Chapter 72 – Nipples stimulated

Since our first and only meeting seven months ago Art hasn’t changed much at all. Surely, he’s had a hair cut since then, but he’s either going for a mussed-up style or it’s been long enough ago that he needs another. The stubble on his cheeks and chin look less on purpose, like most men in town wear it, and rather more like he’s trying very hard to grow a beard. And failing. His nose seems just a touch small for his face while his ears and mouth seem almost too big. He has a strong almost chiseled jaw line, but somehow manages to still have a pointy chin. His pale green eyes would likely look exotic and attractive if they weren’t hidden behind his thick wide oblong oval glasses with tortoiseshell frames.

Art’s clothes match his overall look perfectly. A wrinkled blue and white striped button up shirt with a tie that’s far too thin to be stylish, covered by an equally wrinkled sport jacket that he either got in high school or from a thrift shop that was trying to be retro. And I swear, when someone dressed like that with a pair of jeans and new sneakers, they’d have to have a casual look but somehow Art pulls off looking like a kid going to his first job interview and having no chance of landing it.

Art’s whole persona screams nerdy or geeky and not in the good ‘Big Bang Theory’ kind of way. And yet here he is, smiling at me, worth billions of dollars. I remember thinking of him as a kind of cute puppy dog the way he came after me. We texted back and forth for a while and I somehow kept it civil while never agreeing to the date he so desperately wanted. I’d completely forgot about him as our texting just stopped but it suddenly hits me as he continues to smile at me expectantly… we were texting on my old phone. My ‘Jamie’ phone. The one that I haven’t had access to since Mal’s PI stole it and locked me out of it.

Mal’s quiet clearing of his throat snaps me out of my thoughts and brings me back to the present. Thankfully my default facial expression while working for Mal is a smile so I haven’t just been staring at Art dumbly. Taking a quick deep breath, I hold out my hand to Art and say brightly, “Art! It’s so good to see you again. Are you here to see Mr. Orpheus?”

Art takes my hand, turns it 90 degrees, awkwardly pulls it up to his lips, and gives it a light kiss. Letting go and looking back up at me, his eyes pausing appreciably as they climb past my cleavage, he seems to puff up a bit before replying, “Actually, I came to see both of you. I should probably see Malachi first though. Is he available?”

Even though I’m not at my desk and don’t have Mal’s calendar in front of me, I’m in the habit of having his daily schedule, if not his entire week’s, memorized. Beyond his new three o’clock appointment upstairs, Mal’s afternoon is free. Or at least he has nothing official scheduled. Knowing that Mal respects his clients, especially his big money clients, I nod and say, “Mal’s always available for someone like you Art...” I make a fun smirk and add “…Mr. Cromwell! Follow me.”

Turning so Art has room to walk past me, I gesture into the office and look over at Mal, who I know had been listening. Mal’s look confirms that he knows who is coming into his office but tells me more. Mal’s particular look says that he was expecting Art. I see that in the short time that I was at the door he’s moved the box of sex toys off his desk, though the remote to the nipple stimulators is still sitting there in the open. As Art walks in Mal does something I haven’t seen him do before. He holds his arms out wide and pulls Art in for a hug, slapping him appreciably on the back. Looking over Art’s shoulder at me, looking much like Art’s father or uncle, Mal says, “Paris we’re going to catch up. Make sure I’m not disturbed. If you can, find out what that appointment upstairs is about and if I can get out of it.”

My eyes flick from Mal to the back of Art’s head and back. I’m sure Mal can see the confusion on my face even as I speak confidently for Art to hear, “Yes sir!”

Turning on one of my stiletto’s I pull the door closed behind me and return to my desk. Sitting down I fall into my normal work routine. Check voicemail, check email, reply to what I can on both and queue up others for Mal’s attention. It takes a good five minutes for it to hit me… how did Art know I worked here? I play over what he said in my head, confirming that he said ‘I came to see both of you’ before replaying what I could have shared at our first meeting and our extended text conversation. I’d told him that first night that I worked at K Edison Global, but as soon as I found out he knew Mal I stopped talking about work. On the text front, he’d asked about work, but I specifically avoided talking about it, even going to the point that I avoided confirming I worked at K Edison Global hoping he’d forget it.

