Trade Secrets

Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

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Copyright ©1994 by Reed Manning First published in Club International, February 1994 NOTICE: This ebook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This book cannot be legally lent or given to others. This ebook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

She had that certain look from the moment she walked into the reception. Howard watched her amble across the crowded ballroom floor and languorously capture a glass of champagne from a tray. Slim, young, with a pair of tits that drew the envy of every woman in the room, she was a package of sheer availability perched on the kind of high heeled pumps that Howard's ex-wife had always called knockme-down-fuck-me shoes. Howard struggled not to give in to testosterone delusions. A lady this classy, at a conference full of respected and successful colleagues, wouldn't be approachable by just anyone. She could have her pick of any man there. Howard played it carefully, standing about twenty feet beyond her, conspicuously alone, sipping from his own glass. Only when her gaze ceased roving the room and settled on him did he dare hope. And only after her lips drew up into a friendly smile did he saunter over to her. “Enjoying the lectures?” he asked. “I am,” she said. “The talk on nonsinusoidal microtransmitters was riveting. Stupendous product potential, don't you think?” She enunciated perfectly, at ease with the jargon. A mind to go with the body. What Howard liked most, though, was how she scanned downward, apparently approving of the way he filled his tuxedo. The jogging and swimming was paying off. Not that it took much to stand out within this ocean of computer engineering nerds. 3

Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

“Yes,” Howard replied. “I've known the developers for years. Have you met them?” “Not yet, but I intend to. I'd like to interview them. I'm a reporter for FutureTech magazine.” He glanced at her name badge. “Ah, yes. I've seen your byline. How do you do, Carla?” “You're him,” she said, noting his own badge. “I'm who?” Howard asked. “The biofeedback guy. The, um, that is, the ... intimate toy engineer.” Carla glanced at her feet. A blush rose from her décolletage to her throat to her cheeks, deepening all the way. He could even see it in her scalp between the hairs of her blonde locks. “I'm sorry,” Howard said. “I seem to have made you uncomfortable.” “Oh, not at all,” she said quickly. “I've been wanting to meet you for ages.” Howard returned her smile. The evening was definitely looking good. Up close, in the warm full light of his bedside lamp, Carla's tits were every bit as spectacular as they'd seemed when nestled in her gown. She crawled up his equally naked body and folded her mammary wonders around his stiff cock. The purpled head jutted up from her cleavage. “My, my.” Carla giggled, admiring him. “How would I describe this phenomenon in the magazine? ‘Wellprogrammed'? ‘High orgasmic potential'? Let's see...” “How about, ‘pleased to see you'?” Howard offered. “And you're not describing my hard-on in a trade journal.” 4

Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

“But how will my readers know the real you?” She gave him a playful squeeze—soft flesh pressing against rock hardness. “I guess there are some things an interviewer just has to ... keep to herself.” She lowered her mouth and tongued the trembling head of his pecker. “Intimate secrets,” she murmured, and engulfed him. Her mouth kept descending, throat opening wide. Howard watched with widening eyes as his rather considerable length slid right in until her lips disappeared into his pubic hair and nudged his pelvis. “Ahh,” he gasped, breath so stolen away he could scarcely utter even that much. She smiled, mouth still thoroughly occupied, and wrapped the long, slim fingers of both hands around his balls. She gently rolled them to the left, to the right, closer together, farther apart, like a kid enjoying a special new plaything. As she stroked, she pulled her mouth slowly upward, leaving a gleaming coating of saliva along his shaft. His cock twitched, veins bulging up and down its length. She jerked him one, twice, three times. A desperately hungry look claimed her eyes. “I'd like to suck you to within a nanometer of your sanity,” she said. “Why not go for it all?” he offered. She purred and began to concentrate on some serious gratification. Not just his, he realized. He could tell from the wiggling of her butt and the shudders running down her spine that giving head was arousing her as much as anything he 5

