Seal more deals.

Gemma proves to be an important asset. A few weeks later, you organise a networking event with some of your most important clients. The conference room is bathed in the soft glow of recessed lighting, the air thick with the scent of expensive fragrances. Men and women in tailored outfits, some whose net worths rival small countries, are seated around the long mahogany table, their conversations lively, every now and then flicking their eyes towards the center of the room. There, sprawled across the polished surface of the table like the centerpiece of a feast, is Gemma.

She’s nude, her tiny, toned body arranged artfully on the table, her skin glistening under the light. Sushi rolls are draped across her stomach, the vibrant pink of the salmon contrasting with the smooth tan of her skin. Thin slices of sashimi - otoro tuna, the finest cut - rest on her thighs, the delicate pieces arranged in a line leading up to where her legs are slightly parted. Nestled in the well of her navel is a small mound of fresh wasabi. Her dark hair is fanned out behind her, and her lips are painted deep red.

One client plucks a piece of nigiri from her stomach, his finger brushing against he skin. She lets out a soft, breathy moan, her body arching slightly as he pops the morsel into his mouth.

“Delicious,” he murmurs, though his eyes are fixed on the way her nipples harden under his gaze.

Another client, Madame Laurent, a woman with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper tongue, plucks a slice of tuna from Gemma's thigh. Her fingers trace a slow path up Gemma's inner leg. Gemma twitches, but doesn't move. The next client doesn't even bother with the sushi. He drizzles soy sauce directly onto her nipple, then leans down, sucking her clean. Gemma's fingers clutch the edge of the table, her knuckles white, but she doesn't make a sound. Another client, emboldened, leans down and takes a piece of sushi from between her lips, his fingers lingering as she parts them for him. She's a living buffet, her body offered up for their pleasure.

You watch, your cock straining against your pants, as the room descends into a frenzy of hunger - both for the food and for her. You're surprised when one client hands you a contract, his signature scrawled with a speed that you thought would take weeks to secure. The night continues, wining and dining, until it concludes, your clients reluctantly heading home. As she leaves, Madame Laurent leans down, her lips brushing against Gemma's ear.

"You're wasted as a secretary, darling," she murmurs, before straightening and adjusting her dress.

As Madame Laurent leaves the room, you loosen your tie and climb on top of Gemma, her skin sticky with soy sauce, her pussy flushed from all the attention, ready and waiting for your cock.