It had only been a few days since that appointment at Jake’s clinic, but the rush still hadn’t faded. I thought the feeling would cool off, that I’d slip back into my good, controlled self. But before it could, another spark ignited.
I was in the office restroom, smoothing down my pencil skirt in the mirror, giving myself one last check. At 38, eight years married, I still took pride in looking sharp, hair in a sleek bun, makeup subtle but flawless, hazel eyes calm and focused.
As team leader for the lingerie division at Apex Imports, I’d earned my corner office by outsmarting men lwho thought volume equaled authority.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
A text from Richard: My office. Now. Urgent.
That familiar flutter started low in my belly. Richard didn’t throw around “urgent” lightly. I grabbed my tablet, took a steadying breath, and headed to the executive floor. His door was cracked open. I knocked once and stepped in. He was pacing, phone in hand, hair slightly mussed, rare for him.
“Lay, thank God,” he said, motioning to the chair.
“Close the door.”
I shut it and sat, tablet balanced on my thighs.
“What’s wrong? You look like we just lost Milan.”
“Worse, or better, depending.” He dropped into his chair and leaned forward.
“Victor’s coming in this afternoon. Flying in from New York, no heads-up.”
My heart kicked hard. Victor, the buyer for V Luxe. The account we’d been chasing for months. Landing it would change everything.
“Today?” I kept my voice even, even as my mind raced.
“He say why now?”
Richard shook his head.
“Just that he wants to move fast on the new lines. He’s zeroed in on the stretch-silk collection, the adaptive prototypes.”
Pride warmed me. I’d lost sleep for weeks perfecting that deck, every slide, every number.
“Of course I’ll be there. What time?”
“Two. Conference room A. Marketing’s bringing the three main samples.” He rubbed his temple.
“This could be it, Lay. V Luxe doesn’t waste time on small fish. If we nail this…”
“We will,” I said, sounding surer than I felt.
Richard gave me a rare, genuine smile.
“Good. Go prep.”
I stood, adrenaline already buzzing.
“On it.”
In the hallway I checked the logistics email, samples confirmed. I went straight to the conference room, set up the projector, ran the slides in my head. Market trends, fabric tech, margins, locked in. Victor was notorious for obsessing over quality, but I knew these pieces inside out. The new stretch-silk moved like nothing else: buttery soft, breathable, and quietly devastating.
By 1:45 the room was perfect. Fresh coffee on the credenza, slides loaded, three mannequins in the corner wearing the prototypes—midnight black lace, soft ivory, bold crimson. The fabric caught the light like it was alive.
At exactly 2:00, Richard walked Victor in. He was taller than I’d pictured, mid-40s, suit cut sharp, dark hair neat, those piercing blue eyes. His handshake was firm, gaze direct.
“Victor, this is Lay, our division lead,” Richard said.
“Pleasure,” Victor said, voice smooth and warm.
We sat. I clicked to the first slide, drew a quiet breath, and began. The presentation flowed better than I’d dared hope. I walked them through the numbers—market growth, fabric innovation, comfort metrics, projected margins.
Richard jumped in with financials when needed, but mostly stayed back. Victor listened hard, leaning in, blue eyes flicking between the screen and me. He asked sharp questions that proved he’d actually read our proposal. By the time I hit the final slide, rollout timeline and exclusive terms, the room felt electric.
When I finished, Richard exhaled.
“So, Victor. Thoughts?”
Victor leaned back, fingers steepled, a small smile playing at his mouth. He didn’t answer right away. Instead he looked at the mannequins.
“Impressive,” he said finally, voice low.
“The numbers are solid. Designs elegant. But in this industry, numbers and static displays only tell half the story.”
He stood and walked to the mannequins. Richard and I exchanged a quick glance. This was good, he was engaged.
Victor stopped in front of the crimson set, gently running the fabric between his fingers.
“This adaptive stretch-silk is the differentiator, isn’t it?” he said, still not turning.
“Feels luxurious. But on a mannequin…” He turned and looked straight at me.
“It’s hard to truly appreciate how it moves with a real body, how it breathes, hugs curves that actually shift and breathe.”
