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Chelsea and I met as classmates in grad school. Our first class together was a small course with only a few people registered, and fewer still who regularly attended. It was impossible not to notice the most attractive female in the room-slim, about 6 pleasant inches shorter than myself, with waist-length dark brown hair. Her breasts were small (though not unnoticeable), but she had a fantastic ass that was perfectly emphasized by her tight-fitting jeans. She wore jeans to class most of the time, generally accompanied by a thin tank top that somehow didn’t look slutty while showing a tantalizing glimpse of her waist. Her face was beautiful, and avoided the common trap of somehow suggesting that her IQ hovered somewhere in the vicinity of her age. Chelsea was exceptionally bright, and a hard worker in cl

alsscan modelsStory up to this point: Gina is a non-profit executive at the peak of a wildly successful career. She receives an invitation to interview for the job of her dreams: director of a not for profit aquarium funded by Chicagos wealthiest, most mysterious investor: Jonah Kinsey. We join her as she finds herself alone in Jonahs office, which is a room in a bubble of glass at the bottom of his aquariums enormous main tank. Enjoy! xoxo She drifted to the far wall. A few feet from the glass, she caught a rare glimpse of her reflection in it. She took the opportunity to double check her makeup for smudging. A pencil skirt that hugged her near-hourglass frame perfectly. The three-inch heels that Mr. Stalwart Security Guard despised. Her legs were long and muscular from years of morning pilates and jogging. She had the slightest bump at her belly, a curve so stubborn she’d almost come to love it. It filled her curving frame out. A chest that sometimes drew sidelong glances at the gym, but nothing she ever wrote home about. Just enough shape to, from a distance, catch your eye. Glad I tied my hair back, she reassured herself. Having her waves of brown flowing free sometimes made her seem overly young and innocent. She couldn’t bring herself to cut it short for good. Just like her sliver of tummy fat, she came to love the small things that worked against her. "Imperfections," came a male voice, seemingly from inside her head. Gina started. Her reflection wavered, and then was gone. She turned to the desk again. Had he snuck up behind her, somehow? The desk was empty. "H-hello?" she tried. "I’m on intercom," the voice went on. Smooth, confident, with a lilt at the end of each sentence as if the speaker were on the verge of laughing. Gina was caught up in the timbre of it, how much listening to it was like a running your hand over a polished piece of hardwood. "I’m good with lips—reading them, I mean—but you might want the mic. Second drawer on the left." Following these instructions, Gina found a small microphone, its head no bigger than an earbud. "Can you hear me?" she whispered into it. What is this? Am I in an escape room? "Speak," he said. Gina shuddered, suddenly. The word was a command. The warmth of his voice flared like flames licking out from hot coals. Her thoughts flitted back to the photo and all the power she sensed from it. There was no more guessing at whose voice it was. There was no more imagining how much Jonah Kinsey’s presence could be felt. Even now, through his voice alone, Gina felt pliable. Sweat dripped down her neck. "Like this?" she said at a conversational volume. This wasn’t her business voice. The lower, more assertive tone she relied on to whip boardroom’s into shape had evaporated. In its place, the faint and almost pleading tone of that girl in Principal Seamus’s als angels pics office, her crotch itching. "You saw the imperfections?" Mr. Kinsey said, brushing past Gina’s feeble request for validation. "The glass is full of them. Thousands upon thousands. Scores, scratches, manufacturing blemishes." "I was…" Gina began. Jonah interrupted, seemed to grab hold of her words and lift them out of the way instead of pushing them aside. Gina wasn’t offended. If anything, to have their voices overlap—touch, in a way—was a thrill. What am I thinking? Why can’t I keep my head straight. I haven’t even met the man and I’m… It occurred to her the growing ache in her pussy. The hint of wetness. All from a voice? This is insane. "Counting them is useless," Mr. Kinsey was saying. "But sometimes I try." Forcing her breath to slow, Gina gathered herself up. She had to push the conversation back to business. She had to get to the interview. She had emailed her resume ahead of time. Four pages bristling with qualifications, successful projects, and recommendations from every manner of donor and organizer. I’m the one who got invited here, she reminded herself. Act that way. "I love the facility," Gina said. The work she was putting into regulating her voice was painfully obvious. But that was better than sounding fourteen. "Despite its imperfections?" Mr. Kinsey said. "All the more for it." Gina purred. Her heart fluttered. Where the hell did that come from? That was completely unprofessional. Sweat pooled where her thighs were pressed together. The tickle worked its way toward the growing burning sensation between them. He’ll send me home without even seeing me. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it! "Sit." At this command, Gina moved around the desk and sat in the chair before she realized what was said. He has a mainline into me. He’s als shaved so… so… What was he? So… "Once you sign the document in front of you, you have the job," Mr. Kinsey said. Leaning forward, Gina saw a brief but expertly written contract. How many lawyers pored over this single page? "The work you’re doing is inspiring, Mr. Kinsey," Gina said, her focus fraying again. The girlish voice returned, eager and naive-sounding. He must think I’m some kind of overexcited fan. "Jonah." "Jonah… sure." Heart pounding, Gina als scan tried to read the conditions, the pay, anything. Though her eyes moved across the page, few words made it through. "I—Jonah, there’s no pen." "You’ve read the contract thoroughly?" "I’m… yes, I have. I’d love to come aboard," Gina said. Leaning forward even closer, she squinted. "In case of severe bodily harm, I waive all liability from JONAH F. KINSEY, the aforementioned… though not limited to… in the case of pregnancy… and…" Pregnancy? Severe bodily harm? Am I being hired on as a scuba diver? "I don’t know if I follow it. It’s not really…" "It’s not a contract," Jonah said. "I invited you here to interview. I also saw something else in you. I saw an imperfection." "An imperf…" the word died on Gina’s plump lips. The ache between her thighs grew sharper. Something clicked into place. "Unlike the glass, it’s reparable. It’s the mask you where. It’s the work you do to wall yourself off. I would like to meet you. I want to help that wall crumble. Would you like that?" Gina nodded. Swept away. The words already seeped through her. She could feel warmth trickle into her body, soaking slowly through the cracks that long years of persistent, stubborn playing of executive games had left behind. "This isn’t a job interview," Gina said slowly, trilling each word. "It is," came Jonah’s prompt reply. "Just not for the job advertised. I have a pen in my suite that you can borrow. There’s a key in the bottom right drawer." Gina leaned over, feeling light-headed, and found a bare silver key shining alone in the drawer. "The left cabinet. Unlock it." Gina pushed back from the desk. What am I doing? What does he want from me? Why am I letting him take it? I haven’t even seen him in the flesh and I’m signing away my every right? For his voice alone? Jonah Kinsey’s voice penetrated Gina. It slipped inside her, hooked at the core, and wouldn’t let go. Despite all the protesting thoughts, she knew it was useless. She didn’t care. Her body knew what it wanted despite her brain. She was sliding the key into the padlock and twisting it free. And opening the cabinet door to find a passageway. A long tunnel of glass, boring right through another tank. To reach Jonah Kinsey, she had to go ever deeper into the heart of the waves. One-hundred feet of blue tunnel, no more than a layer of glass and a metal grate floor between Gina and millions of gallons of water. What kind of facility is this? Who can spend this kind of money on a private office? To be surrounded, pressed in on all sides, set Gina’s pulse to pounding. By the time the blue light gave way to the warm orange light of a light bulb, she could hardly breathe. Jonah had invited her into the belly of an ocean. And then, she was with him. He stood at the far end of the small room, more a bubble in the tank than anything. He stood with his back to her and his legs wide, his hands clasped behind them. Examining the glass, his head tilted back slightly, she saw only the top of his head and tip of his nose. Beside him was a small bed, round and covered in a simple white sheet and comforter. On his other side was a metal table, numerous long objects set upon it. At this angle, in this eerily warm light, she couldn’t see what they were. "The bed," he said without turning. "Sit." Gina did so. Her heels made harsh clanks on the metal. The bed was firm. Heat radiated through her, strongest at a few pinpoints where the burn was edging on something more. "Where are we?" she tried to say. It came out in a hoarse gasp. "Lie back." Her question went ignored. She lay down on the sheets and stared up at the bottle blue glass not eight feet above her. A dense, deep blue. But then… a smudge of white. "Do you see it?" At Jonah’s words, she squinted. What the hell is that? A giant fish? If so, it didn’t move like one. Bright white, like sunlight filtering through gaps in the shades. Flickering now and again. "An investment tour," Jonah said. "You might meet them… eventually. Pull your skirt up. I want you to show off for them." "Take off my…" The burn in Gina’s crotch became acute, like a needle. She tried to feel offended that he brought her here just for this, but the resentment wouldn’t come. As she slid her skirt up her plump thighs, a feeling of wonderful helplessness shuddered through her. It doesn’t matter what I want anymore. My body wants what he wants. "Now…" came Jonah’s voice, a growl that grew in hunger by the word. He caught her scent, knew he had her in his grip, and readied to pounce. And he’s going to take what he wants. "Suck on your left middle finger. Get it slick." Her finger was salty. The tremors, strangely, had fallen away. In