The Lifeline

"Oh, God!" I exclaimed as blood flooded my dick again. She ignored my lack of honorific.

"I suspect it would be warm having your cock enveloped between them. How long do you think you could last before you emptied yourself on my lips?" Her tone was nonchalant. My knees were getting weak and I felt a bit dizzy. I closed my eyes and started toward hyperventilation. I was struggling hard to get the image of her cum-covered lips out of my mind. It is extremely difficult to not think of something.

"Oil my pussy now," she instructed. She lifted her knees and parted her thighs. I was working hard to mentally weaken my erection as I re-oiled my hands. I was failing miserably. "I like it really slick because you never know what may slide in there." My cock surged at her words. I almost reached down to empty it. A million dollars - that was what her contribution plus loan extension meant. It was only a million dollar case of blue balls. I bit my tongue, and as tenderly as possible, I massaged the oil on her pussy. I felt every ridge and the give and take of her tender, soft lips. I saw nothing with my eyes closed.

"Use two hands. I want you to give me a nice, slow orgasm," she ordered. I went to work taking deep breaths, holding each for a few seconds, then letting them out slowly. My left hand was busy teasing her hood to excite her clitoris. I slowly inserted two fingers of my right hand into her warm opening. She needed no oil, her torment of me was enough to soak her whole channel. "Yes, that feels nice," she encouraged, "just like that, nice and slow." I wasn't going to make it. Even with my eyes closed, my senses knew where my hands were. I was going to blow my load and never touch my cock. There was only one solution.

"You're a bitch!" I announced and moved my butt toward the head of the table. The whoosh was almost instantaneous. She was waiting for me to crack. This time I gave her what she wanted, I cried out in pain as the crop found my ass. Her hips jerked upward. I yelled again when the second strike landed and I felt her pussy muscles clamp down on my fingers. The crop hit the floor as her orgasm took full control of her body. My left hand was moving rapidly, teasing her bud, as my right forced its fingers deeper. A loud moan echoed out to the balcony and her back arched high. The moan went up and down in frequency as waves of pleasure surged through her body. I struggled to maintain the assault with my fingers.

When her hips dropped, I slowed my left hand to gentle caresses. My right went to a slow internal massage. She sighed loudly and lowered her knees. My need had dropped slightly while I had concentrated on hers. A strange inverse relationship. I carefully extracted my hands as her breathing slowed. I looked down her limp, sated body and somehow found it beautiful.

I reached down and picked up the crop from the floor. Like an idiot, I handed it to her. "I hope Mistress forgives me for calling her a bitch," I said with faux sincerity, "I sensed you needed some...encouragement." I was prepared for a few more well-placed swats. It was worth it for letting her know I had her number. Surprisingly, she took the crop and patted my forearm.

"Your timing was excellent," she said with her warm, inviting smile. I tenderly pushed a sweaty strand of her hair from the front of her face to behind her ear. I had a strong desire to kiss those ruby red lips. I shook my head and looked away. The bitch had been torturing me for well over an hour. I wasn't going to start liking her now. I'll think about liking her on Monday when I am flush a million dollars. Twenty-four hours suddenly did not seem so imposing.

She sat up on the edge of the table. "You will bathe me now," she said as she returned to her controlling self. I was praying my dick saw this as a clinical operation. I was really concerned about how many unsatisfied erections a man can have in one day. Maybe a cock could just give up and never rise again. I was not a fan of this denial shit.

When she stood, her foot went out from under her. I saw the back of her head moving quickly to meet the table. Without thinking, I reached out and she ended safely in my arms. I sighed in relief. The adrenalin pumped into my system made me shake a bit as I brought her to her feet. I didn't even notice we were naked and her breasts had been smashed into me until I had let go.

It was the second time today that I saw confusion in her eyes. For a brief moment, she lost control and I became the controller. I don't know why I felt the need to get in a dig, but dig I did.

"Does Mistress have trouble saying thank you?" I smiled when I said it. It was an ironic smile that deserved a slap. I wanted to push her buttons since she had been dancing all over mine. I received something I didn't expect.

