Free Summer Girl by Casey Grant Page A

crotch.
Brad's two fingers rubbed her through instantly damp panties.
Abruptly he stopped and opened a desk drawer. He pulled out a
gleaming, thick, silver spike with a blunted round nose. He slid it
between her legs, rubbing it over the crotch of her panties. Brie
gasped as she felt the coolness of the round metal tip through the
thin material. “Oh geeze...” she gasped.
    Brie reached down, pulling her panties aside,
letting the cold, smooth tip make direct contact with her labia.
She grabbed the steel shaft and let it float through her folds,
catching her breath and trying to suppress a yelp that could be
heard by all those on the conference call.
    “...so what do you think, Brad?” said one
voice.
    “I agree with Amy,” said Brad sliding the
shaft into Brie's plush vulva, disappearing several inches inside
of her. Brie clenched her teeth, clamping them to her forearm in an
effort to stifle the pleasure resulting from the sensation of cool
steel radiating out from her vagina. “Intellectual property law in
Kuala Lumpur is not as developed as Singapore’s,” Brad continued,
“and there is certainly more exposure there for our client.”
    Brie grabbed the dildo out of Brad's hands
and took control. Brad looked on as Brie rammed the steel
stalactite in and out of her pussy, one hand bracing herself
against Brad's desk. She could feel the sweet sting of climax, not
quite yet there, but its headlights getting closer and closer.
“Uhhhh,” Brie moaned, Brad leaping for the mute button. “What was
that?” said one of the callers as Brad held one finger to his lips
trying not to crack up. He reached out with his large hand and
grabbed the masturbating Brie, pulling her in towards him. She was
still bent over his desk, supported by one arm, the lower half of
her ass-cheeks peeking out from under the skirt. He grabbed one of
her half-moons, clutching it, pushing his index finger into her
anus, spinning it around the edges, pushing it into her opening.
Brie screamed out again, nerve endings she didn't know she had were
shunted straight to the happy parts of her brain.
    “So, Brad,” said one of the participants on
the call, “What do you think about what Jan was just saying here
about injunctive relief in Southeast Asia? You think we should even
bother pursuing this here in Thailand?”
    Brad once again held his finger over his
mouth, looking at Brie. He reached over and turned off the mute
button. “Yes, Sam, I think it might be a smart way to go...
    Suddenly Brie came, letting out a wail that
no one, even on a phone line eight thousand miles away could
mistake for anything other than an orgasm. Brad hit the mute again,
cutting himself off mid-sentence, waiting patiently for Brie to
finish. She pulled the steel dildo out of her pussy a minute later,
tossing it on the desk and collapsing into Brad's lap. He scooped
her into a ball and kissed her. She grabbed the dildo off his desk
and held the blunt tip up to Brad's mouth, tasting her.
    Brad punched the speaker phone again. “Sorry
about that... Fed Ex was at the door.”
    “You guys have Fed Ex up there?” said Astrid
from his office.
    “We do. They come up by covered wagon.
Everything is months late…” Brad then lowered his tone and
whispered to Brie. “I need to borrow Mr. Fugleson's nail-gun
again.”
    “For what? You don't do any carpentry.”
    “No, but you do. There's some window trim
that's coming off outside that I need you to repair. Can you go
over and grab it?”
    Brie walked back to her room and kicked off
Tamera's slut pumps while looking for her jeans. She got a glimpse
of herself in the mirror again and stopped. Why change?
    She put the heels back on.
    Brie walked across the lawn, her stiletto
heels aerating the grass. Before she crossed the border into the
Fugleson's yard, Brie craned her neck to see if Mr. Fugleson's
wife's car was present (since their garage filled with junk, the
Fugleson's parked their cars in the driveway). No sign of