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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