actually
doing it. And I _can_ do it, Al. Have no doubt about that.
I'm an expert at it, Al."
I swallowed thickly.
"See, I know what you want, Al. Just hearing me talk about it
makes your mouth water. I know you want to surrender to me.
To yield totally to my sexual expertise. I'll keep you hot,
hard, throbbing for a long, long time, Al, with no pain, no
S&M, no 'Mistress' type stuff that I know you don't want. I'll
delay your orgasm so that your ecstacy builds and builds beyond
anything you've even dreamed of -- I can do that, Al -- I
assure you. And when I do give you your release, the pleasure
will be indescribable -- you'll be overwhelmed with the
intensity of your sensations. It'll be like no orgasm you've
ever experienced -- so long and deep and overpowering. And you
know what, Al?"
All I could do was shake my head feebly.
"I know how to give you an orgasm like that and still keep a
lot of your cum in you. That means I'll be able to give you
two -- three -- maybe even four more orgasms before you're
finally spent. Isn't this and everything else I've just finished
describing to you what you really want, Al?"
She was absolutely right about all of that, but all I could do
was sigh and gaze helplessly at her.
"So Al," she continued, her voice deep, husky, and dripping
with sexual invitation, "do we have a deal? Just say the word
and the deal is done. Surrender to me, Al."
She knew I'd agree. "Yes," I murmurred, the words catching in
my throat. "I want ... I want it. It's a deal."
"Good," she said as she smiled faintly and got up from her
chair. "Just stay there. I'm going to call Mary in."
With that she went to the phone and made a quick call,
presumably to Mary in the outer office, although I couldn't
hear anything.
After she hung up she returned to her chair. "Now, Al," she
said after she was seated, "get totally nude and stand in front
of me," Rachael said softly. "I want you totally undressed by
the time Mary gets here."
I hesitated and then did what Rachael asked. When I was
completely naked I nervously stood up facing Rachael. She just
sat there looking at me and my now soft cock until Mary entered
a short while later. She came over to me and purred, "You're
going to love this, Al."
I just nodded.
"Now, Al," Rachael said, "as I'm sure you know, Mary is really
good with penises."
She paused but I just stood there.
"So I want you to see how good she really is, Al. Now we're
going to do a little experiment of sorts. You stand here just
like this, and put your hands on your hips. That's it. Good.
Now, you are not to speak and you must not remove your hands
from your hips under any circumstances. Do you understand?"
"Uh, well ..." I was afraid to make such a promise. What if
one of them started whipping me or something?
Rachael seemed to sense my fear and said, "No one will hurt
you, not even a little bit. Now, no speaking and keep your
hands on your hips."
"OK" I acceeded.
"Now, the experiment is this: we're going to see how hard Mary
can get that cock of yours without even touching it. Remember,
hands on your hips and no speaking. Now Mary, let's begin."
With that, Mary came over behind me and kneeled down. I felt
her hands tickling up from my ankles slowly up the insides of
my legs. Rachael sat back in her chair and began to talk to
Mary. "So do you think you can do it, Mary?"
"Oh, sure. No problem. I'll have that penis of his really
hard." Mary's fingers slowly snaked their way up the insides
my legs and then back down again.
"Well, if anyone can do it, it's you," Rachael replied. "But I
don't know -- it still looks pretty soft to me."
"Well, I'm barely getting started," Mary replied, her fingers
tickling up a little higher and then down again. "He loves his
penis," Mary purred, continuing her teasing up and down my
inner legs. "He likes to play with it more than anything
else."
"Yeah, I figured he did," Rachael replied laconically.
"Oh, he just _loves_ teasing and stroking his penis." Mary
continued. She slid one finger up the inside of my thigh and
barely touched the bottom of one of my balls. An electric spasm
shot through me and my cock twitched. As she slid her finger
back down she said, "But, I think you're going to have a hard
time getting him to keep his hands on his hips. Pretty soon
I'll have him so hot that all he'll be able to think about is
how much he wants to grab that long, hard, hot thing and start
stroking it."
"Oh, don't worry about that, Mary," Rachael countered. "I'll
make sure he keeps his promise."
"You know, Rachael," Mary said, changing the subject, "penises
really turn him on." She ran her hands up the fronts of my
thighs all the way up to my groin. She caressed me next to my
cock without touching it and then rubbed my stomach. "I think
he'd like to see me playing with some nice, big, hard cocks,
don't you?"
"I think you're right, Mary," Rachael agreed. "Let's show him
how good you are at milking the cum out of penises."
Rachael then turned to me and said, "OK, Al, move over closer
to the VCR. We're going to show you a really hot video."