But in no way did I ever mention that I worked for Mal. So, why did Art seem so confident that he’d see me here at Mal’s office?

My attention is snapped away by two things simultaneously. First, I look up and see Grace walking toward my desk. Before I can do more than nod at her in acknowledgement though, I clench my teeth and stiffen my entire body as I feel my nipples being assaulted by the damned toys again.

It takes all my concentration just to not openly moan in pleasure. As is I’ve pulled my hands away from my keyboard and mouse and instead am gripping the edge of my desk tightly as I clench my thighs together. With the normal din of a busy office, the phones, the conversations, the HVAC system, the computers, the tiny buzzing noise coming from just under my blouse and bra is imperceptible to anyone that isn’t listening for the extra little noise.

Only when the stimulators stop am I able to look up at Grace standing in front of my desk… smirking at me questioningly, “You all right Paris? You were kind of staring off into space there for a minute. Thinking of last night?”

I return Grace’s joking smirk and nod. Admitting that I was lost in thought thinking about Grace stuffing her wet panties into my mouth while I was sitting on her bed, bound in a reverse prayer position was less embarrassing than admitting I was currently wearing stimulators on my nipples with no control over them.

Thankfully the stimulators don’t turn back on while Grace and I chat. After a few minutes of sexual innuendo, Grace finally lets me know about a business trip she’s taking to Miami early next month and an official request she’s going to send to Mal for a member of his team to accompany her. I take down some notes and promise to get it in front of Mal as soon as I can.

As soon as Grace is returning to her desk and out of sight, I start to get up with every intent of getting into the bathroom and turning these little nipple demons off. Just as I stand up though, I see Margret walking toward my desk with Clair Lindblom, one of the other secretaries on the floor. For a while there I tried to reduce my overt sexualness when Margret was around. I’d try to adjust my clothes, not push my breasts out as far, not push my ass out at all, and other things like that since she was the head executive assistant and executive assistant to the CEO. But after trying and failing for so long, I just accepted that she’d only ever look at me as ‘just another tart’ working for Mal. As such I smile, brush my hair out of my face, and turn toward her waiting to see what she wants.

When they get to my desk I can’t help but notice that Clair looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Margret doesn’t waste any time as she directs her severe look at me, “Miss Beaufort, I must borrow Miss Lindblom for a discussion. I have a replacement executive assistant coming in to cover her desk for the remainder of the day, but they won’t arrive for an hour or so. As Miss Lindblom is expecting several guests for her managers, I’ll need you to keep an eye on her desk and make sure all her guests are taken care of. Please make sure you maintain both your desk and Miss Lindblom’s until her replacement arrives. Thank you.”

Margret doesn’t even give me a chance to ask if I have time for a quick bathroom break before she turns and starts heading toward the elevator. I try to give Clair a sympathetic look while not showing my frustration at being unable to sneak away now.

As if the spirits wanted to remind me why I wanted to go to the bathroom, the stimulators click back on. This time, however, they don’t simply come on and stay on. They start modulating. They start off with the normal high intensity vibrating but the right nipple slows down until it’s barely perceivable, leaving most of the sensation coming from my left nipple. Then like a pendulum swinging back and forth, they start alternating between left and right, intense and subtle. The effect is vexing and I’m **** to sit down and momentarily cover my mouth to prevent an overt moan from sneaking out.

A few moments later, without any ramping up or down, the stimulators stop. But before I can even take a breath, they start right back up in the same pattern. Then stop again. This time they remain off long enough for me to think I might have another few minutes of relief but they come on several moments later, vibrating in tandem this time. Buzz buzz buzz. BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ. buzz buzz buzz. Buzz Buzz Buzz.

Just like the first time I experienced the stimulators and just like when they swung back and forth, this new level of stimulation was enough to take my breath away. Looking up, wondering if I’m actually going to have to go into Mal’s office and make him stop playing with me like this, I see a gentleman approaching Clair’s desk. FUCK.

