​“You’ve got exclusive rights to me, baby,” Clark smiled and winked in a way that actually looked movie star sexy.
She laughed, amused at this more light and humorous side to Clark. While yesterday had been full of tender love-making to nurse her wounds, Clark’s dominant side reared its head up again this morning. Speaking of head, she gasped when the tip of his hardness grazed between her thighs. With a sharp inhale, her pulse quickened and her eyes began to lid with lust.

Clark let go of her wrists and kissed his way down to her belly. Anticipation spiked her arousal, soaking a path for his erection. She fisted his hair, intense desire urging him lower but the handsome devil licked and nipped her navel instead and took his own sweet time.

His hands let go of her wrists and bracketed her hips. Lower his lips moved. He was a breath away when the air went cold and his head lifted with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Whose pussy is this?”

Mariah’s eyes widened. Would he dare withhold stimuli if she erred in the answer? Oh, god, she was already losing her mind. At another time she might have playfully replied in error. Right now, he got her so worked up that she didn’t want to talk and only wanted to get on with it.

Gulping, and hoping to hell the talking would go fast, she answered, “Yours. It’s yours. This is your pussy.”

“Right answer.” He nuzzled into her slick folds, exercised his talented tongue, and made mad circles around her tender bud. Desire only mounted at the wicked tango, the pleasure so intense she bucked and tried to push him away.

To no avail. His hands had a steady grip that pinned her legs down, kept them from squeezing him and bucking him off of her. If anything, her ministrations only fanned the flames and redoubled his salacious efforts and left her moaning for more.

“Please, Clark!” Mariah begged, twisting his hair like a wild animal. “Inside—please!”

Oh, god. He didn’t even listen to her as he released her sex, then nuzzled and nipped her inner thighs.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Fuck me already!”

​Clark snapped away and grinned at her, amused. “My pussy is quite bossy.”

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Mariah stepped through the door and saw a corridor of security monitors with live feed. The sound of her heels reverberated through the hall. Farther along, Britta stepped through another door and kept it open for her. Mariah quickened her pace and caught up to Britta, who closed the door promptly behind her. Her eyes widened when she scanned the room. The place would have looked like a lounge space, if it weren't for the four poster bed at the far corner.

Mariah had assumed that they would step into a more private conference area. This was way too private of a room for a discussion over to-do items, even if the current campaign had to do with further extending the reach of the company's new medical line. They could have stayed in Britta's office, couldn't they? A foreboding wave of nausea gathered in her belly. Just what did Britta have in mind?

“Let me see what's still on your list,” Britta said.

Mariah handed over her clipboard. Britta took one glance, then set it down on the kitchenette counter before opening a drawer and extracting a couple of items, including what looked like doctor's headbands with much shorter straps.

“I'd like to product test these,” Britta said, handing the mini-headbands over. “Wear them on your wrists so that the discs face out and are over your pulse.”

Mariah inspected the product, which was heavier than she expected. The straps were about two inches wide and felt and smelled like leather. Attached to each strap was a thick circular metal disc with a flat surface that accounted for the weight. She secured each strap to her wrists and looked up at Britta expectantly.
Britta walked her over to an armchair near the coffee table and padded the back of the chair. “Sit and rest your arms so that the discs face the ones built into the chair.”

At first glance the armchair looked like any other, except the wooden arms did have circular discs the same size as the ones she had on her wrists. Unlike the flat surface found on the discs strapped to her wrists, the built-in discs in the chair had a depression in the center and a black ring outside of it. Mariah sat down on the leather cushion and positioned her wrists in place.

“Keep them there,” Britta said. “For this exercise, I'll need to blindfold you as well. No objections?”

​Mariah swallowed, the feeling of dread rising in her stomach. Just what kind of product testing was this?

​Check out other Masturbation Monday posts.

Kaylee tightened the grip on her briefcase as she approached the tall medical office building. She was here, fifteen minutes early. After taking a long deep breath, she entered through the double doors into a large lobby and instantly felt small.

Small town girl in a big city. Who the heck had she thought she was to leave that life and trade it for this one?

Oh, yeah, because she couldn’t have pursued what she wanted—in work AND in her personal life—as if she had any of either lately.

“May I help you?” asked a security guard behind the massive desk.

“I’m looking for Dr. Monica Halverson’s office?”

Drat. Quit sounding like a tourist.

But she was a tourist. Kind of. She didn’t belong here. Yet. But she’d make this city her home, her new sanctuary.

“Fifth floor,” the security guard said after checking the digitized screen before him. “Room 502.”

“Thank you.” Kaylee smiled stiffly at the guard and proceeded to the elevators. The thing about medical buildings in the city was that no matter how large, there always seemed to be only two cars that took forever to get there. At this rate, she would only be ten minutes early.

When the car doors opened, Kaylee stepped inside and pressed the key for the fifth floor. Right before the doors shut, an attractive woman (almost thirty?) in a Speedo top and sweatpants entered. She had a strip of spiky brown hair, kind of like a short mohawk, that was dyed blond at the tips. The rest of her hair, which was the same length as the spikes, hung naturally with that soft butch look.

Was she a dyke?

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