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could possibly do to her. Her nipples grazed against his muscular thighs and instantly stiffened into proud little buttons. “You'll ... uh ... you'll ... let me ... fuck you, won't you?” he wheezed as tingles surged up his dick and his balls tightened up. Not that he was opposed to a complete blowjob, but Carla was far too fine a specimen to leave only partially sampled. She stopped with one hand wrapped feverishly around his prick. “Oh, God,” she said, licking her lips. “Sometimes it's damn near impossible not to get carried away.” She licked him once more from scrotum to glans. “I'd better switch now before my mouth refuses to let me.” Carla crawled upward and squatted above him. She tilted Howard's wang to the vertical. It oozed a drop of pre-cum. She remained an inch above him, teasing him with the anticipation. Howard's gaze was riveted to the sight, cock desperate the moment of contact. He wished he had a camera. Carla's pussy, though still untouched, was arrayed like a flower: delicate, light pink lips, spread from perineum to clitoris, slightly swollen and gleaming brightly with wetness. Her muff was a wispy delta triangle that would have fit within the briefest of string bikini bottoms, yet it appeared to be the result of nature, not trimming. Her asshole was a smooth, dainty dimple between firm, rounded moons. She descended. His cock slid all the way into her on the first thrust. Carla moaned, eyes fluttering upward in their sockets as if she'd entered an altered state of consciousness. Reaching 6

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down, she rubbed the juncture of her pussy lips and Howard's hard-on. “Just what I've been needing,” she purred. “You know,” grunted Howard amiably, “I would have given you an interview even without all this.” “Ah, but I like to get to know the subjects of my articles ... deeply.” Proving it, she ground her buns against his thighs, cramming him in to the maximum. Her fingers flew in rapid, precise circles against her clit. Howard placed his hands behind his head, letting her do the work, enjoying the way her vaginal muscles stroked the lower inches of his rod. Further within she was hot and smooth, giving him the bizarre and delightful sense that his erection had swelled to six or seven times its normal length and girth. She rode like a rodeo queen on a bronco. After teasing her pussy to a froth, she placed both hands flat on the mattress next to his shoulders and bore down fully. Her mouth assumed an “O” shape. He pressed upward, making his pole as stiff and straight as possible to assist her with her orgasm. As she reached the pinnacle, her hips went into overdrive. Howard held her thighs to keep her from bouncing off. Then, smiling gratefully, she collapsed on her side next to him. “Do with me what you will,” she murmured. He lifted her leg, entered her, and did exactly as she suggested. He fucked her silly—from the side, then in missionary, doggie-style, and after a bit of sixty-nine to cool down, he plopped her on her side again. An immense, pentup wad spurted into her. 7

Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

“You meet the best people at tech conferences,” she said, milking his final plug of semen out with her pussy. He nodded, grinned, and sagged to the mattress. **** “So,” she murmured, snuggled up against him, bright with afterglow, “what are you working on lately?” He stroked her sweat-drenched hair. “I've invented a very special vibrator dildo.” “Really?” Carla leaned her head forward like a cat that has just realized it's lurking beside an occupied bird cage. “How soon will it be ready?” “I have a working prototype. As soon as the marketing people decide how they want to pitch it, it'll go into mass production.” “Can I see it?” Carla asked. “Please?” She rubbed his moist cock affectionately. “Well,” he said. “It's not something I'm supposed to show to a non-employee, but under the circumstances...” Taking her by the hand, he led her into a workroom filled with tables loaded with personal computers, spare disk drives, loose circuit boards, soldering equipment, and other electrical engineering detritus. A leather couch took up one wall. Howard cleared documents off the cushions. “Have a seat.” Carla sat. Her bottom, still slick from fucking, glided sideways across the leather. They laughed. From a drawer Howard pulled out three dildos. One would have complimented a stallion, another conformed to generous 8

Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

but realistic human male proportions, and the third was a petite, metallic affair for precision work. “Which would you like?” he asked. She pointed to the middle choice. He handed it over and she brushed her fingers over the realistic-looking veins, squeezing the firm but yielding latex. “Just like mine at home,” she confessed. “Ah, but here's the difference,” he added, slipping a CDROM cartridge into what looked like a small desktop computer and booting up a program labelled “CLIMAX.” A short menu appeared. He chose the first selection. “Now,” he said, “if you were to turn on that dildo, it would make you come within sixty seconds.” “I don't believe that,” she replied. “Getting me back to orgasm right after I've been thoroughly fucked just doesn't work. And I've just been thoroughly fucked.” She winked at him. “I need a little while to recover—like a man.” “Just try it. See what happens.” “All right,” she said. She twisted the switch at the base of the dildo and placed the business end against her clitoris— And her jaw dropped. Mouth gaping, her back arched off the couch. Sweat popped from her forehead. Her nipples swelled like little volcanoes getting ready to erupt. “I ... I ... I'm commiinnnng,” she gasped. Shudders poured from her buns to her heels, from her venus mons to her scalp. An exuberant drop of pussy juice trickled from her crack over her perineum, poised briefly at her anus, and dribbled onto the couch. 9

Trade Secrets by Reed Manning

Barely able to control her hands, she reached down and flicked off the toy. Her pelvis collapsed onto the cushions. “My God,” she murmured. “My God.” She looked up at him with a dreamy smile, too spent to lift her eyelids all the way up. “How does it do that?” “You're sure you want to ask an engineer how his invention works?” Howard said, grinning. “The short version. Skip the techie parts.” “There is a whole array of sensors in that dildo,” he stated proudly. “They read your responses and transmit the data to this control unit. The unit calculates how best to adjust the stimulation and sends instructions back to the dildo.” “It's a feedback loop,” Carla said. “Exactly. A regular vibrator only has one or two pre-set speeds. The CLIMAX changes intensity, pulse, and even hardness depending on how the user's body reacts at any given time. With this, even Jerry Falwell's mother could learn to come.” “Isn't she dead?” “Doesn't matter.” Carla whistled. “This could make men obsolete.” “Or women. I'm adapting the set-up for inflatable dolls. But it's up to the user whether to fly solo or not. There are three basic menu selections. The first aims at immediate orgasm, period. The second guides you to the brink more slowly. The third gets you primed for a cock to finish you off.” “Hmmm,” she said, oiling the dildo with her pussy juice. “How about trying number three right now?” “I thought you'd never ask.” 10

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He tapped the desired numeral on the keyboard. Carla flicked the dildo on. This time as it touched her pussy she moaned, lifted her knees, and spread her legs to give him easy access. Howard lowered his mouth and ran his tongue up her labia just short of the point where the vibrator rested against her clit. “Mmm,” she said. “Every time you touch me, the thing gives me an extra boost.” She squirmed. He reached up and tweaked a nipple. “Ooo,” she said appreciatively. He licked broadly over her lower lips and perineum, breathing in her faint but deliciously feminine musk. As he did so the vibrator sped up, turning her clitoris into a blur of engorged tissue. When he thrust his tongue in, her hips rose totally off the couch. “That's so good,” Carla moaned between puffs of breath. “And you're right. It makes me want cock. Lots and lots of cock!” “Patience,” he said. “You haven't felt anything yet. Here, let me have the thing.” Reluctantly she surrendered the dildo. He shifted it from her clit to the opening of her cunt. As his tongue nudged her button, he gently slid the device inside her. Deep, animal noises trickled out of Carla's throat. She twisted and thrashed, and as Howard began rapidly humping her with the dildo, she grabbed her own tits and dug her fingernails in just shy of breaking skin. “I can keep you on the brink like this for an hour,” he said with glee. “Only a cock will take you over the edge.” 11

