Chapter 4
Tom Griffith consulted his gold wrist watch while in Swift Corporation's lobby. The limousine service he'd hired was late. Although he had worked several hours longer than usual, re-checking statistical output of their surveillance program, he failed to see evidence of tampering. How B.O.N.E. managed to dissect their schematics went beyond his comprehension. He doubled the security on everything.
The board meeting severely injured Tom's pride. He took every precaution to ensure the integrity and protection of Swift's database. The Internet made it convenient for those pestering hackers to meddle with confidential files.
The pock-faced executive drew a sigh of relief when the black sedan pulled up at the curb. Swinging his briefcase, he shuffled down the steps. The chauffeur, opening the door, somberly nodded to him.
"What kept you?" he snarled.
"I apologize, sir. The traffic—"
Given the time of night, Griffith thought his excuse preposterous. Few cars inhabited the street. "I won't hear of your troubles. If it happens again, I'll speak to your supervisor. There are other driving services available."
"Yes, sir."
The door shut. Griffith expected the vehicle to promptly depart. The driver leisurely walked to the other side, then stalled. Griffith fumed at the amount of time he wasted.
"Let's show some responsibility," he growled.
The door abruptly opened. A stunning brunette in her late twenties climbed inside, displaying a set of shapely legs. Elegantly dressed in a fashionable suit, broach and pearls, she typically resembled a female executive employed at Swift. Her blue eyes glittered at him. A vividly red lipstick accented her smile. "Good evening, Mr. Griffith. You're looking well."
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" he demanded. Her casual greeting appalled him. She had boarded his vehicle without seeking permission. "Who are you?"
"My name is Claudia Blake, and I represent a powerful organization that is in need of your services."
"Make an appointment with my secretary," he snapped. "You have no right to enter a privately licensed automobile. Now, if you'd kindly leave, we'll forget this unpleasant incident."
Claudia smirked, then addressed the chauffeur. "Take us to 100 East Fairview Drive."
Her insolence irritated him. "That is not my destination. I'm to be taken home. Who are you to order my driver?"
The limousine nonetheless eased from the curb and shifted into the main thoroughfare.
Claudia, crossing her splendid legs, reached into her purse and retrieved a metal disc.
"Exactly what is that?" he inquired. "What is its purpose?"
"Why, it's going on you, Mr. Griffith." She pressed it to his forehead.
"God." He clenched his teeth, then shuddered. His eyes swerved upward while he pitched in his seat.
Claudia watched him break into a drenching sweat while she loosened his tie. "That's it, Mr. Griffith. Permit the disc to probe your brain. I'll make you comfortable." His groomed appearance quickly deteriorated.
Her lips curved. She thought the forty-seven year old executive genuinely attractive. Discounting his craggy complexion, he kept himself trim and healthy. Her eyes fell to those big hands with their long, sensual fingers. Hair curled around his wrist and at the base of his throat. She caressed his firm, lank thighs. Perhaps if he rid himself of that condescending attitude, he might enjoy greater success with women.
"Don't try to fight it, Mr. Griffith," she recommended, patting his leg. "Let the disc assert its control. Yield to it."
A low, dissonant sound bubbled from his throat. The electronic impulses provoked them. Griffith's head rolled from side to side. A man of immense vanity, he did not easily succumb. He waged a futile battle. The disc would suck the truth from him.
The chauffeur, navigating them through expressway traffic, paid him no notice.
Tom Griffith eventually settled into a subdued frame. A profusion of sweat trickled from his brow. The surge of moisture did not free the disc. It held fast to his clammy forehead.
Claudia removed a small tape recorder from her purse. Setting it on her lap, she depressed the "record" button. "What position has Swift Corporation taken with respect to B.O.N.E.'s ultimatum?"
"They plan to fight it," he disclosed in a halting tone. "F.U.R., a government agency, is lending assistance."
"F.U.R., eh?" Claudia's lips broadened. "How interesting. They're after us. Who is in charge of the case?"
"Vanessa Storm."
Claudia purred. "Yes, I know of Vanessa. She's rather delicious, don't you agree?"
Griffith merely groaned as the disc's computerized vibrations pierced him.
"I want all newly issued passwords," she said in a no-nonsense tone. "Recite them clearly for me. Also furnish your password logic."
Griffith surrendered every scrap of information requested. The disc made lying impossible. It enabled her to delve into the farthest recesses of his mind and extract its most desirable morsels.
"You're going to one of our plants, Mr. Griffith, where B.O.N.E. can spend some quality time with your analytical brain. You will be released before dawn, stripped of every secret stored in that obstinate head."
Tom Griffith croaked. He was too dazed to comprehend the picture she drew.
Claudia pressed the stop button, then returned the recording machine to her purse. She removed the disc from his forehead. He drifted back to the conscious world. His ordeal with that fiendish device forgotten, he gazed at her. Reproach for her was gone, banished by the bewildering electronic flow. Desire replaced hostility. His black pupils locked with hers. His knees slowly came apart after prolonged eye contact.
A wave of lust went through Claudia. She entertained possibilities not previously considered.
"Yes," she said. Her hand moved up his thigh. "The first thing the brain craves after the disc is finished with it is sex." She palmed the burgeoning shape of his cock. Tom Griffith swelled beneath her grasp, growing larger by the stroke. "Sex," she murmured, rubbing him. "Sex is what you want."
Griffith groaned from her massage. He did not dispute that conclusion. His body fiercely tingled.
She clasped the metal tag of his zipper and drew it down. Inside, she found a long, slender cock shaft. Her hand closed over his warm, rigid cock.
Griffith's eyes grew moist as she fondled him. He observed his dick, jutting from his fly, captured by those spare fingers. Pleasurably, she tugged the skin. Emitting a prolonged gasp, he lengthened in her fist.