Mary stopped her caresses and I walked over to where Rachael
had indicated. She sat in another chair, facing me, and she
said to Mary, "Why don't you get nude after you load up the
tape."
"OK," Mary replied. She went to the bookshelf and located a
tape, which she then put into the VCR after turning it on and
dimming the lights. She then quickly stepped out or her
clothes and went back behind me.
As the video started up, Rachael paused it with a remote
control as Mary resumed caressing my legs, thighs, ass, groin,
and stomach from behind.
"This is a video of Mary," Rachael suddenly piped in. "I
think you'll really like it." With that she pushed the
button and the video began.
On the screen there a shot of a man lying on his back on the
ground suddenly appeared. It was shot at floor level, so that all
that could be seen of him were his feet, his partially spread
legs, his balls, and his cock standing straight up. He appeared
to have some sort of cuffs around his ankles, which led me to
believe he was restrained. Mary then walked in, totally nude, and
faced the camera. She straddled his body with one leg on either
side of his hips, and she began to speak. The sound quality
wasn't great, but I could clearly understand her.
Looking right into the camera, she was saying, "I want your
big, hard prick in my cunt." She paused, licking her lips.
"Look at my nipples," she then said as she began to pinch them
with her fingers. "They're so hard -- just like your big, long
dick."
With that, I felt Mary's breasts rubbing against my ass as she
tickled the area right next to my balls with her fingertips.
The Mary on the video moaned and started slowly sliding her
hands down her chest to her stomach and then to her groin. She
squatted slightly and began to rub her pussy with one hand.
"Oooooh, my pussy is so hot," she whispered as she fingered
herself for the camera. "So wet." Looking down at the erect
penis below her, she said, "Your prick is so long -- so hard --
so hot! I'm gonna sit on it -- I'm gonna sit right down on
that big, hard thing of yours so it slides way up deep into my
wet, hot cunt. Oh yeah!" she moaned as she squatted down so
her pussy was right behind the head of the penis on the screen.
She put one hand on the floor next to the man's hips to support
her weight, and with the other one took his organ in her hand.
Gazing back into the camera she bagan to rub the head of his
penis forward and back along the length of her slit. "What a
hot prick." she moaned. "I love getting your head all wet with
my pussy juice -- it slides so well along my cunt." I heard a
male moan coming from the video. "Oh, yeah," she purred. "You
love the way I make your head feel. I can feel all of your
long, hard prick throbbing in my hand."
I felt the real Mary's fingers snaking up my belly to my chest
as she rubbed her breasts against my ass.
I heard another male moan from the video accompanied by an
upward thrust of the man's hips. "Ohhhh, you're so impatient,"
the video-Mary taunted, turning her head slightly to the side
as if talking to the man, but keeping her eyes on the camera
except for an occasional darting glance back to him.
"Oh, how hot you are," said video-Mary as the man swore and
jerked his hips again. He indeed must have been restrained,
because he seemed not to be able to move too much. She
kept sliding the head of his cock up and back along her pussy
and continued, "He didn't believe me when I said I'd have him
begging me to let him slide that hard dick of his up into my
sweet, warm, wet cunt."
She looked at him over her shoulder and said, "Right, honey?
You didn't even think I could get you to stay hard while lying
on your back here in front of the camera on the cold floor --
at least not without me stroking it for you. But see: you were
lying there for at least 2 or 3 minutes while we set up -- and
your big dick was hard and throbbing the whole time."
Video-Mary stopped rubbing his cock along her pussy and
positioned herself so that it was right at her opening, ready
for her to slide it into her. Still looking over her shoulder
at him, she moaned, "So you want me to sit on it now, baby?"
The man moaned and jerked his hips up, but she just stood up a
little so it didn't go in.
"I can't hear you," video-Mary teased. "Tell me what you want
me to do."
The man swore again and thrust his hips once more, this time
quite violently. But it was to no avail, as she moved away
once more.
"Now, now, sweetie," she taunted. "You have to tell me what
you want, or I won't do anything but tease your head some
more." With that she resumed sliding his cock head along her
pussy.
The man grunted and moaned deeply, and I saw his hips and cock
twitching. Finally, after he apparently couldn't stand it any
longer, I heard him say, amid moans and grunts, "OK ... OK ...
I want to put it in you ... I ... I ... please let me ... let
me slide my dick up into you ... please!"
"That's much better, darling," video-Mary replied as she
stopped teasing his head and positioned it once again so it was
aimed at her opening. "You shouldn't doubt my abilities,
sweetheart. I told you I'm an expert making that prick of
yours do whatever I want it to do. Now don't move and I'll
slowly take it into my hot, wet cunt."