My stomach tightened. I knew where this was going. Richard cleared his throat. Richard shifted uncomfortably beside me, clearing his throat.
“I’m sorry, Victor, but that won’t be possible today. We had to put this presentation together on extremely short notice, so we simply weren’t able to book any fit models.”
Victor’s brow lifted just a fraction, his voice calm but carrying a quiet challenge.
“So there’s truly no way to see the pieces on someone today?”
Richard’s eyes flicked to me, a quick, almost pleading glance, one eyebrow raised in silent question. I answered with a small, confused frown, Me? Really?
Richard exhaled softly, offered Victor an apologetic smile, then turned to me.
“Lay… I know this is completely out of the blue, but would you be willing to try them on? Just so Victor can get a sense of how they look on a real woman who actually works in the field.”
My pulse hammered. Part of me wanted to shut it down, keep it strictly professional. But the part that had woken up on Jake’s exam table stirred again, curious, reckless. And deeper still was the ambition: I wanted this deal. I’d sacrificed too much not to close it.
I met Richard’s eyes, then Victor’s. Victor looked respectful, almost clinical.
“I want V Luxe to see exactly what this fabric can do,” I said, voice steady.
“If trying them on helps… I’m in.”
Victor’s smile warmed, grateful rather than triumphant.
I stood, smoothing my skirt, trying to ignore how hard my heart was pounding. I took the three sets off the mannequins—black, ivory, crimson. My fingers brushed the silk, and that quiet thrill from days ago flickered again.
One at a time, I told myself. Just business. Just the deal. I walked to the side door. Behind me, Victor’s voice was low and satisfied.
“Let’s start with the midnight black.”
I stepped out in the midnight black first. The lace bra cradled my heavy breasts, the sheer floral pattern barely concealing my dark areolas, nipples already stiffening against the delicate fabric. The bikini panties hugged my pussy mound snugly, the wide front panel pressing softly against my smooth outer lips, outlining them just enough to hint at what lay beneath. The cheeky back rode high, exposing the full, rounded lower curves of my ass, plump and firm, the kind that jiggled subtly with every step.
Richard gave me a quick nod. Victor stood with arms loosely crossed, gaze sharp but controlled, lingering on the way the lace strained over my full tits and the inviting swell of my hips.
“Beautiful,” Victor said, voice a touch huskier.
“The black makes the lace pop. Just walk for me, Lay, normal stride, across the room and back. I want to see how the fit looks when you’re moving.”
I nodded and walked. Heels clicked softly, hips swaying, my ass cheeks shifting and bouncing lightly under the cheeky cut. The lace whispered over my skin, teasing my hardening nipples, brushing my inner thighs, the front panel rubbing insistently against my pussy lips with each step, sending faint sparks of heat.
When I returned, Victor’s smile was small, eyes darker.
“Excellent recovery. Thank you. Next, the ivory.”
The ivory set was silkier, almost glowing against my skin. The balconette bra lifted my breasts high, the low cups leaving the creamy tops spilling over, thin silk doing nothing to hide my thick nipples as they poked visibly through. The low-rise panties had delicate straps over my hips, the small front triangle clinging to my pussy mound, already dampening slightly as it traced the seam of my outer lips. The cheeky back left the plump lower halves of my ass completely bare, the flesh soft and inviting.
I stepped out. Richard and Victor were both standing now. Richard gave an encouraging nod but quickly averted his eyes. Victor’s gaze traveled slowly, down my neck, over the heaving swell of my tits, the dip of my waist, lingering on the way the silk molded to my round ass cheeks.
“Stunning,” he said quietly, voice dropping.
“Already far superior to the mannequin. Turn slowly?”
I turned. The silk slid over my skin, the crossed back straps framing my exposed ass, the cheeks parting just enough with the motion to tease the shadowed cleft between them.
Victor inhaled softly.
“Exquisite work. Now walk, normal steps.”
I walked. The fabric tugged and released with each stride, brushing my clit lightly through the damp silk, my ass swaying hypnotically.
“Good,” Victor said.
