Chapter 3

I look over to the wardrobe people in the room, they aren’t paying attention to this, Christina’s sexual antics must be normal to them. Knowing her by this point, I can imagine her walking around nude all the time, doing all sorts of things to her breasts. I look back at the nipple, the stream is slowing without any additional stimulation, and it’s leaking down her body.

“Does that hurt?” I ask.

“It feels nice. Maybe someday you’ll have the pleasure of having milk.”

“Someday would be nice.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. We’re supposed to have a business relationship.”

“Without squeezing grapes, you can’t have wine.”

Christina guides my head forward with the gentleness of a loving doctor, except she’s guiding me toward her breasts. The thought of sucking on her, or even touching her boobs, is a bizarre dream. Even with handshakes or hugs, touching her always seemed like touching fire.

My lips graze the skin of her breasts, she pulls me closer, and I can smell the sweet lactate of her milk. Her bound breasts are like warm pillows. Before giving a second thought, I start sucking the nipple and milk pumps from her breast again and I swallow everything that shoots. The sensation is thrilling, my heart pounds, and my legs are clenching together feeling her erect nipple on my tongue.

“Women should be comfortable exploring what makes them feel good. So keep going, if this empowers you, then embrace it.”

She pulls my head tighter, having my face mesh against her luscious tits, which makes the milk gush into my mouth and cheeks. I gulp faster, my first oral interaction with breast milk, and a woman’s breast in general, and I lick and suck the way I’d want it done to me.

“You were delicious in that photoshoot,” she says. “Your shyness added something. Seeing people do their first nude shoot always gets me wet, hope you don’t mind hearing that. I was very proud of you.”

If she only knew what kind of pressure and torment I went through.

She adds, “Later that night I thought about you… oh god… hope you understand.”

Christina guides me to her other breast and I start sucking again, circling my tongue around the nipple, gulping down her sweet milk. I think about her words while nursing. Flattery is an understatement. How should one feel when being told that a pop star had masturbated while thinking of you? That you were flown out to give oral service, because that’s exactly what she planned. She could have emailed me the pictures and been done with it.

I can hear her breathing while she’s stroking my hair in a loving way. I’ve read before that certain women can orgasm with the right nipple stimulation. The more she breaths, the harder her nipple feels in my mouth, the more I’m convinced that’s the case with her. She’s going to cum right here while I’m nursing on her tits.

Her breathing becomes erratic and she trembles from the pleasure. I’m stuck in the most peculiar position of whether to give her an orgasm or not. I can hear my boss screaming inside my head, that of course I need to keep going because Christina is our main partner.

So I keep going, it’s best for business and we’re both in the zone. Her breast bondage and my virgin lips are a match made in heaven. I keep sucking on her nipple, her body is trembling, her angelic voice makes a low murmur.

Christina taps me on the shoulder, which is a signal for me to stop. I pull my mouth away, wipe my lips with the back of my hand, then stand upright to look at her. She looks more relaxed than I’d ever seen her. A good orgasm will do that and her nipples are still leaking.

“How did that taste?”

“Surprisingly creamy and sweet,” I say.

“Knew it would be your thing.”

Both stylists return with the modified dress, unfazed by what just happened. They’re used to this diva behavior. They’re unbothered by the bound breasts and leaking nipples and orgasm. Maybe they also orally service the pop star. It’s the world of celebrity, my boss told me last week, and I guess I’ll have to get used to it.

Make or break situations are always terrifying. It’s the most nerve-wracking moment of my life, more so than the photoshoot, except this time it’s taking place in the conference room. Jonathan, our brand manager, is presenting slides on different products along with the marketing campaign.

Beads of sweat form beneath my armpits because I know what’s coming. As part of my job, I’ve helped Jonathan craft this presentation. In hindsight this feels like giving ammunition to my enemies. We’re not enemies, of course, it’s just an expression. A form of self-destruction is happening.