With that, video-Mary pushed the head into her pussy and leaned
forward a little, supporting her weight by resting her hands on
his thighs with her arms straight. She looked into the
camera and slowly lowered herself down on his cock until it had
disappeared inside her all the way down to the root.
While all this was happening on the video, the real Mary had
reached my nipples with her hands and began tweaking and
pinching them. She continued rubbing my ass with her breasts
and her now erect nipples as I watched the screen, and she'd
sometimes take one or the other of her hands and tease my
groin, legs, or crotch area without touching my cock. This
plus the video action was getting me really turned on. But my
cock was only half hard, since I'm used to lots of stimulation
and I don't usually get an erection without touching myself.
The scene on the video was similar to scenes in other videos
that I'd jacked off to at home and in porno theaters, and I
felt an increasingly strong desire to grab my cock and stroke
it -- especially when video-Mary was taunting the man. But I
did what Rachael told me to do and forced myself to keep my hands
on my hips.
Video-Mary had slowly sat down on the man's cock, and then she
began to raise and lower herself on it. She never took her
eyes off the camera as she continuously and hypnotically
chanted in a low, throaty, moaning voice: "Oooooh, yeah ... so
hot ... so wet ... fuck my cunt ... oh yeah ... fuck my hot,
sweet, wet cunt ... in and out ... in and out ... fuck it ...
fuck it! ..."
She spoke in exact rhythm with her motions, which slowly became
more and more elaborate as she'd rotate her hips, move them
back and forth and from side to side, squeeze her legs together
tightly, and do other hot variations. Sometimes she'd lightly
graze her fingers along his inner thighs, on his balls, or
part way up his shaft if she was on an upstroke.
Video-Mary's monologue continued as I stared raptly at her
image on the screen. I loved the sight of her nude body sexily
writhing up and down on the man's cock -- especially as she
seemingly stared and spoke right at me. Her motions emphasized
the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, and this
really turned me on.
"... in and out ..." she was moaning, "... that big ... long
... hard ... _prick_! So long ... so hard ... so _hot_! ...
ooooh yeah! ... what a hot dick! ... in and out ... milking it
with my cunt! ..."
This went on until the real Mary suddenly stopped her stroking
and caressing. I started to turn around but Rachael stopped me
with a sharp whisper: "Keep watching the video. She'll be
back."
I obeyed, and sure enough, a few seconds later I felt her
breasts against my ass again. But then, I felt what seemed to
be her slippery finger sliding up and down the crack of my ass.
Apparently she had put some lubricant on her finger. This
caused me to gasp loudly and involuntarily push my ass back
against her finger. She chuckled and said, "Now we're _really_
going to get going!"
Rachael paused the video and said, "I don't know, Mary. He's
only partially erect."
"Hey, no problem," Mary replied as she slid her finger up and
down my crack again. "He can hardly control himself as it is.
He wants to massage and squeeze his penis really bad. Right, Al?"
I grunted an affirmative sound.
"He loves this, Rachael," Mary purred as she continued sliding
her slick finger up and down my crack. "Start the video. His
penis is going to get _really_ hard now."
With that, Rachael nodded at me with a taunting smile of her
own and started the video going again. Once again, video-Mary
was moving up and down and all around on the man's hard cock. "...
big prick ... long prick ... _hard_ prick ..." she was
moaning.
The real Mary began pushing her slippery finger against my anal
opening. She was careful to keep time with the video.
Whenever video-Mary would sit down on the man's cock, the real
Mary's finger would push against my anus. When video-Mary
would slide up off his shaft, the real Mary's finger would pull
back from my anus and slide up and down my crack. The real
Mary even moved her finger against my anus in such a way as to
mirror video-Mary's side-to-side, back-and-forth, and circular
motions on the man's cock.
"... oooooh, so hot ... so wet ..." video-Mary was moaning.
Never lowering her eyes from the camera, she was clenching her
teeth and hissing out the words in an increasingly intense
rhythm, as if a man was watching her and she was mirroring his
growing arousal. "... fuck it ... my hot cunt ... your long,
hard prick ... ooooooh, yeah! ..." Video-Mary kept it up
without pause.
As this was going on in the video, the real Mary's fingers were
snaking deeper and deeper into my ass hole. At first, I kept
it clenched tightly closed, but soon Mary's expert touch had me
relaxing and allowing her slippery finger deeper and deeper in
me. The sensations were much more pleasurable than I ever
thought they could be -- the hookers who did this to me in the
past apparently weren't very good at it.