I give the toys a few beats to see if they stop, but they just keep up their seemingly random sets of three buzzes, varying in intensity each time, keeping me almost completely off balance. With a deep breath in and out to help steady both my nerves and my legs, I stand up and make my way over to Clair’s guest. Once I come to stand behind the desk I fight the urge to sit down and allow my senses to be taken over by my nipples and instead say “Good morning. I’m sorry, afternoon. I’m Miss Beaumont and I’m covering Clair… er… Miss Lindblom’s desk. How can I help you?”

Any thought that I was covering up my under bra physical **** is nixed as I see the man looking at me with lust in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to pay any attention to my stammering introduction as he stumbles over his words, introducing himself as Mr. Clyde Aliotti and saying he’s here to see Mr. Rubio. I take advantage of his lustful gaze as I turn enough to give him a profile view of my breasts and point to Mr. Rubio’s desk, “Mr. Rubio is right over there Mr. Aliotti.” I add hastily so that he doesn’t expect me to walk him over, “He’s been expecting you. You can walk right over. I’ll let him know you’re on your way!”

Clyde takes another long hard look at me, seemingly taking mental photographs for later unsavory uses, before turning and heading toward Mr. Rubio’s desk. Picking up the phone, I find Mr. Rubio in Clair’s meticulously organized directory and tell him that his guest is on his way over.

Just as I hang up, I hear my own phone ring at my desk. I try to rush back to my station but the stimulator’s continued tweaking and flicking of my glass cutters forces me to choose between moving steadily OR quickly. Not both.

After I get the phone call and check my email, the nipple stimulators turn off again. Only when they’re off do I realize how effective they are as I notice I’m practically panting. I’m not out of breath, but I’d been breathing in time with the little fuckers. Sadly, I don’t have time to consider what else I might be doing while dealing with the stimulation they provide and trying to keep it hidden, as Clair has another man waiting at her desk, making me return and direct him to Mrs. Healy’s desk.

Halfway back to my desk the stimulators turn on again, this time with both remaining at a low hum. I can’t stop a sigh of relief as I rest back into my chair as this is a level of stimulation I can deal with. But as soon as I grow still, the stimulators spike in intensity. I jerk upright in surprise, but they immediately return to their low hum. I take a moment to take several deep breaths before leaning forward and pulling up my email. But only a moment after I open a company wide email regarding the upcoming Labor Day party, the stimulator’s spike again. I hold still and try not to react, waiting for them to end again but this time they don’t stop. Instead, they start pulsing rapidly between no sensation and full intensity. While it’s not nearly overpoweringly as pleasurable as before, it’s a sensation that simply can’t be ignored. If it remains like this, I couldn’t talk on the phone, greet a guest, or even concentrate on my email.

It takes me resting forcefully back into my chair and feeling the stimulators turn back to that low hum, to realize what’s going on. So long as my breasts are moving, the stimulators are keeping that low ‘maintenance’ hum. When I grow still though, they start spiking.

I test the theory by leaning forward and slowly rocking my shoulders back and forth. As I feel my breasts sway side to side with the motion, the stimulator’s stay off. As soon as I stop… spiked sensation.

I silently curse Mal as it seems I’m going to have to keep my breasts at least swaying a bit. Since I’ve gotten used to my real breasts and how they move, even in properly fitting bras, I’ve realized how effective they can be in catching and maintaining men’s attention. From a little jerk to get my cleavage to ripple to a deep quick breath to make my girls bounce, I can make a man look at me, I can make him drool, I can make him think nothing but lustful thoughts. And the most effective way to get and simply maintain a man’s attention without being completely overt? This very action, simply moving my torso side to side and letting my breasts sway to and fro.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Darnell’s low, baritone, sexy voice in front of my desk, “Hey there Paris! I don’t know what it is, but you’re looking particularly fine today. Did you do something new with your hair?”

As I slowly raise my eyes up to Darnell’s smiling face, I realize I’m really stuck between a rock and a hard place. I can either try to sit demurely and deal with the sharp spike like sensations that I haven’t been able to stand yet, or I can continue my tit swaying… and give Darnell the not-so-subtle signal that I’m trying to attract and arouse him.