"Thank you, Tony," she stated sincerely. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. It was the type of kiss a mother would give a child. The difference was my mother never had sexy ruby red lips. I found myself leaning into it and wishing it was more than the peck it was.

"Now clean the floor. Your cock drool almost killed me." Her voice was instantly back to bitch. I grabbed a clean towel, and on hands and knees, began to wipe up the little trails of slime I had left around the table. I wondered if one could get dehydrated from losing fluid at this rate. I took my time with her standing behind me. She seemed to enjoy watching me naked as I cleaned the floor. I enjoyed holding off the inevitable return to suffering. Maybe I could do some laundry or something.

When most people take a shower, it involves a tub with an overhead spout or some walk-in four-by-four plastic space. This woman liked her showers. It was a small room with multiple shower heads from two directions and some kind of rain maker hanging like a light fixture from the ceiling. There was a bench, not a seat mind you, but a five-foot-long black marble bench running along one wall. The walls, floor and ceiling were done in patterned tiles - not tiles with patterns, but patterns made from the different colored tiles. These patterns were tasteful with different styles layered in bands. There was inlaid shelving with plastic bottles and scrubbing implements. Natural light from frosted windows made the whole room look inviting.

"Wow," I said, forgetting the 'Mistress' once again. I had never been impressed with a shower before. I really didn't know I could be. I saw no knobs where I expected them to be. Turning the water on and off was a mystery. I had a girlfriend once, many years ago, who really enjoyed making love in the shower. I could only imagine the orgasm she would have in a place like this. I hadn't thought about Betty in years. She left me for a bookkeeper who was a bit more marriageable. The break up was even in the shower after a bit of wet sex. She wanted one more wet romp. I was at her wedding five months later. Nice girl and I truly wished her the best, but showers had never been the same since.

Ms. Sampson stepped into the shower room and went to work on a flat panel embedded in the tiles near the front. Her fingers were a practiced blur as she brought up a series of choices and made selections before I could read what they were. She pushed a digital green button that appeared and the screen faded to black. Water began to rain down from the ceiling in a gentle, but obviously soaking manner. She stood at the entrance, waiting. I shrugged and waited with her. It was maybe fifteen seconds later when I heard the symphony start. It was one I thought I recognized, possibly Mozart. It had to be one of the big composers since my knowledge in that area of music was so limited.

I could only assume the start of the music indicated the water had reached her desired temperature. As soon as the music had started, she swayed into the water. It was almost like she was giving me a little dance. I found it magical and very erotic. My dick was willing to ignore it in the increasing humidity. I moved behind her and into the rain. The water was a couple of degrees warmer than I would think perfect. It was obviously the exact temperature she desired. She soaked her hair under the rain and brushed it and the water away from her face. She grabbed a bottle of something from one of the nooks.

"Hair first," she said without respect. I took the bottle from her outstretched hand. She sat on the end of the bench, her legs extended into the warm rain. I put one knee on the bench so I could scoot closer and was surprised I didn't feel cold marble. The damn thing was heated! I poured an ample bit of shampoo in my hand and went to work. This had been Betty's favorite part. I would massage her scalp under the guise of shampooing, and by the time I was done, she would pin me to the wall in passion. I knew I couldn't re-live my shower romps with this bitch, but I could make her feel some of it.

I worked the shampoo into her hair while paying close attention to rubbing her temples every time my fingers got close. I knew what that could do to Betty. I assumed it was doing the same thing to my demonic temptress. She leaned back into my hands and cooed a bit. Yes, it was affecting her. I liked the power it gave me, the knowledge that at least her nervous system was swooning over me.

"Don't you dare stop," she ordered with a smile. I have little idea what women thought of me outside the bedroom, but none had ever complained about my pampering. I enjoyed the foreplay, the unselfish acts of passion that send a woman into the clouds. I employed those talents here. The longer I made her happy, the shorter time she had to devise more suffering. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I watched her part her legs as she craned her neck into my fingers. Her hand moved sensually between her legs and a moan escaped her lips. I had never seen a woman pleasure herself before, at least not in person. Unfortunately, my cock began to appreciate the show. Unconsciously, I sped up my fingers.