Jonah’s grip, she was confident. She was in the backseat to his driving. "Pull your panties out of the way." The room was chilly and the cold air nipped at her glistening pussy. She still ran her tongue around her finger, saliva gathering sloppily and even dribbling down from the corners of her mouth. Jonah hadn’t told her to stop or clean herself, so she wouldn’t. "Slide the finger into yourself," Jonah’s voice. The instruction was simple. Gina’s heart pounded in her chest. Maybe it was the depth, knowing a group of studious investors were staring down into the water from above, or the fact that she still hadn’t seen the man who had taken her over… but her blood roared in her head. She pressed her gleaming finger against the wet softness of her pussy. Work made self-care an impossibility. Having an hour to treat herself, or even get herself off… how long had it been? As she filled herself with her finger, Gina’s breath caught. It was like another’s finger, Jonah, entering her. Her heart skipped a beat. "Find your g-spot. Rub the tip of your finger against it. Close your eyes." She followed his instructions to a T. The sensation inside her grew in intensity. One tip of one finger, when Jonah controlled her, had the power of her last three boyfriends combined. All of them, when she thought of it, silly fumblers trying not to lose track of her clit. Squirming on the bed, letting a moan of bottled pleasure escape her lips now and then, Gina worked herself toward orgasm. Her pussy had never been so wet. Juices ran down her knuckles and didn’t stop there. Jonah was bringing something out from deep inside her. The bed shuddered. Gina gasped. Her eyes flung open. The man from the photograph, strong-jawed and pale hazel, almost gold eyes gazed down at her from the end of the bed, where he rested one knee. "Did I let you open your eyes?" he said. In the flesh his voice was a spell. Now, there was no more hesitation. The image of his face burned into Gina’s mind, she shut her eyes tight. Her climax was here. She could feel it. She raced towards the edge of oblivion. Jonah brushed her thigh lightly with the tips of his fingers. The touch was electrifying. The spark traveled through her, magnifying every other sensation ten times over. She was on fire with desire for Jonah, to even crack an eye open and catch a glimpse of him. But she didn’t dare. Not now. With his presence filling the room, standing over her. "Tell me what you want," Jonah whispered. Even then, the command was irrepressible. "I want you to fuck me," Gina squealed. She thrummed with embarrassment, arousal, and lust. Something had to give. The cracks formed under the pressure. Soon, the whole thing would come crashing down. "Good." Jonah took her by the wrist, sliding her finger out of her pussy for her. His grip was powerful and effortless. He flipped her onto her stomach with ease. No fumbling with the zipper of her skirt. It was off and sliding down her legs. Her ass, plump and round, was bared to him. He hooked a finger under her black lace thong and slid this down her curves too, leaving to to stretch between her ankles. He twisted the material up until her ankles were pinched together, and then withdrew something from a pocket. Plastic that bound the panties into manacles. She was tied with her underwear, still glistening with her slickness. "How much will you take?" Jonah said. "All of it," Gina said. She had no time for thoughts or second guesses. She was completely his. "And you signed the contract?" he growled. "No," she said breathlessly. He gave a roar of frustration and slid from the bed. Was it over? Did she have to sign away her liability for him to touch her? "Fuck it." He was on top of her again, consuming her pussy with his mouth from behind. His nose and mouth buried into her thighs, which his stubble tickled. His movements were expert. He found her clit and toyed with it with the tip of his tongue, swirling around it but never taking it straight on. Gina could barely comprehend the sensation. Jonah’s tongue was like fuel on the flame of her lust. Instead of satisfying her, it merely cranked the heat ever higher. She squirmed and moaned with abandon, finally and truly giving in to the sensations of her body. While Jonah danced his tongue on her pussy, he worked one finger in between his delicate strokes. It hooked down into her g-spot, continuing what her own finger had begun. The two sensations paired, built on one another. Her clit and her core, the surface and the depth. "I need your cock," she said, her mouth pressed into the sheets. Her muffled voice caught Jonah’s attention. He pulled away, a long strand of juice spanning in a glimmer from the tip of his tongue to her engorged labia. He spanked her twice, quickly and sharply. Gina’s perfect ass reddened in two handprints, overlapped. "Say it again. Yell it." "I NEED YOUR COCK," she screamed, pulling her mouth from the sheets to say it louder. She could, by just saying the word, taste Jonah’s manhood. As if anticipating this sensation in her mouth, he pulled her from the bed again. Her back pressed against the bed frame and her neck lolling back onto the mattress, her mouth and throat were at a perfect angle to receive Jonah’s nine inches. In the flash of movement, her eyes opened and she