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Post by Bobby Slais on Jul 1, 2007 6:48:24 GMT -5
Maxine Meriwhether is finally on top, corner office, mahogany row, CEO. She knows the envy of the corporate ladder, if wood could only feel like the men she used as steps on the climb up.
Her custom-made desk has arrived. Maxine is obsessed by it, stroking the corner pillar grasping its girth, remembering the friction she had caused squeezing underling’s heads so tight, to prevent their climax, watching with enjoyment as their balls swelled blue.
Standing in front of it, she gazes upon the tempered glass, inlaid, center-top, now reflecting her glazed eyes peering back, the thick glass, crystal-like and shining, a symbol of her power. She is at the peak as she slips her panties off, black satin with lace trim, kicked to the corner.
Hiking up her business suit skirt, she mounts the desk-top, icy-hot on her ass at first she expertly manipulates the pain legs spread out, her Victory pose, fully sprawled, lust lips pressed on glass. This kiss of glass is exhilarating, overwhelming.
They are all below her now, looking up to see ultimate joy ooze from inside her, draining toward the edge of the desk. Maxine has separated herself, untouchable.
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Post by robertrwoods on Jul 6, 2007 13:43:10 GMT -5
It's been said that the orgasm obtained by welding power is even more satisfying than sex. I love how you shaped this "it's lonely at the top" satire. Total separation from human-kind being the ultimate climax.
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