Friends With Extra Benefits (19 page)

"Five-hundred eighty-three million," he said
with some confidence.

She gave him a curious look.

He narrowed his eyes. "Or maybe it was 584
million."

"How do you know?"

"I saw a spreadsheet on Carl's computer a few
days ago. I mean, it could be worth more or less now with gold
prices fluctuating. Plus, he's got another smaller stash at the
office. All together, it's a little over 800 million."

Bridget said, "We believe he accepted about six
hundred million in investments. If he's got that much, there's
enough here to pay the investors back their principal and more than
his promised return. There's probably still enough left over for
the company to make a ton of money. I wonder why the hell he's
doing this?"

"I'll tell you why... He's a crazy, coked up,
sex-addicted, lunatic psycho... I mean, I like sex as much as the
next guy, probably more, but he's, uh... out of his fucking mind.
And now I'm going to die surrounded by almost a billion in
gold."

"I'll get us out of here. I promise."

Bridget struggled with her ropes, and Rob did
the same. After less than a minute, they gave up. She said, "Carl
told me to have a good night... like maybe he isn't coming back
until morning. All we need to do is get untied, then—"

"Then what? We just blink our way out of this
safe or wait for him to find us sitting on the gold, then blow us
away?"

"Let's just get free. We can worry about the
next step after that."

Rob glared at her, "You know, I can't believe
you pretended that you liked me just so you could stake out the
building. You could have told me what you were up to, and I would
have agreed to help you."

"I was not authorized to tell you. There was a
plan in place, and I couldn't deviate from it."

"Great plan."

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way. When you
told me Carl was in Atlanta, I kind of went rogue or, I don’t know,
I just..."

"Great, I'm trapped in here with the freaking
female John McClane."

"Who?"

"
Die
Hard
," he shot back.

She stared at him, confused.

"Oh, just forget it."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

Bridget paused. "Let's move back-to-back; then I
can try to untie your hands." After sharing a nod, they both began
shifting around until their backs were pressed against each other.
They moved close and she went to work on his ropes. After two
minutes of fruitless struggle, she realized she was getting
nowhere.

She said, "I can't get it. Shit. Try to untie
mine."

Rob went to work fumbling with her ropes. He
kept at it for another minute then groaned. "This isn't
working."

They turned to look at each other, their faces
only a few inches apart. She smiled at him. "I really began to like
you. It... it started out as a case, but... I don't know. I wanted
to tell you. I just—"

"Really?"

"Yes. If we get out of here...
I mean,
when
we
get out of here, we should go on a real date."

"I'll be unemployed, so I should have lots of
free time," Rob quipped.

"I think I will, too," she said, and they shared
a grin. "Why don't you try to use your teeth on my ropes? Maybe
that'll work."

Rob nodded. She twisted around as he moved
lower. The string of her tiny bikini worked its way untied on one
side as she turned. The fabric fell open, and half of her beautiful
ass was staring him right in the face.

"Uh, your bathing suit, it—"

"Just focus on the ropes."

"Okay," he said as his eyes locked on her
adorably pale-white ass cheek with his cock quickly expanding in
his swim trunks. Moving his mouth to her hands, he worked at
getting the rope between his teeth. He tried and tried, but it was
no use.

She said, "Spit on the rope."

"What?"

"I mean, spit on my wrist where the rope is, and
maybe I can slide my hands through."

"Okay," he replied unconvinced.

After working up a nice batch of saliva in his
mouth, Rob blew a huge wad unto her wrists. She cringed then broke
into a chuckle. He did it again, and she began to squirm. Her
bikini bottom had practically fallen all the way off now. He stared
at her ass and the spectacular back view of all her parts with his
swim trunks quickly crowding. He spit again, and this time she
laughed out loud. He asked, "What the hell are you laughing
at?"

"It tickles, and it's kind of gross. I can't
believe I'm asking you to spit on me. This is like bad porn or
something."

Rob chuckled.

She said, "Okay, now use your tongue to push it
under the ropes."

"Push what?"

"The spit!"