"Slower," she ordered and leaned back to give me a view of her fingers disappearing. I tried not to look, but it was too wonderful to miss. "I brought a woman in here once," she said seductively. I scrunched up my eyes and hoped her story would end there. "She loved the warm water cascading down our bodies. My God, I loved her breasts. They were so firm with swollen pink nipples that just begged to be sucked." She continued her torture while her hand increased its tempo. I was rock hard again, trying desperately to keep my erection from brushing against her. Friction could end it all quickly.

"The things she could do with her tongue." She continued to reminisce. "When she was between my thighs I could feel her tongue curving up inside me, taking me places no man could." 'Fuck me!' I was going to cum. I thought about going out in style, just grabbing my shaft and unloading across the bitch's breasts.

"I have to pee, Mistress!" I shouted. It came to me all at once. She had to let me pee. That was the loophole I was looking for. Give me a bathroom and ten seconds and I would unload. If I could rub one off the next twenty some hours would just float by.

"With an erection like that, it's going to be difficult," she said and smiled knowingly. She turned her body toward me and pulled her fingers from between her legs. They were glistening with her moisture. "You haven't even let me finish; I was going to tell you how wonderful she tasted." With that she sluttily pulled her coated fingers across her ruby red lips. Involuntarily, I groaned. I dropped to my knees and formed fists with my hands.

"Please let me cum," I whispered. My cock was twitching of its own accord. This woman could put me on the edge at will. My company, my livelihood was in her hands. Her hand slapped my shoulder hard. I wasn't going to repeat the begging properly. Fuck her. "You win, bitch," I said and my hand went for my erection. I'd blow it right here in the shower, it was as good a place as any. She moved quicker than I thought possible. Her hand shot down and caught my wrist, not hard, just loosely grasped. Just enough so I stopped.

"No," she said. She sounded desperate. "We'll take a break. I went too far, but a break like the last time will work." There was deep concern in her eyes. She wasn't trying to beat me, she just wanted the control. If I left, I would beat her. My cock surged at the thought. A break was no longer an option, the agreement was going to be void whether I wanted it or not. I stood slowly, a look of anger on my face. I was throwing away a million dollars and screwing up the lives of a lot of people. There was fear on her face.

I grabbed a handful of her shampoo-covered hair and pulled her head back and stepped forward. My lips were inches from those desirable ruby reds. "Please touch me," I growled. I don't know why I asked. A hand, shaking with fear, wrapped around my shaft and I felt my insides surge. Without permission, I merged her lips with mine. They were as full and soft as I had imagined. My hips exploded and I groaned into her mouth. I felt my long-suppressed seed eject from my cock. The relief was enormous, the pleasure beyond measure. I had never had an orgasm so fulfilling. Every part of me surged in blissful unison. Her lips responded as I exploded on her legs. I was in a momentary heaven. There wasn't a portion of my body that didn't tingle in exaltation. It was truly a million dollar kiss.

I broke the kiss when I came down from the clouds. She dropped to her knees in what looked like shock. "I'm sorry, you're way too sexy to ignore," I apologized between deep breaths. I was going to say more, but I had a company to to save. I left her there, staring dejectedly at the floor. I had made it to just short of three hours. She would have to pick someone with more control next time.

<<<<>>>>

I should have felt ill on Monday. I didn't. I had decided to throw caution to the wind. I couldn't come to the new thirty-day deadline with my employees ignorant of their fate. They had done too much to get me this far. It wasn't their fault venture capital had dried up. I called a meeting in the center of the room. The place where we would normally set up tables for Christmas parties or a future going-public celebration. I looked at the questioning faces, sucked up my pride and spilled.

"I was in negotiations this weekend to secure necessary funding. It collapsed and I have thirty days to find more." I had hidden the company's problems well. The surprise was evident on their faces. "I have confidence I can acquire the necessary funding, but should I fail, I didn't want you guys to be out of options. I would love for you all to stick it out, but I know some of you have families and other considerations." I paused a moment to collect my thoughts. I had thought a lot about this on Sunday and it seemed to make the most sense.

