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Chapter One JennaTip #1: Stiffy Lube
In the story, our powerfully sexy woman uses butter to lube up her man's member. While butter might feel nice and slick, it isn't recommended as a lubricant for intercourse because butter is a dairy product containing animal fat and it has bacteria in it that could lead to some funky and nasty infections. It can also degrade condoms, potentially causing them to fail. And you really don't want your condoms to fail. That's like having no brakes on a car going downhill in a snowstorm. Not a good experience.
Crisco shortening is man-made and not natural at all and has a long history of being used as a sexual lubricant since it hit the shelves back in the 1950s. While it's thick and very creamy and doesn't dry out, it is messy. With some dishwashing liquid mixed in with regular laundry detergent, rumor has it that any Crisco stains on whatever it's gotten on-sheets, towels, clothes, or your boyfriend's ex-wife's childhood blanket that he kept because she was such a nasty piece of work through the whole divorce-will come out. Again, Crisco should not be used with latex as it can cause the condom or other latex item to deteriorate.
Crisco may have a long history but do consider that while you may get it out of your clothes, you may have a hard time getting it out of your body, which could lead to some very funky and unsexy results.
Overall, just stick with the water-based lubricants that have been created specifically for the job at (or in) hand for best and safest results.
I imagine the shirt she's wearing is really one of his white business shirts with the cuffs rolled up.
"You're sure?" Jane felt awkward as she fastened the last leather cuff tightly around Mark's wrist. He smiled warmly. His dark brown eyes glanced up at the stained ceiling and then back to meet hers. Jane looked around at their tiny apartment with its mishmash of mainly found items.
The harsh light from the student lamp on the cluttered desk lit Mark's lithe body. He sat naked, bound to the frame of a hard wooden chair by his wrists, forearms, neck, thighs, and ankles. His dark wavy hair curled at his neck.
"Are you comfortable like that?" She couldn't stop looking at him, wondering how he didn't mind being so very exposed. Jane gripped the top of her shirt, squeezing the buttons in her hand as though they were magic talismans that would keep her safe and hidden.
"Leave your shirt on." Mark's voice was a gentle whisper. He saw the look of relief on her face. What a shame his beautiful woman was so self-conscious. He was chained up now, so she could be free. He'd be totally exposed and take all the risks.
"Leave your glasses on, too."
He gestured, with a lift of his chin, toward the ottoman sitting between his bound legs. "Come. Sit with me." The chains that were attached to his leather restraints clanked loudly. Mark's limbs were firmly bound. His chest heaved, stretching his rippling muscles over his ribs.
Jane clambered over his left leg carefully and sat on the stool between his legs. She tried not to stare at his large cock. Despite her passionate love for him there were times when she found it difficult to accommodate him. And despite that love or because of that love, Jane was terrified to let go of her control. Would he love her if she gave in to her wild desires? Would her fantasies disgust him? She was such a bundle of contradictions and worries. She didn't know how she had ended up so lucky to have such a compassionate and passionate lover and friend. Because he really was her friend and he really did love her, they were trying out an experiment to see if by binding him she could become unfettered by her conventions and find a way to experience sexual freedom.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Whatever you want." His voice was husky.
Mark looked at her sitting there self-consciously. She was his beautiful intellectual. A girl who loved ideas, wore glasses, and didn't know how sexy she was. Maybe these chains wouldn't work. Maybe she wouldn't unchain her mind just because he'd chained his body. God, how he wanted to just grab her shirt and rip it open, plunge his face between her ample breasts, feel her hair tickle across his body, and suck her until she loosened enough to take in all of him.
Jane watched fascinated as his manhood began to grow. A low moan came from his soft perfect lips. She felt a sudden heat between her legs. With a trembling hand she touched the soft dark hair on his right thigh. He gasped and closed his eyes. His cock stood up rock hard. She leaned in closer and blew her hot breath on his balls. The skin of his sack puckered and roiled. The mustiness of him filled her nostrils. Her mouth moistened and, without thinking, she clamped it over one of his soft shuddering testicles. She sucked softly, gently pulling its roundness into her mouth, savoring the salty warmth, the rasp of hair against her tongue. Mark moaned and pulled against his restraints. With her tongue she traveled over the soft valley between his balls and latched on to the left one, this time sucking it deeper in to her mouth. His thigh muscles rippled as he arched his back.
When his tight ass lifted up from the chair as he strained against the leather bindings, Jane slid her hands under and squeezed his hot damp cheeks as she continued to suck and pull his balls, this way and that, deep within her mouth. His breath was a rumbling animal pant.
