The following story is fictitious, of an explicit and adult nature. This story is not meant to be viewed by anyone under the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18, offended by adult material or such material is barred by the standards of your community, please leave this page now.
Note: To fully understand this installment in the series, please read "Working Off His Debt" before reading the following. Thank you.
Monday
Gerry Flaherty dragged himself from the subway, three blocks down Lexington Avenue, to the glass high rise that he may as well have called home for the past ten years. Today was another steamy New York City summer's day. Not even eight forty-five in the morning, and the naked sidewalk temperature was already eighty-six degrees.
As he passed through the revolving glass door and made his way beyond the guard's desk, the steamy caustic summer air was rapidly replaced by the recycled refrigeration of a modern office building. Gerry shivered as he dashed for the elevator to the forty-fifth floor.
A broker by trade, Gerry made the transition from the big brokerage house to being an analyst at a small, private, venture capital and hedge fund management group. Gambling was part of Gerry's nature. His job allowed him to gamble with other people's money. But in his spare time, he gambled with his own money. Sports betting. While he had middling success with the investments that he made on Wall Street, Gerry was not so lucky when it came to football, basketball and baseball. That is why the women in his life were now for Tommy Desalvo to use as he pleased.
"Hey, Ger. When can I get a look at the numbers on Great Basin Mining? My guy in London is being a real dickhead", inquired Robin Gunnerson with great anticipation.
"Great Basin? I can have those numbers for you before lunch."
"Cool."
Gerry opened the door to his office, set his briefcase sown beside his desk, sat in his padded leather chair and logged into the company's computer system. He called up the file on Great Basin Mining and went to work. He never even noticed when eleven thirty rolled around, but he was just about ready to send his work product to the printer.
Gerry fished his cell phone out of his pocket as he clicked on the "print now" button. "Home", he commanded the small, silvery cell. After a brief silence, the phone rang ... and rang ... and rang.
"Hello?" A man's voice snarled, followed by the man briefly clearing his throat.
"Hello?" Gerry inquired, startled.
The man began to chuckle. "Is that you, Gerry boy?"
The cobalt and salmon light of reality's dawn broke over Gerry's consciousness. It was Tommy Desalvo. Tommy had answered his home phone.
"Can I speak to Megan?"
"Megan's a little busy."
"Well, can you call her to the phone, please?"
"Well, Gerry boy, she's right here, if you want to know the truth. Her mouth is full at the moment, and we all know that it's impolite to talk with your mouth full. She'll call you back."
After that, only silence. The call ended.
Visions swirled through Gerry's consciousness. A dizzying torrent of images. Gerry imagined himself as Tommy.
He lay in the comfortable pillow top bed. No pants, his hands lazily folded behind his head. He felt the warmth of Megan's body between his knees.
Megan held his cock out of the way, and he felt her searing hot slick tip of her tongue dancing over his sack. First along the side of one of his balls toward the crease of his groin, but then feeling her tongue's metamorphosis from liquid to rigid, outlining the contour of his balls.
Megan slowly snaked her tongue up the underside of his shaft and licked the head like an ice cream cone. She took the head in her mouth and just held it there, fluttering the tip of her burning tongue under the head. His cock began to swell in her mouth.