absorbed the sight of who she burned for so badly. A black suit, bluish in this underwater room, hugging the broad and lithe frame of a tall man. His chest burst against the buttons of his white dress shirt. That wolfish face stared hungrily down at her, her own juices shining on his lips. Jonah wiped his mouth. He took a step back, leaving her sprawled against the side of the bed. Her makeup streaked, smudged by her face being pressed into the sheets. She wore only her white shirt, a button down that hugged her subtly ample breasts loosely. "Strip." She unbuttoned and pulled her shirt off with frantic, shaking fingers. The nerves returned, unconnected from her master. His confidence was hers. His hunger was hers. All she wanted was his touch again, and she would do whatever he needed for it. Unclasping her bra, her perky tits fell loose from the cups. For a second, Jonah took them in, that curious orange light glowing in his eyes. He was young to be so wealthy. He was quiet, confident. No movement was wasted. He pinched his zipper. Slowly, it opened. With one hand, he unbuttoned his pants. Last was his belt, which his nimble fingers unbuckled in one fluid motion. His pants slid down. His hair was trimmed close to his pelvis, where two sharp lines of a cut adonis belt dived toward his pubis. Under the shirt, he was no doubt rippling with muscle. A dancer’s body, lithe and graceful with not a single wasted inch of body. Here was the source of his power. Total control of his own body. So total and intense that it extended to Gina. The root of his cock was already swelling. As the waistline of his pants fell down, Gina somehow grew even wetter. She wasn’t someone obsessed by size. But the size of this cock on this body and this man. It made sense. It was exactly what she wanted. She needed all of it. Yet it kept coming. His pants were near his knees when the uncircumcised tip was finally exposed. Gina’s mouth watered. She made a slight keening sound. Quit toying with me. With two quick als shaved steps, Jonah had his cock in one hand and the back of Gina’s head in the other. It grew harder by the second in her mouth. She took the tip and worked her tongue under the foreskin, to the sensitive head. Jonah groaned with pleasure, maybe the first unintentional sound he’d made in their time together. Thrilled by his pleasure, Gina swirled her tongue around his thickening cock. She reached up and took it in both hands. She worked the entire shaft with both of them. Like churning milk. "Fuck," Jonah said under his breath. They were beginning to lose control. They were slurring into their desire. Gina sucked his monstrous cock, her jaw already aching to fit it inside, while working his shaft with both hands. She looked up at him with clear, wonderfully innocent eyes, as if asking if this was what he wanted? He gazed back with a slight smirk playing on his lips, of mild pleasure and annoyance. As if he might decide this was all a joke at any second. She took the head of his cock out of her mouth and pressed her face against its rock-hard warmth. She ran her tongue from base to tip. How will this all fit? It’s the size of my forearm, nearly. Before she could come up with an answer, Jonah lifted her onto the bed. She bounced once and fell in a heap of the sheets. He grabbed her and flipped her again, pulling her by the waist into a sharp doggy-style position. Spanking her twice, her ran the length of his cock along the slick softness of her pussy, teasing at what came next. With a sudden gasp, he was inside her. Burying his cock inch by inch into her hungering pussy. It kept going, filling Gina to the limit and then pressing more. Could he really—was the whole—she felt Jonah stop. He was pressed right against her. He shuddered. The whole shaft had fit, right up to the hilt. And now he was sliding it back out. His pumps rapidly in momentum. Each sent bursts of electric pleasure through Gina’s body. She was floating, her g-spot stimulated perfectly by the size and angle of his sex. She reached down between her legs and masturbated herself as she was fucked, bringing herself closer and closer to the edge. Jonah flipped her again, not removing himself, and then had her in a missionary position. Her tits exposed, he reached down and massaged them as he slammed his cock inside her over and over. His teeth grit in focus and intense pleasure, maybe holding off his own orgasm. He was on the edge with her, a hot load of come bubbling inside. "I’m going to come inside you," Jonah said smoothly. Gina nodded. The thought of him reaching climax and als galleries emptying his hot seed inside her almost sent her over the edge right then and there. "Yes, please. Fill me. Ah!" Her breath caught in her throat. He had her throat in his grip, constricting airflow and sending her into a strange sensation like floating. The rhythmic pulses of pleasure beneath her grew even more intense. She was going to explode. Jonah was going to take her off the edge of a bottomless pit, into an endless dive of pleasure. Deeper than anyone had ever been inside her, pushing into her core where words and specific sensations were futile to focus on. She was alive with her pleasure. Simply one lit nerve, alive to reach ecstas
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