Jane's nipples rose to rock-hard pebbles against the lace of her bra. Her pussy twitched with urgency. She slid her hands out from beneath him and gently released his balls from her mouth.
She looked at him. Mark was watching her. His face was wet with sweat. His erection was mammoth. But he was safely chained and strapped down. Jane could do whatever she liked. He had said so.
Jane felt for the top button of her shirt. Mark sucked in his breath as she slowly undid the button. With a shaking finger, she swiped the tip of his cock and rubbed the moisture between her breasts.
The skin of his dick was impossibly tight. He wanted to feel her snug, hot pussy expanding over it, but he had to suffer and wait for her to decide when and what was right. Slowly she began to undo the rest of the buttons. He couldn't wait to see her in this bright light, her gorgeous breasts swinging. He yanked on the chains, unable to stop the automatic physical response, the need to reach, to touch.
Jane threw the shirt to the floor and helped herself to the new bead of moisture that emerged from the tip of his cock. She rubbed it between her fingers and slid her hand under her bra.
"Please." His face had never looked so vulnerable.
Jane slowly reached back to unfasten her bra strap.
"Please. You're so beautiful." He could barely get the words out.
She looked down. Her breasts were beautiful. She hadn't really ever considered that before. Her skin felt a prickly chill as she grasped her nipples between her fingertips. Her tits felt large and warm and soft as she massaged them. She wanted to touch herself below.
"Yes. Yes." Mark pulled against the cuffs. "I can't stand it." He shut his eyes. He couldn't bear any more. He was going to explode.
Jane wriggled out of her panties and tossed them aside. Her fingers felt for her clit.
"Watch." She didn't even know how the word came out. Did she really say that?
Mark's eyes flew open. He licked his lips, desperately wanting to latch onto her rosy clit as she leaned back and rubbed herself. Her face was flushed and alive.
"Watch this." Jane began to feel the hot wave of her climax. She throbbed. She watched Mark writhe in helplessness in the chair. His muscles racked as he pulled and gasped.
"Yes. Oh. Yes." Mark's words were a growl.
Jane felt herself climbing. With her wet fingers she seized his shaft and rubbed. Straddling his legs, she moved his cock head up and down against her clit, pushing his tip hard against hers. Mark began to shake. His taut arms and legs shuddered urgently. He would not be able to hold on much longer.
Jane needed him inside her now. She was ready and she wanted all of him, all of his massive cock, his rod inside her, filling and expanding her until she felt full, felt fulfilled. She flipped around and thrust out her ass, then drove herself down onto his hardness, feeling the heat as he slid up into her. His cock was so thick she felt herself open to him wider and wider. He was farther in than he had ever been. She felt him expanding her, her body greedily accepting his massive thrusting heat. He was all the way in. She looked over her shoulder into his gentle brown eyes. His breath caught. He was on the edge. She pounded down onto him, holding her ground, feeling her own rising pulse as she watched him surrender. His cries filled the air. His body arched and strained as he filled her with hot come.
She stood and faced him. Then she leaned her gorgeous breasts in for his mouth to suck. He sucked and pulled until she came. Then she stood back up, looming proudly over him, naked, exposed, and sure of herself. Mark looked up at his amazing woman, her breasts cutting perfect soft arcs, and her lovely face with the studious glasses.
She released him then. They both were freed that night.
I'd fire my whole team and put in a private elevator.
Up and Down
Denise Reardon gazed out her office window to the bustling street below. Absently tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the windowsill, she pondered the lives of those hustling to and fro on the hot pavement. They all seemed so removed from her, part of a life she hadn't experienced in a long time.
Her office suite, located on the penthouse floor, was the envy of everyone in her building, possibly the city. This, coupled with her position, made her one of the most powerful people in the country, man or woman. Being powerful afforded her what she'd always longed for: control.
Lately, however, she found herself becoming bored with this role. It was tedious, provoking fear or jealousy in everyone around her. She could see the ambition and resentment in people's eyes: her assistants and secretaries and doormen ... and of course, Denise thought with a smile, the delivery boys.
Denise returned to her swivel chair and made a call to the bistro across the street.
"This is Miss Reardon on the twenty-second floor. I'll have my usual," she demanded over the speakerphone. "And if you're late, don't expect a tip." Click!
At precisely one o'clock, there was a forceful knock on the door.
"Come in," Denise purred.