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

Moving in, he did as she asked, tasting the
bitter nylon rope as he fought to work the saliva in really well.
He finished the chore and then pulled back, spitting out rope
fibers as he cringed. "Okay, give it a try now."

He moved back a little further, and she fought
to pull her hands free. She struggled and struggled, thrashing
around. Her bikini bottoms now fell completely off. He stared at
her with his manhood sticking straight out and tenting his trunks
impressively.

"Fuck," she cried as she gave up. She flipped
over to look at him and her eyes immediately went to his huge
erection. "Why the hell are you hard?"

"Well, I'm down here staring right at your pussy
and spitting into your wrists and then licking it. It was kind of
hot in a totally bizarre way."

Bridget couldn't take her eyes off his trunks.
While parting her lips, she felt her pussy moisten as she said, "If
we're going to die like this, uh..." She glanced up at his face
then back to his bulge. "... the least I can do is give you a
blowjob."

Rob nodded in enthusiastic agreement as she
flipped around until her face was in line with his trunks. She
plunged her mouth on his bulge over the fabric of his trunks, and
he stared down at her breathlessly. Her hips were only a foot from
his face and his eyes quickly moved to her pussy. He stared at her
lips, desperately wanting to taste her.

Moving her mouth to the bathing suit tie, she
clamped down on one end with her teeth and pulled the knot free.
She smiled proudly and pushed her face into his abdomen. There, she
used her teeth to grip the waistband of his trunks, and she
struggled to pull them down. It wasn’t working. She tried again,
then once more with no luck before finally giving up and groaning
in frustration.

Bridget flipped around breathlessly then scooted
up until her still-secured hands could reach his trunks. After
grasping the waistband with her fingers, he moved one way and she
moved the other. Working together, they pulled the flexible
waistband down. He moaned, relieved as his manhood sprang free.
Bridget pulled his trunks down a little more then quickly flipped
back and moved into position with her face inches from his groin
and her parts just a foot from his lips.

She took him into her mouth and sucked him
enthusiastically, punctuated with a loud groan of delight.

"Oh, fuck..." he moaned. Glancing up at her
pussy, he narrowed his eyes. He moved to her and pressed his lips
just over her pubic hair. She got the message and spread her knees
apart as best as she could with her ankles still bound. Wedging his
head between her legs, he shoved his tongue inside.

Moaning, she worked her mouth over him as he
licked her like he'd never wanted to enjoy anything more. They each
kept going and going with what may have been the first-ever bound
sixty-nine session in a safe full of almost one billion dollars in
gold.

Suddenly, Bridget was struck mid-lick with an
epiphany. Her eyes opened wide as she pulled away from him and
asked breathlessly, "How much do you ejaculate?"

He kept licking her until she repeated, "Hey,
Rob! How much do you ejaculate?"

Pulling his mouth from her, he glanced at her
face while wearing an odd expression. "Um, the normal amount, I
guess. I'll tell you before I come, so—"

"No, that's not... I want you to come on my
wrists."

Rob looked at her like she was out of her mind.
"I've heard 'come on my tits' and even 'my ass,' but—"

"Look, we can use it to loosen the ropes. I hope
you shoot, like, a gallon."

He raised his eyebrows. "You've been giving me
blue balls for the entire week, and I haven't jerked off even once.
It should be a lot."

"I'm proud of you," she said with a smile.

"Thanks."

"Okay. I'm going to go back to work, but you
tell me when you're close. Give me some notice. Then we’ll switch
around so I can finish you with my hands, and if everything goes as
planned..."

"Okay, I'd better stop what I'm doing so I can
focus, and I don't... But God, you taste amazing! Just one more..."
He plunged his face back between her thighs and licked her wildly.
She groaned and let him go on for twenty seconds before she closed
her legs and said, "Okay, wow. Just uh, you have to stop,
or..."

Shaking his head in an attempt to focus, he
pulled away from her. "Sorry."

She slid her lips back over him and started
again. He watched her, completely turned on as she appeared to lose
herself entirely in the experience.

After ninety intense more seconds, he moaned,
"Oh, fuck. I'm ready."