“Now some simple stretches for movement.”
Richard shifted but stayed silent. Victor stepped closer, giving calm instructions.
“Arms up, reach overhead. Hold.”
I raised my arms, arching slightly. The bra stretched tight, my heavy breasts straining, nipples thrusting obscenely against the silk.
“Bend forward, touch your toes if you can.”
I folded forward, legs straight. The cheeky back pulled deep between my cheeks, exposing more of my ass, the front panel outlining my mound perfectly, silk sinking into the wet crease of my pussy lips.
When I straightened, Victor’s voice was lower.
“Perfect. One more, cat-cow, if you know it. On all fours. Best way to test fabric response across the hips….”
My pulse spiked. On all fours. Ass up.
A week ago I would have politely declined. But now that awakened part of me stirred, I wanted to be seen, wanted their eyes devouring me. I lowered myself to the carpet without protest, knees apart, palms flat.
First cow: back dipped deep, chest forward, ass lifted high, my plump cheeks spreading wide on their own, the cheeky silk riding up to reveal the full, rounded globes parting lewdly, the shadowed valley between them hinting at my tight asshole. Then cat: back rounded, hips tucked. The silk rubbed insistently against my throbbing clit.
I flowed slowly between the poses, breathing steady, but heat was building fast. The silk grew soaked, clinging transparently to my swollen outer lips, a dark wet patch spreading across the front, outlining my dripping pussy in obscene detail. In cow again, thighs parted wider for balance, my heavy ass cheeks splayed open under the lights, the thin silk barely covering my entrance as it glistened with arousal.
Victor moved to the side for a clearer view, eyes fixed on my spread ass and the way my wet pussy lips peeked around the fabric.
“Remarkable fit, no gaps, even in deep stretch. And it handles moisture beautifully… look at how it clings to every curve down there.”
Richard started to speak, but Victor’s gaze stayed locked between my legs. I held the pose longer, flushed, a dark thrill coursing through me. They were staring at my spread ass cheeks and my outlined, dripping pussy – swollen, needy – and I was letting them drink it in.
Finally I rose to my knees and stood. My inner thighs were slick, the wet spot obscene now.
Victor smiled, controlled but hungry.
“Thank you, Lay. Very insightful. Let’s do the crimson.”
I nodded softly, pussy throbbing.
“Give me a minute.”
In the changing room I leaned against the door, eyes closed. My nipples ached like they were begging to be pinched. My pussy pulsed, soaked and swollen. The silk was drenched in the center, cool and sticky against my engorged lips.
The first two sets had still felt teasing. This one would be pure exposure. And part of me couldn’t wait.
“Now, for the crimson, let’s test with something more dynamic right away. The deep cow pose. On all fours, press your chest closer to the floor, arch your back deeper, and lift your hips for test. I want to see how the fabric responds in an extreme stretch.”
My heart slammed. I knew this would expose everything even more shamelessly. My asshole, my dripping pussy. All of it pushed to the limit. A flash of panic hit, but hotter underneath it. Without protest, I lowered myself to the carpet, knees apart wider than before, palms flat.
I dipped into cow deeply as instructed. Chest pressing toward the floor, back arched sharply, ass thrust high and proud. My plump cheeks spread obscenely wide on their own, the thin thong strip vanishing completely between them, revealing the tight, puckered ring of my asshole fully under the bright lights. The front panel shifted to sink right between my swollen outer lips, the soaked silk turning sheer, clinging obscenely to my flushed inner folds and dripping entrance.
Victor stepped close behind me. His fingers lightly touched the waistband at my hip, gently tugging the back strip outward to test stretch. His knuckles brushed the soft flesh of my ass, sending a shiver up my spine.
“How does that feel, Lay?” he asked softly.
“Fine,” I whispered, voice trembling.
“It stretches easily.” He nodded.
“Spread your knees a little wider now. Yes, like that, to really open up the hips.”
I parted my thighs further, my ass cheeks splaying even more. The position forced everything into lewd display. Victor studied it all for a long moment, then spoke again. His tone stayed professional but laced with something darker.