Antonio opened the door and sauntered to her desk, pausing to give her a thorough once-over. Denise perched on the edge of her desk. She had eschewed her normal buttoned-up look for a somewhat sheer blouse over an obviously expensive and very lacy camisole. Both were tucked loosely into a slim pencil skirt that showed off her shapely legs. Casually, he deposited her order on the desk, then turned to go.
Denise watched him, preparing to pounce. Just before he reached the elevator, she sprang. The cubicle workers gaped as she darted by.
"You forgot part of my delivery," she announced angrily, joining him in the elevator. The doors shut, shielding them from the prying eyes of the world and cocooning them in a private chamber.
Antonio whipped around and hit the Emergency Stop button, then slammed his muscular arms on either side of Denise's body, trapping her.
"This what you want?" he growled softly, dangerously, and reached up her thigh. With deft young fingers he undid her garter and let the soft material slide down her legs. Denise gasped with yearning. The loss of control was intoxicating.
"Yes," she answered quietly.
In the elevator, their roles reversed. The huntress became the prey. The boss became the servant. She existed at his mercy.
"What was that? Speak louder," Antonio snarled, grasping her hair in a bunched fist and forcibly raising her face until their eyes met heatedly.
"Yes, master," she repeated, slightly louder, her face flushed and her pulse quickening. "This is what I want."
She and Antonio had an understanding. For months, every other Thursday they met this way, two bodies crashing and pulsing. For her it was a loss of control, the chance to feel powerless. She longed to connect with someone who could strip her of her artificial traits and bring her life back to a primal, carnal level.
For him it was a rush to dominate the hottest, richest, and most glamorous corporate woman.
Of course the every other Thursday had soon become every Thursday and then that, too, had changed to be almost daily. She knew people had noticed in her office. She knew they were talking, albeit quietly, behind her back about the deliveries she was getting, about how she changed her clothes each day, about her flushed face and tousled hair after her daily ride in the elevator. She knew they talked, but she couldn't stop herself from calling and it seemed he couldn't stop from answering.
She was considering having a private elevator installed just for her with secure access from her office. She was considering firing everyone and hiring all new staff. She was considering a lot of things, but not at this particular moment, not here, in the elevator, not now, in his arms.
Working quickly, Antonio unfastened his Italian leather belt and whipped it out of his jeans. Denise tensed with anticipation, even as she knew what would come next. Moments later, her hands were bound behind her and she'd been shoved facefirst, into the elevator wall.
"Ohh!" she cooed helplessly, loving every second.
Antonio bit the nape of her neck and bunched her skirt up for easier access. Her soft, bare flesh welcomed his wandering hands. Alternating between gentle and rough caresses, he manipulated her body without shame. When neither of them could take any more, he stepped out of his pants and positioned himself at her swollen entrance from behind. A few shallow thrusts and then he was buried to the hilt, pushing in and out, up and down.
She cried out, gyrating against him until he took charge and held her tightly, making her stay still.
"Be quiet," he ordered crossly, but she couldn't obey; the pleasure was too deep. He smacked her firmly across the ass and her inner walls squeezed around him, deliciously tight. Suddenly, she felt him yank her bound wrists up with one hand. The other snaked around her neck to cover her mouth.
"I said, be quiet!"
She nodded frantically, voice muffled, just hoping he would continue thrusting inside her.
He didn't disappoint. The pace quickened, and he rode her to completion, slumping against her back with relief and exhaustion. Frustrated, she whimpered into his now-slack hand. What about me?
"If you want release, you're going to have to beg," he muttered into her damp hair.
Denise tried to turn in his arms and he allowed it, removing his hand from her lips so she could plead with him properly.
"Please, please, oh, please," she whispered, her entire body shaking with desire.
"Get on your knees," Antonio responded and she obeyed without hesitation.
Slowly she kissed a trail up his leg, pausing to inhale his musky scent blended with the salty sweet smell of her own juices. Amazingly, he was growing hard again. Denise took him in her mouth and gently sucked. As her excitement built he stopped her, hauling her body up his and fitting back inside her. Bracing her against the elevator doors, he took her repeatedly, this time using his hand to massage her between the legs and bring her to an earth-shattering climax. They clung together for a few seconds, breathing hard, then simultaneously pulled apart and straightened their clothing.
Antonio pushed the down button and exited to the street. Denise pressed the penthouse button and traveled back up to the sky.
On her desk, untouched, sat Antonio's delivery. Denise opened it with shaking fingers, her body and skin still tingling from their fevered coupling. Inside was a note: "Drinks tonight?-A."
She grinned. Drinks after work gave her something entirely new to consider indeed.