She quickly spun around then backed up until his
manhood was pointed right at her wrists. She used both hands to
massage him as he pumped his hips back and forth into the makeshift
double-handed vagina-like receptacle. Groaning loudly, he flexed
every muscle in his body to push out the orgasm. He cried out as he
blew a huge load right into her wrists. She moved a few inches away
from him until she cradled only the head of his penis in her hands
just as shots two, three and four splattered against the ropes.
Thrusting his hips, he pushed his erection back to her wrists,
letting out one last huge groan.

Bridget kept on milking his manhood between her
aching fingers in an attempt to pull every last drop to her wrists.
He made some strange noise before holding perfectly still as he
struggled to catch his breath.

"Are you done?" she asked.

"Yeah."

Bridget rolled onto her stomach to keep the
semen from escaping to the floor. She shook her hands while
pointing them to the ceiling to drive the liquid freedom where it
needed to be. She cringed as the strange feeling of his thick
liquid dripping down her arms and wrists and onto the ropes
overcame her.

Once she felt the dripping had stopped, she
commanded, "Turn around." They moved back-to-back again as she
added, "Use your fingers to get it in there."

Following her instructions, he began to work it
in while wearing a disgusted look. He said, "This is gross. I'm
telling you right now that I'm not using my tongue to work that in,
so don't even ask."

She chuckled as he pushed the semen all over her
wrists and under the ropes. He announced proudly, "I think I did
shoot a gallon."

Bridget said, "Okay, let's try it."

He moved away as she began twisting her wrists
back and forth and thrashing on the floor. She called out, "Come
on!" He watched her with a hopeful look, then she cried out once
more, pulled harder, struggled, and finally pulled one hand free.
Grinning, Bridget moved her hands down to her feet. She glanced at
him, and they shared a brief smile before she went to work on the
knots by her ankles.

Free from all her ropes she went to him with her
lower half completely uncovered and her coiffed landing strip just
eighteen inches from his face. His eyes roamed over her body as she
worked on the ropes around his wrists. Once his hands were free,
she moved to his ankles and untied his feet.

Lying in front of her with his swim trunks
around his ankles, his penis was still nearly hard. She wore only
her bikini top, and they stared at each other with a fire burning
just below the surface. She moved to him, and he pulled her close,
rolling on top of her, their lips slammed together with unbridled
passion.

Rob ran his hands down to her ass and moved to
his knees. Then he pulled her up until her legs were wrapped around
his back with her hands clutching his neck. They kept kissing as he
got to his feet while still holding her, and he searched for a
place to put her down. Spotting the waist-high stack of gold bars,
he moved toward it.

He gently rested her spectacular ass on top of
the brightly glowing stack. Placing his hands on her bikini top, he
pushed it up to expose her breasts. He looked at the twin beauties
for the first time, narrowed his eyes, then leaned down and took
one of her tiny pink nipples into his mouth.

He licked and sucked passionately as she ran her
fingers through his hair with her eyes tightly closed.

"Oh, God..." Bridget cried out as he moved to
her other nipple.

Pulling up from her, he stared down hungrily at
her tight body. He had to have her. She wanted him badly. All at
once, he slipped inside and they fucked for what seemed like
forever.

After they both enjoyed tremendous climaxes, she
moved away from him, collapsing to the floor, panting and spent. He
slipped down to join her and they lay there curled up together,
naked, exhausted, thirsty, and struggling to recover.

On Friday, January 6th, in the Superior Court of
Miami-Dade County, the trial of Brookhart v. Grayson began. At 9:00
a.m. the rigorous process of jury selection kicked off, and it
wasn't until almost two hours later that the pool of more than two
hundred was narrowed down to the final twelve. The jury consisted
of seven women and five men who ranged in age from twenty-three to
sixty-one. After lunch, everyone assembled in the courtroom.
Jillian sat at the defense table with her lawyer, Stanley Parrish,
and another attorney from his firm. On the plaintiff side, Josh
Roth sat next to the conservatively-dressed Natalie Brookhart.