“Now, for the final validation, I’d like to test the central panel more thoroughly. The part that covers the most sensitive area. We need to see how it holds up under real strain.”
I froze, still in the deep cow pose, my breath catching.
“The central panel?” I asked, voice small and shaky, though I knew exactly what he meant.
“What kind of test?”
Victor’s fingers moved to the low front edge of the thong panel, hooking it lightly.
“Just checking elasticity in the core zone,” he said calmly.
“How well it stretches and recovers when pulled aside under actual conditions.”
Before I could respond, he gently pulled the soaked silk to the side.
My pussy was completely exposed. Bare, swollen, glistening. My outer lips parted naturally from the position, revealing the slick, dark pink inner folds, my entrance clenching and dripping openly. Thick strands of arousal stretched from my hole to the displaced fabric, breaking and sliding down my inner thighs.
Instinctively, my hand shot back between my legs, trying to cover my exposed pussy. Fingers trembled as they hovered over my slick mound.
“Wait… how can I do this? Everything’s showing… it’s so embarrassing.”
I whispered, my voice breaking, cheeks burning hot with shame and a twisted thrill. Richard moved quickly then. His hand gently but firmly caught my wrist, pulling it away just enough to keep me exposed.
“Lay, we’re almost done,” he said softly, his tone reassuring but edged with urgency.
“Let Victor run the test. This is for the deal.”
I hesitated, my arm going limp in his grip. The humiliation flooded me as Victor held the fabric aside, letting the cool air hit my naked cunt while he admired it unhurriedly. Richard leaned forward slightly, eyes wide, fixed on the same view.
Victor turned his head toward Richard, casual as if discussing fabric swatches.
“See how responsive the material is here? Excellent stretch. Opens wide without resistance. Look at the way it spreads so cleanly.”
Richard swallowed hard, voice thick.
“Yeah. The center is completely soaked, but it hasn’t lost any snap. Still holds its tension perfectly, even when it’s this wet.”
Victor nodded, eyes still on my bare pussy. Thumb brushed the edge of the panel as he tugged it a fraction wider, making my inner lips part even more. His fingers pressed lightly against my swollen outer lips, spreading them further apart, exposing every slick inch of my inner folds and clenching hole.
A desperate whimper escaped me.
“Ah… don’t spread it like that…” My voice came out high and breathy, body trembling as fresh wetness gushed out.
“Exactly. The core absorbs a lot of moisture, but the elasticity stays strong. It gapes beautifully like this. Fully open. And then recovers tight when released. No sagging, no looseness.”
He let the silk snap softly back into place, only to pull it aside again. Slower this time, holding longer, giving them both an extended, shameless view of my dripping hole clenching under their gaze.
“Remarkable recovery,” Victor murmured, voice rougher.
“Even after being stretched wide, it pulls right back. Snug and firm.”
Richard exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat, the bulge in his pants straining.
“Doesn’t lose shape at all,” he added hoarsely.
“The center stays so responsive. Keeps that perfect grip.”
Each tug and release sent a fresh jolt through my clit. My thighs trembled harder, pussy leaking openly now. The obscene conversation about “fabric” made it all dirtier. They weren’t talking about the thong anymore. They were talking about me, my cunt, how wet and ready it was. And I just stayed in the pose, letting them.
That’s when I caught it, a fleeting glance between Victor and Richard, their eyes locking for just a second as knowing smiles curved on both their lips. And that’s when it happened.
Victor’s tongue dragged slowly up my entire exposed pussy. Warm, wet, deliberate. From my gaping entrance over my swollen inner lips, circling my throbbing clit once before pulling back.
A raw, uncontrollable moan tore out of me.
“Ahh fuck…” It came out sharp and breathless, echoing in the silent room.
My knees buckled slightly, but I held the pose as a fresh gush of wetness flooded me. My hips pushed back on instinct, begging for more of that forbidden touch.
Richard’s breath hitched loud. Victor looked up at me, eyes dark and unapologetic, a small satisfied curve on his lips. And I knew, without any doubt, that the real negotiation had only just begun.