"You should be honored, Mr. Griffith," she whispered. "I don't normally do this for anyone. However, you're a very powerful man, and in my opinion, appetizing."
Griffith groaned as she pulled on him. He couldn't remember being so swollen. That woman provoked his inflamed condition. He was too weak to notice if the chauffeur saw them. He was unconcerned if his genitals were exposed to a complete stranger—he only knew what his body intensely craved.
Claudia leaned over and took him into her mouth. Griffith gasped as those warm, wet lips enclosed him. His breathing quickened as he endured her exquisite suck. Up and down they went, sealing them with their bubbly glaze.
Tom steered himself into her oral warmth. He barely contained his gasp of ecstasy. He pushed himself wholly into her face. Claudia managed to swallow him without difficulty. What didn't fit inside her cheeks went into her throat.
She peered at him while sucking. His black spheres glazed over. He gripped her shoulders, savoring the tingling vacuum. He continued to push until cramming his balls to her chin.
"Oh, yeah," he whispered. His Adam's apple rippled. He held himself in the pit of her throat, gulping air. The fog that obscured his vision lifted. He stared at his dick protruding from Claudia's gaping lips. Claudia drew powerfully on him, discerning traces of precum. Slowly, he extracted himself. He groaned as those moist lips clung to his taut skin. Bubbles of saliva dripped from his cock. "Keep doing it."
Meticulously, she licked Tom's balls. He seemed emotionally shorthanded for that jolting reception. He lurched at her initial gyration, then shuddered. Her subsequent slurps caused him to reel. His cock stood tall and throbbing. Claudia disbursed her cascade of lather, one fragmenting whip after another. His taut sac became sticky with drool.
She caressed his trim thighs. Tom trembled beneath her feathery touch. She pulled him to her open mouth and filled it. She dragged his bloated crown across her tongue before lowering him into that pleasing void. "Mmm," she hummed against his trapped flesh. "Mmmmm."
Tom probed her oral heat. He watched his cock sink into Claudia's face. Her sensual lips rolled forward, consuming his rigid shaft. Gritting his teeth, he pushed into that ticklish vacuum and derived its benefits. Sweat trickled from his forehead. Clutching the back of her head, he fed her the sum of his cock.
Claudia took him in a deep, whimpering suck. Her fingertips dug into his bare ass cheeks. Her blue eyes sparkled while she absorbed him. Those lush lips offered superb friction. Back and forth they went, twisting around his lengthy cock.
"Oh yeah," he groaned, plunging far into her mouth. "Suck it."
He sliced into that velvety refuge, letting hot saliva spill over his dick. Claudia accepted him with ease. Her cheeks bulged from her consumption of him. From his perspective, Claudia appeared aroused from getting her mouth fucked. She liked having that part of him stuffed in her face and gladly took large quantities.
"Yes," he said, groaning from her sloppy greeting.
Claudia's flickering tongue stole the air from his lungs. She disgorged herself of him, then trailed his road map of veins. "Keep it going," he muttered, lifting himself from the seat to meet those sucking lips. "Oh, yeah. Suck me. Keep it wet."
Claudia obeyed. Hungrily attached to his pulsating member, she went into a swoon. Licking those pronounced veins, along with the tense skin, kept her busy. She provided him pulse-leaping tongue activity.
His oncoming cock muffled Claudia's sobs. Groaning, he swung into that quivering ring. He listened to the slick sounds of her lips rubbing his slippery thing. Claudia lashed his underside with serpentine precision. Tom, grunting in satisfaction, buried himself to the hilt.
He tracked the disappearance of his shaft. He worked Claudia's cock-loving lips with sure, even strokes. The clamor she made in swallowing him further inflamed him. She streamed to the bottom, furnishing him a shiny coat.
She pushed her nose into his dark nest, inhaling his male scent. The sweat of his balls pinched her nostrils. Her tongue wiggled along his base. She sucked hard, obtaining another drop of his creamy fluid. Tom emitted more precum. She sensed he was on the very brink of jizzing.
"Are you going to swallow it?" he whispered.
Claudia resisted from removing her mouth long enough to provide him an answer. Her prolonged pucker sufficed as a response.
Tom threw his head back. He gasped. "Christ, I'm going to shoot."
She pulled strongly on his aggravated cock, expediting his release. He shuddered against her twisting lips. She grazed his balls with her thumbs. Her delicate rotations provoked him.
"Ughhh," he groaned, spewing into her mouth. "Ughhh. Ughhh. Jesus."
Claudia didn't spill a single drop. Her lips condensed around his spurting cock, milking him. Jism splashed onto her tongue, one profuse squirt after another. She gulped his warm, abundant cum. Judging from the amount he discharged, Tom had been saving it for some time.
She watched his fever-bright expression as he climaxed. Tom's dark eyes went sightless and his jaw slackened as he dispatched his burden. The color in his face diminished as his torrent tapered off.
Claudia eventually detached her lips. Tom's cock remained swollen, stretched to the limit. Her tongue skimmed the red borders of her mouth, cleaning the last of him. He watched while shuddering from the ravages of orgasm.
She righted herself in her seat. Tom caught her wrist. He couldn't separate himself from the pleasure that gorgeous stranger provided. "I want more," he croaked.
Claudia glanced out the window. "We're almost there, Mr. Griffith."
He brought her hand to his glistening cock. "It still burns from your lips."
Claudia comprehended his desire. "You've a long night ahead of you, Mr. Griffith. Relax."
He moved restlessly in his seat. "I can't."
Claudia removed the metal disc from her purse and reattached it to his forehead. Instantly, Tom Griffith went into a swoon. Fresh sweat oozed from his pores. Groaning, he resumed its tug-of-war with his mind.
"You can relax, Mr. Griffith," she sternly said, "and will."