And there it is — the next slide — a picture of me. No face, no body. Just a close-up shot of labia from a standing position. Filters and photoshop were used to make the image smooth. The tension in the room is palpable because everyone knows whose pussy that is. No one turns to look at me, sparing me of added shame. A few people twitch, squirming in their seats, resisting their urge to look at my face to see how fucking embarrassed I am.

The next slide is worse. A black and white image of labia from when I was laying down with my legs spread. Christina’s milk droplets can be seen in the image, but nobody knows it’s milk except for me. There’s the company name and logo on the image, but make no mistake about it, the labia is the star of that image.

By the end of the presentation, the lights come on, and I’m sweating bullets beneath my outfit. A few eyes glance in my direction and I force myself to smile, pretending everything’s cool. This is my new work-life reality. Is it worth the extra pay and job security? You be the judge. For what it’s worth, the last few weeks, I’d never masturbated so much in my life.

People have random conversations while getting their stuff and leaving the conference room, but Gabby tells me to stick around. For whatever reason, she doesn’t look happy, more like annoyed, as if I’ve done something to offend her. It’s a perplexing gesture given my sacrifices for this company.

Everyone has left. We are alone here.

Gabby steps out of her heels, then she undoes her bottom while facing away from me. She’s undressing in a dispassionate way, like she’s at home and no one’s watching, or at the doctor’s office, ready to get the exam over with. She strips her bottom garments until bare, her butt looks larger without any clothes to cover it, and when she turns around I see a trimmed bush.

Her expression is still annoyed, which is strangely hot given that she’s standing there barefoot with her pussy showing. She sits bare-assed on the conference table, legs spread.

“Christina requested that I do this,” she says.

“Let’s not play dumb. I have a lunch meeting soon.”

It takes a second to realize what this is about. Whatever the case, the last thing we need is someone walking in here and catching us like this. I stand in front of my exposed boss, her pussy is wet, her pubic hairs freshly trimmed, as if preparing for this.

After a moment’s hesitation, I get on my knees for my boss. I can smell her aroma. I know she’s aroused, even though she can’t bring herself to look at me, with her head facing the other direction. I wonder if this is Gabby’s first time, like it’s my first time eating pussy. It’s dominance and submission at the same time, in the office space with my boss — something about the situation lights a fire within me.

Licking her wet folds is illuminating. She tastes good and her fluids stream down my tongue. I wonder how our relationship will change after this. I wonder if she’ll be hostile toward me, or give me favoritism. Will she continue using me, or is this a one-time deal? The truth is, this is business mixed with pleasure, and we’re both at the mercy of Christina’s diva desires.

Gabby cums into my mouth and I have the confidence to swallow because I’d already gone nude and drank breast milk. Once you reach a certain point in your sexual experience, anything becomes possible, for better or worse. Her cum is a slow stream of thin fluid and her body trembles.

When she gets on her knees and returns the favor, it feels right and wrong at the same time. This is my boss, after all. The woman who commands any room and built this company from the ground up. She was the one who hired me, now she’s sticking her tongue inside me and I can tell that’s a blow to her pride. Giving oral sex to her youngest employee must be demoralizing, but she hums and moans while doing it. I want to inquire later if she has experience doing this, assuming she ever wants to discuss this with me.

I cum into her mouth, she flinches, but she doesn’t stop. I resist the urge to do something romantic like rubbing my fingers through Gabby’s hair, but that seems too personal. She might take it as an insult. To be honest, there’s something so very deviant about having a reluctant boss sucking you off for the sake of keeping a VIP business partner happy.

Gabby fixes her outfit and she avoids eye contact. It’s super awkward, a different kind of awkward than during the nude photoshoot, because at least that was with like-minded people. She grabs a tissue and wipes her hands and mouth.

“Have a good lunch,” she says.

“I will, thank you.”

She tries to maintain professionalism and composure as she heads for a lunch meeting. I hang around the empty conference room for a moment to clear my head and relax my legs. My sex still tingles. Imagining my boss having lunch while the taste of my fluids are still in her mouth is oddly satisfying.

I get my phone and send Christina a ‘thank you’ text message.

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