I stayed frozen in that deep cow pose, my body trembling, exposed and aching under their gazes. Victor’s tongue had just pulled away, leaving my pussy throbbing, slick with saliva and my own arousal. My mind reeled. This had gone too far, way beyond “product testing.” A weak protest bubbled up in my throat. My voice barely a whisper amid the haze of humiliation and unwanted desire.
“Ah… this is different from what we agreed.”
I murmured timidly, my cheeks flaming, trying to summon some shred of resistance even as my hips betrayed me, still subtly rocking back toward him.
“We said… just modeling…”
But before the words could fully land, Victor dove back in. His tongue thrust deliberately into my clenching entrance, probing deep, swirling inside my dripping hole with expert precision. A jolt of raw pleasure shot through me. Hot, invasive, overwhelming. My ass cheeks trembled violently, quivering as my body surrendered. A loud, guttural moan ripped from my lips.
“Ohhh god… ahh!” It echoed off the conference room walls.
My knees weakened further, but I held the pose. Waves of ecstasy crashed over me, my pussy gushing fresh wetness around his invading tongue.
Victor pulled back slowly, his breath hot against my slick folds. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.
“There we go,” he said, voice thick with satisfaction.
He straightened up, his hands gripping my hips firmly as he guided me out of the pose. With surprising gentleness, he turned me around and laid me flat on the conference table. My back against the cool wood, legs dangling off the edge. My crimson lingerie clung obscenely to my heaving body, the soaked thong still pulled aside, my swollen pussy on full display.
He looked down at me, those piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.
“Deal’s sealed, Lay,” he said smoothly, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
“V Luxe is in.”
Richard let out a relieved exhale from his chair, his bulge straining harder now, but Victor wasn’t done. He glanced over at him, casual as ever.
“Richard, why don’t you check the bra’s elasticity while we’re at it? Make sure it holds up under… real conditions.”
Richard stood without hesitation, moving closer, his hands reaching for the plunge bra that barely contained my heavy tits.
“Ah… what are you doing… no, Richard.”
“Sorry, Lay… it’s for the deal. Please understand.”
As his fingers hooked under the cups, testing the stretch by pulling them down slightly, exposing my stiff nipples to the air.
Victor leaned back down between my spread thighs. His mouth descended again, sucking hungrily on my exposed pussy. His lips sealed around my throbbing clit, tongue flicking relentlessly as he drew me in deeper, alternating between lapping at my inner folds and plunging back into my entrance. I arched off the table, another desperate moan escaping.
“Fuuuck… Victor…”, my hands gripping the table edges, body writhing as the pleasure built unbearably, the room filled with the wet sounds of his mouth devouring me.
Richard’s hands worked the bra, tugging and releasing the fabric over my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples “accidentally” with each test, sending sparks straight to my core. The deal was done, but this… this was just the beginning of whatever twisted negotiation they’d pulled me into.
Richard’s hands grew bolder, no longer pretending to just “test” the bra. He tugged the plunge cups down fully, freeing my heavy breasts to spill out, my thick nipples hard and aching in the cool air. His mouth descended without hesitation, lips sealing around one stiff peak, sucking firmly as his tongue swirled and flicked. A sharp gasp escaped me.
“Mmmph… ah!”, my back arching off the table involuntarily, the wet pull sending electric sparks straight to my throbbing core.
Down between my thighs, Victor finally pulled his mouth away from my soaked pussy, his chin glistening with my arousal. He straightened, eyes locked on mine with that dark, predatory hunger. With one hand, he unzipped his pants, freeing his thick, veined cock, already rock, hard and pulsing. He gripped the base, guiding the swollen head to my slick folds, rubbing it slowly up and down my parted outer lips, teasing my clit with deliberate circles before sliding back to my dripping entrance.
“Oh god… Victor, wait.” I whimpered softly, my hips jerking back instinctively, trying to pull away from the overwhelming pressure.
It felt too much, too real now. This wasn’t testing anymore. My thighs tensed, ass lifting slightly off the table as if to escape, a flicker of resistance surging through the haze of lust.