Soon, Mary was thrusting deeply in me and pressing against my
inner anus in such a way as to send shivers of pleasure through
me. I think I probably was thrusting my hips back and forth to
meet her hot, penetrating strokes, although I was so overcome
with intense sexual pleasure and arousal that I couldn't think
clearly -- the whole memory is a bit of a blur.
All I remember being aware of was the intense pleasure of Mary
finger-fucking my ass hole and the very hot sight of video-Mary
moving up and down on the man's hard penis on the screen -- in
perfect synchronization.
"... what a hot prick ..." video-Mary was hissing as her
gyrations became more and more feverish and her expression
became more and more intense. "... yeah ... _yeah_! ...
ooooh ... so hard ... hard as steel and really throbbing ...
deep inside me ... ooooh, so deep and hot ... yeah! ... fuck
me ... yeah! ... I said FUCK me with your hard prick ... in
and out ... in and out ..."
By now, the real Mary's stiff finger was thrusting deep in me
and then pulling all the way out. In and out ... in and out
... fucking me hard just like the man's cock on the video.
All of the sudden, video-Mary slowed down her motions and began
once again to speak teasingly: "So baby ... are you ready? ...
huh? ... are you ready to give me every last drop of your hot,
sweet cum? ..." Although she was obviously speaking to the man
in the video, she kept her eyes fixed on the camera, as if she was
really talking to me.
I heard a faint grunt in the background of the video that was
unmistakably an affirmative reply. Real Mary kept fucking me
in the ass with her finger in exact rhythm with video-Mary's
slower and less intense motions.
"Oooooh," she taunted, never taking her gaze from the camera.
"I bet you have such a big, hot load of creamy cum in those
balls of yours, huh?" I felt as if she as talking to me, and I
suddenly realized that I _did_ want to cum.
Another incoherent male grunt came from the video.
Completely stopping her up and down motions, video-Mary sat
down all the way on the man's cock. Real Mary followed suit
and just kept her finger buried deep in my ass. "You've never
even been half this hot before," video-Mary purred. "You're
gonna cum so _much_! ..." she hissed as she gave her hips two
rotations as his cock remained buried deep inside her.
The real Mary rotated her finger in me in exact time with
video-Mary's motions. This caused me to gasp loudly with
intense pleasure. I wanted to cum really badly. It was all I
could do to keep from grabbing my cock in my fist and furiously
pumping myself to orgasm. But I obeyed Rachael's instructions,
although I had to clench my fists tightly against my hips to
keep from giving in to my urges.
"... your juice is gonna spurt out ..." video-Mary was saying.
"... gobs of hot cream are gonna shoot out of that long, hot
dick ..." she gave her hips another rotation, with real
Mary following suit with her finger. "... flowing up your
shaft ... your creamy wet semen ... ohhhh, you've got so much
of it ..." Video-Mary rotated her hips once more, and real
Mary did the same with her finger.
Then, video-Mary suddenly got up off the man's cock, which
glistened with her juices as it stood up, hard as steel and
throbbing. A disappointed male moan came from the video,
followed by my own, similar moan as real Mary pulled her finger
all the way out of me.
Video-Mary sat on the floor next to the man, facing the camera.
She lightly took the base of his cock in one hand as the camera
zoomed in, framing the cock in her hand in the bottom-center of
the picture. Her face was off camera, and she was saying, "You
said you'd never cum for the camera."
I heard another male groan.
"But you will. And you're gonna cum so good. So hot!" With
that, her other hand appeared on screen. In it was a glob of
some kind of thick lubricant, like KY jelly or something
similar. As his organ twitched, she smeared the thick jelly up
and down his shaft and started stroking lightly with her hand.
Real Mary resumed her finger-fucking of my asshole, once again
exactly in time with video-Mary's strokes on the screen.
Video-Mary's head then appeared in the picture. She was behind
his cock, her chin almost resting on his belly. She stared
right into the camera as she expertly jacked him off.
"No ... no! ..." I heard the man moaning behind her, apparently
not wanting to cum on camera but knowing he didn't really have
much control over whether or not he did.
As video-Mary continued to masturbate his cock, she just smiled
devilishly and mercilessly teased him. She never lowered her
eyes from the camera, and in my arousal from watching her
stroke that hard cock, and from the sensations of the real Mary
fingering my ass hole, it felt as if video-Mary was talking
directly to me.
"You're gonna cum so good," she taunted, hotly squeezing,
caressing, and pumping on his cock with her hand. "Yeah ...
try to hold back ... yeah ... try to keep me from pumping your
creamy, hot jizz out of this big, hard, _throbbing_ prick ...
ooooh yeah ... you know you can't resist ... the pleasure is
growing inside of you ... you feel the semen building up in you
... burning inside of you ..."