"I would appreciate it if you spent half of your day on company business and the other half looking into your options. I will not dock your pay during this time. I can guarantee Friday's paycheck and the one that follows in two weeks. If things go south, the paycheck after that may be swallowed by our creditors so keep that in mind when you make your plans. I will sign any letters of recommendation and be happy to give you glowing references so this experience doesn't tarnish your careers." My eyes watered as I talked about the demise of something I had put so much of myself into. "I am so sorry it has come to this. It is not what you deserve, but you do deserve the truth." I dropped my eyes since I couldn't look at them anymore. It sounded better when I went through it Sunday night.

Sarah hugged me and I felt worse. Tom, our accountant, called out, "I'll be here rain or shine, Tony. Just keep me up-to-date." There was a chorus of agreement which made me feel a bit better.

"Ms. Sampson is back, Mr. Franklin," Sarah whispered and pointed toward the meeting room. I looked up and saw Lydia in her strict business attire, but minus her suited lackeys. Her eyes were almost as red as her lips. Something was amiss with the way she was standing. It looked almost uncomfortable, maybe less powerful. When she saw I had seen her, she ducked into the meeting room and closed the door. I looked back at the gathered faces where confusion and sympathy reigned.

"I'll be right back," I said and headed to the meeting room.

Lydia was slumped in one of the chairs. All her business propriety was sucked from her bones. I didn't think anything would affect this woman. At least not in public.

"I want to try again," Lydia stammered, near tears. Her eyes were red from crying. She was suffering. How the hell did she drop so far so fast?

"Lydia, my company can't be your plaything," I said with compassion, "too many lives are at stake. I am so grateful for the extra thirty days, but I can't hang my hopes on some kind of sexual performance." She reached for the conference phone and dialed.

"Bradford National, how may I help you," the operator greeted.

"Lydia Sampson for Mr. Adams, please," Lydia requested. A pause followed so I took a seat. That was my company's bank, the one holding the loan. I was starting to think my thirty days were about to be rescinded.

"Good morning, Ms. Sampson, what can I do for you?" Mr Adams queried.

"What's the status of the fund transfer?" she asked bluntly.

"It has been completed. One million as requested in the Franklin, LLC account," Adams answered. I was floored. That was five hundred thousand more than agreed.

"Thank you, Doug." Lydia hung up the phone and continued, "The agreement is complete, no strings attached."

"What...I don't...I'm not sure I understand," I stammered like an idiot.

"I screwed up. I want another chance." She was near tears. "Please, Tony. I didn't know I affected you like that. It was just play." She wanted to tell me more. I sensed it and saw it in her eyes. She was afraid. "I..I haven't slept since you left me. I was just so stupid and kept going when you needed me not to." She was incredibly vulnerable.

"I don't think I could do that again," I said honestly, "I go from hating it to loving it back to hating it..." She interrupted.

"See, there are parts you loved. We can do those again." This didn't sound like the woman who had me on my knees begging for relief.

"I'm confused, Lydia." I was whispering to get her to lower her voice. I wasn't sure how much carried outside the room. "You only seemed to like it when I was suffering." Her head fell into her hands and then dropped to the table. She started sobbing. I walked around the table and sat next to her. I wasn't sure if my arms would help, but I couldn't just let her cry into the table. I pulled her into my arms and laid her head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm just not built for what you want."

"But you loved me," she sobbed in my ear. I was getting concerned about her mental state. I wasn't sure how she drew love out of the few hours we spent together. It was pretty much a one-way street of anguish in my book. There were a couple of pleasant pit stops, but they were short lived.

"Lydia." I pulled her head from my shoulder and looked into her bloodshot eyes. "I never told you I loved you."

"Not in words. With your hands. No one has ever touched me like that." She got a dreamy look on her face. "That massage...and when you washed my hair I thought I would melt away. Why would you do that if you didn't love me?" She was serious.

"You ordered me to," I answered. She looked confused, like she was trying to see my meaning and couldn't put two and two together.

"But...but you didn't have to do it like that," she said slowly. I could almost see the wheels in her mind turning. "I saw how aroused you got. You never even hit me and you were so...ready." Hit her? Why would I hit her? She was hitting me. I pushed away from her a little bit which made her eyes panic.