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3plus/negot8-2
Al de Lanza
Contract Negotiations (Part 2)
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.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).
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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, 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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