Video-Mary's strokes became faster and more rhythmic. She'd
sometimes run her thumb over the purple head on her upstroke,
causing the man to moan, grunt, and writhe his hips.
The sound of video-Mary's voice, the sight of her hand sliding
up and down the man's cock, and the sensations of the real
Mary's finger going in and out of my asshole were getting me so
hot that all I could think about was cumming. My arms started
involuntarily twitching as I fought the now almost
uncontrollable urge to take them from my hips, grab my cock,
and furiously jack myself off to orgasm.
Rachael must have seen my struggles, because I suddenly noticed
her kneeling at my side and tightly holding my arms at my
sides. This was slightly annoying at first, but soon I was
lost once again in the sensations of Mary finger-fucking me as
I stared at the video.
"You know you wanna cum," video-Mary was saying on screen, her
stroking of his slippery, hard cock getting faster and harder
(and real Mary's finger-fucking of my ass follwing suit). "You
wanna shoot all that creamy spunk of yours out so we all can
see it ... so we can get it on tape."
Another, more desperate-sounding grunt came from the man, but
video-Mary ignored it and kept up her masturbation of him. He
was grunting and moaning now with just about every breath, and
he seemed to be fighting her efforts. But it was obvious that
his protestations were futile -- his cock was twitching and
throbbing and it seemed like it was just a matter of moments
before his orgasm would overtake him.
He made a grunt that sounded a lot like "I don't want to!".
"Yes you do, honey," Video-Mary taunted in reply. "You want to
shoot it out for us so badly you can't stand it," she went on.
"You _know_ you do. You feel the hot semen building up in your
balls ... and you _want_ it on tape ... yes you do ... you want
all of us to see the sperm coming out of your penis ... and you
want it on tape so _you_ can see it ... oh yes you do ... and
you _know_ it ... you want to see the video yourself ... yes
you do ... you want to see me on camera ... fucking you ...
jerking you off ... and especially making you cum ... you
want to see that more than anything ... oh yes you do ... your
cock and balls are telling me you do ... you can't deny it ...
you're so close ... so close to giving us all your semen ...
you want to see the video ... to see me pumping your dick ...
talking real dirty to you on camera ... showing you your big,
hard prick ... and your want to see your hot cum shooting out
..."
With that, the man couldn't hold back any more. He groaned so
loudly it was almost a yell, and gob after gob of white, creamy
sperm began to shoot out of his spasming penis.
Video-Mary kept pumping him and kept talking directly to the
camera: "Ooooooh, yeah ... such hot cum ... creamy sperm ...
yeah, it looks so _good_! ... wait till you see the video ...
come on ... give me some more so I can smear it all over your
hard, slippery cock ... oh yeah ... you're gonna _love_ jacking
off to this video ... I'm talking to you as you're watching
yourself cum ..." (it felt like she was talking to me as I
watched) "... look at all that creamy cum ... squeeze the
shaft of your prick! ... oh yeah ... there's another creamy gob
... oozing down your shaft ... it looks so hot ... it gets you
so hard ... see how I made you cum against your will ...
stroke that hot shaft ... yeah ... this isn't some porno actor
... this is _your_ penis that's cumming on this video ...
your long, hot, sperm-filled prick ... squeeze it ... pump it
... I can make you cum any time I want ... cum for me now ...
pump your dick ... harder ... HARDER! ... give me all your
sperm NOW ... I'm making you cum now ... cum for me, squeeze
it all out! ... your hot, creamy cum!"
Rachael was holding me apparently with all her strength,
because I was furiously struggling to get free and jack off.
The real Mary's finger kept fucking my ass, and all I could
think about was cumming like video-Mary was commanding. But
Rachael kept me from touching myself.
The man had stopped cumming. Video-Mary slowly let go of his
cock but kept looking into the camera, moaning softly in time
to his groans in the background and the twitching of his cock.
It was covered with semen, which slowly dripped down his shaft
as he gradually lost his erection.
The real Mary had stopped finger-fucking my ass when video-Mary
had let go of the man's cock. She then helped Rachael by tightly
grabbing one of my arms, thereby allowing Rachael to concetrate
her strength on the other.
The video ended as video-Mary moved off camera, and the
close-up of the man's now-limp cock faded off the screen.
I was in a near frenzy of lust, but both women held tight.
It was only then that I looked down at my cock. I hadn't
noticed until now that it was sticking out of me, hard as
steel and throbbing with intense arousal. So Mary was
right after all: she had indeed succeeded in giving me a
raging hard-on without once touching my cock.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-=( Tommy )=-