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“Muh, muh, muh, muh,” pleaded Carla. “That either means you want me to take an hour or you're ready to fuck now,” Howard guessed. He tapped her clit with his tongue once again; her heels drove into the cushion. “Either.” Carla managed just the one coherent word, then she resumed writhing and panting. Finally he had mercy. Her button was hot and red beneath his tongue and a tremendous wet spot covered the cushion beneath her rump by the time he pulled out the toy. Handing it to her, he climbed between her legs, took hold of her knees, and thrust his rod into her. Carla fumbled until she had the dildo on her clit again. She shot him a look of utter gratitude as he pounded her pussy. He gave her a good minute of humping. As her eyes started to cross, he asked, “Ever do anal?” “Sure,” she wheezed. “But it only works when I'm really stirred up. Otherwise it's a little intense.” “With this, it'll feel wonderful,” he promised. She shared a conspiratorial glance. “Go for it.” He slid out. Her ass was already slick with pussy juice on the outside, as was his cock, but he pulled a squeeze bottle of lubricant from under the couch and coated his boner. “I like a man who comes prepared,” she said, grinning. She smiled even deeper as he eased a finger into her butt, greasing her track. She yielded readily to the insertion. Soon he was able to slide two fingers in. “I've never let a man fuck me in the ass on a first date,” she teased. “You've never met a man so well-equipped,” he replied. 12

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“True.” A craving expression claimed her. “Now, Howard. Shove it up my ass!” “I always try to accommodate reasonable requests,” he said. He nudged his bulb into the dimple of her asshole and pressed. Tight, giving way inch by inch, his cock invaded her rectum. “It feels great,” Carla said. “Now fuck me. Fuck me until I won't be able to sit down tomorrow morning.” “Yes, ma'am!” She had a velvet-glove sweetness to her hole that inspired him to hammer-hardness. Her boobs giggled with each impact. The room exuded the intoxicating aroma of sexdrenched leather. If Howard had to spend eternity trapped in a single moment, this would have been it. A deep breath filled Carla's lungs, spreading her tits to each side. “Oh, at last!” she cried, then wind rushed from her mouth in huge puffs. Her pelvis trembled, drawing Howard's load up from his balls. As she reached the crest of her orgasm, his first spurt poured into her crack. This excited her even more. Howard gushed until his wad threatened to overflow out of her opening, then he collapsed upon her. She let the dildo fall from her palsied fingers. “Now that,” she said in exhaustion, “is customer satisfaction.” **** After an hour back in the bedroom snuggling, Carla got up and started putting on her clothes. “My flight leaves first thing in the morning,” she explained. “I'd better get back to my 13

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hotel.” A crease of reluctance scored her brow. “Five hundred miles never seemed so far away.” “Hope you gathered enough source material for your article,” he said, using a joke to dilute his own regret. “I think so.” She smiled. “But when it's time to actually release this product, I hope you won't mind if I check in with you to reconfirm a few technical details?” “I'm at your service.” She winked. After a lingering good-bye on the front porch, a cab arrived to whisk her away. Howard returned to a bed that was suddenly far too empty. He couldn't possibly sleep. He was too busy replaying the past few hours in his mind. The dildo had worked better than even he had thought possible. The last few modifications he'd made must have really done the trick. Those guys in the testing lab had been crazy. He knew the apparatus got the right results; he'd proven it yet again. And what wonderful proof it had been. Howard rolled off the mattress and strolled to his workshop, humming. That's when he noticed the small circuit board that lay amid the jumble of gear on his work bench. That particular board controlled the feedback loop of the dildo program. He'd been adjusting it that morning and had been in such a rush to get to the conference that he hadn't reinstalled it. Which meant it hadn't been functioning during any of the time that Carla had been there. 14

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Howard snatched up the dildo, looking at it as if it were some sort of extraterrestrial artifact. Without a functioning feedback circuit, the device was scarcely more than an ordinary phallus-shaped vibrator. The workroom and its couch still exuded the aroma of fabulous, enthusiastic sex. If not the dildo, then what had gotten Carla so worked up? Was it all an act or imagination or— In the reflective surface of the nearest computer screen, Howard caught a glimpse of his still-naked, well-fucked, healthy male body. And he thought of Carla's come-hither smile at the reception, produced the moment she'd spotted him. And he remembered her lingering kiss as she'd headed for the taxi. He began to chuckle—deeply, and with pride. He picked up the business card Carla had left and traced her name with his fingers. A quick scan of his salary pay stubs showed plenty of accumulated vacation hours, and in moments he had looked up the number of his travel agent. A little trip, a few days off, might do him a world of good. After all, certain things were worth some serious research.

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