A Dish Best Served Naked Ch. 01

Jim was a brilliant man, there was no way I was going to trick him or beat him at his game unless I got his blood flowing somewhere else. So far, if I had been tape recording this conversation to use as evidence in my sexual harassment case, all that the court would hear was that I lied in my job interview, admitted to having sex at my old job, and I suggested that I masturbate for him. I needed to put the odds back in my favor.

Jim was leering lustfully at me now, but then looked confused when I walked around the front of his desk and did not picking up the vibrator. "We need to trust each other," I said, "so I will show you what I did to get fired from my last job. Undue your pants."

I wondered if Jack had told Jim what kind of sex I was having at my old job, but if the idea that my new boss was going to get his cock sucked was a revelation to him, he hid it well. He only pulled his pants and boxers down far enough to give me access, for which I was grateful. I didn't want to see more of his hair, pasty body than I had too.

I knelt in front of him, my feet extending back under his desk. I leaned forward and reached for his cock with my hands. He leaned forward and tried to look down my blouse, by my modest attire offered him no cleavage. "Aren't you going to take something off?" He ended the question with a sharp intake of breath as my slender fingers caressed his cock.

"Do you want to see what got me fired, or not?"

"I, uh, wh-" he struggled as I slowly rubbed him up and down. He finally just nodded.

Sure enough, his brain had gotten him this far, and now the reverse of blood flow left him a stuttering moron. Lucky for me, my brain was still working.

His cock was not that big, maybe five inches, but his sac was huge. It looked like he had a hairy throw pillow attached to his crotch. I switched to using my left hand to stroke him and reached under him to pull out his ball sac with my right. I moved them around in my palm like a card shark playing with his chips.

Jim's head rolled back and stared at the ceiling, moaning. I leaned over his cock then, and drooled a mouth full of spit on him. I kept up my let handed motion, but moved my index finger to curl over the top of his dick. I moved it side to side as the rest of my fingers stroked him up and down. I was sure this would make it feel like he was inside my mouth and my tongue was flicking back and forth.

He responded as if that was the case, anyway, moaning even louder and leaning further back in his chair. With his mind completely unplugged, I kept stroking him, adding more saliva to ensure the illusion, while my right hand snaked back to the top of the desk and felt for the handcuffs.

Never leaving his cock or slowing down, I brought the cuffs in front of me and looked at them. They looked real enough, but they were both closed with no key. Applying pressure to one cuff, I saw that it had an infinite adjustability. By closing it in on itself, the locking half of it swung all the way through and came around the other side, now open. I did this as silently as possible to the other cuff as well. I could have played the tuba, and it would not have disturbed my new boss.

I reached under his sack again, lifting and pulling, and careful no to let the cold metal of the handcuffs touch him until it was too late. I needed to hurry because his leg was starting to shake, and with a sac that big, I would get drenched.

I squeezed him extra hard, and he responded, standing up a bit from the chair and arching his back. I slid the open cuff under his sac and quickly closed the top latch tight, surely pinching some skin. This did startle him and he finally looked down to see what I was doing. I didn't give him time to react, though and secured the other open end to a brace under his chair's armrest.

"What the-" he started, but I pushed him away before he could grab at me. He rolled several feet until he bumped up against a low book shelf along the back wall. His immediate reaction was to spring out of his chair, but he felt a very painful pull when he tried to get up.

He spent a few uncomfortable moments examining the cuffs, but there was nothing he could do. The cuffs on his dick were behind his balls, and those testicles were way too big to work the cuffs off. Even with the lube on his desk, he wasn't going to have any success. He was a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar, but the only way to let go of the cookies was with painful surgery.

"I don't have the keys!" he shouted at me.

This I hadn't known. Who has handcuffs but not the keys? "Where are they?" I asked.

"At home," he replied, rolling his chair toward me with his feet. I moved to the other side of the desk.

"Well then call your wife and have her bring them to work for you," I said with little sympathy. "It would be good for you to show a little vulnerability."

"You fucking bitch!" he shouted.

"Watch that language," I said. "I could sue you for that."

That comment got him to shut up quickly. I had expected the cry of, "You're fired!" to come from him, but now his brain was working. He couldn't fire me for handcuffing his cock to his chair. I would take him to court, and while I would have to explain why I lied in my job interview, he would have to explain why he had taken his dick out of his pants.

I turned to let him mull it over, not concerned that he might not get free for a while. He had a staff meeting in 15 minutes. He would figure something out. I opened his door and left it open as I walked into the hallway.

Terry was pretending to busy himself by the fax machine, not close enough to the president's office to ease drop, but close enough to catch me when I left. He saw the rather smug look on my face and must have heard Jim scream, though perhaps not exactly what he said.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I owe you dinner. Pick a place."

"He did?" Terry was shocked. At that moment I wasn't sure whether he had expected to lose and had only made the bet as a ruse to take me on a date. Either way, he had been right.

"Go see for yourself," I said.

Terry's brain must not have been working either, because he did go to see. Jim was halfway to the open office door, scooting in his chair, his handcuffed and still very erect cock plain to anyone who looked in on him.

"Holy shit!" Terry exclaimed, and then quickly shut the door. He turned to look at me in amazement, but I just shrugged and walked back to my desk. I was sure Jim would find a way to get revenge on me, and I would probably have to do something to show my vulnerability, but for now, I just laughed to myself.

Continued in Part 2