Archive-name: 3plus/negot8-2.txt

Archive-author: Al de Lanza

Archive-title: 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.



	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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