“We… we can’t… ahh…”
But Victor wasn’t having it. His strong hands clamped onto my hips, yanking me forward firmly, pulling my ass back to the edge of the table.
“Shh, Lay,” he murmured, voice low and commanding.
“Just relax… feel how perfectly you take it.”
The broad head of his cock pressed against my clenching entrance, parting my swollen lips as he eased in slowly, inch by thick inch, starting with just the tip stretching my hole. A deep, involuntary moan tore from my throat.
“Unnngh… oh fuck… it’s too big…”, my walls fluttering around him, gripping greedily despite my protests, fresh wetness coating him as he sank deeper.
At the same time, Richard released my nipple with a wet pop, his breath ragged. He stood fully now, fumbling with his own zipper, pulling out his straining cock, hard and leaking precum. He stepped closer to my head, one hand tangling in my hair to tilt my face up.
“Open up, Lay,” he said hoarsely, rubbing the hot, slick tip against my lips, smearing them with his arousal. I turned my head slightly at first, a muffled whine escaping.
“Mmm… no, Richard… ahh!”, but as Victor thrust a little deeper, filling me more, another helpless moan parted my lips.
“Fuuuck… yes…”, and Richard took the opportunity, sliding the head into my mouth, salty and thick on my tongue.
My body betrayed me completely now, hips rocking subtly to meet Victor’s slow penetration, muffled moans vibrating around Richard’s cock.
“Mmph… mmmph!”, as they claimed me from both ends, the deal long forgotten in the raw, consuming heat.
Victor’s hips snapped forward suddenly, burying his thick cock to the hilt inside me in one deep, claiming thrust. My muffled cry vibrated around Richard’s shaft.
“Mmmphhh! Fuuuck!”
My walls clenching desperately around the sudden fullness, stretching me wide as he filled every inch of my dripping pussy. He didn’t pause; his rhythm built fast, pounding into me with relentless force—wet, slapping sounds filling the room as his hips slammed against mine, his balls smacking my ass with each brutal drive.
“Oh god… yes… harder!” I gasped excitedly when Richard pulled back just enough to let me breathe, my voice breaking into high-pitched, needy moans.
“Ahh! Ahh! Victor… fuck me!”, my body jolting on the table with every powerful thrust, heavy breasts bouncing wildly.
Richard groaned, stroking himself as he watched, then shoved back into my mouth, silencing me again into throaty, muffled whimpers.
“Mmph… mmph… yesss!”, that hummed along his length.
The pace turned frantic, Victor gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise, spreading me wider as he fucked me faster, deeper, his cock pistoning in and out of my soaked cunt, rubbing my clit with every grind. Pleasure coiled tight in my core, building unbearably, my moans growing louder, more desperate even around Richard’s cock.
“Unngh! Oh fuck… I’m… ahhh!”, until it shattered.
My orgasm hit like a storm, my pussy spasming wildly around Victor’s thrusting shaft, gushing hot wetness down my thighs as I screamed.
“Aaaahhh! Fuuuuck! I’m cumming… oh god, yessss!”, the raw, massive moan echoing through the room, my back arching high off the table, body shaking violently in waves of ecstasy, toes curling as I milked him helplessly.
Victor growled low, his thrusts erratic now.
“Fuck, Lay… take it all”, and slammed deep one final time, his cock swelling inside me.
Hot ropes of cum erupted from him, flooding my clenching pussy in thick, pulsing spurts, spurt after spurt painting my walls white, overflowing around his buried shaft, leaking out in creamy rivulets down my ass as he ground against me, emptying every drop with shuddering groans.
Richard pulled from my mouth with a wet pop, my lips swollen and slick, and stroked himself furiously over my heaving breasts.
“Shit… here it comes,” he grunted, his cock throbbing in his fist. Thick jets of cum shot across my tits warm, sticky strands splattering my stiff nipples, dripping down the curves of my heavy breasts, pooling in my cleavage as he milked himself dry with hoarse moans, marking me completely.
I lay there panting, body trembling in aftershocks, covered and filled with their release, my mind blissfully blank as the “negotiation” sealed in the most irreversible way.
To be continued