2 comments/ 32746 views/ 3 favorites Stalking Miss Birtwhistle's Nipples By: Egmont Grigor Much of Oswald Finch's focus in life has been on nipples. An extraordinary interest in fact and had he graduated in a top stream at college and made medical school he may have become a nipple enhancing surgeon. Instead he made do being an objective appraiser of nipples and lead the group that published findings. Although reared on a couple, Oswald was twelve before he took a slight interest when some of the girls he knew began expanding around their nipples and about that time he was confined to playing with boys of his age, although in his autobiography he chose to use the phrase 'associate with' rather than 'playing with'. The years flew by and soon Oswald, whose appearance outshone his name, was being offered an assortment of nipples by young women who regarded their nipples almost on a par as bestowing the key to the kingdom. Oswald, with his own hormones flying almost out of control at that age, licked, sucked bit and blew on an assortment of twin nipples and vastly expanded his knowledge. It wasn't long before he learned that nipples fell into the category of an erogenous zone and when he performed with panache it not only earned him the legendary key to the kingdom but access to the very real cellar as well. Well, here's the rest of Oswald's remarkable story: Chapter 1 At the aged of twenty-eight, a bachelor and publisher of his late father's magazine World Railways Quarterly but now following a complete revamp of content and renamed Nipples International Quarterly, Oswald Finch arrived home late from a hard grind at the office - a redhead with unbelievable staying power - he switched on his recording of TV8's 7 o'clock news. He watched the third item on the bulletin with delight. It showed the Mayor's third wife, a stunning 30-year-old coming from the Court after winning a $3.l8 million divorce adjudication to resolve the squabble of her departure entitlement. "Get the [bleep] out of my way you gutter piranhas," she fumed, elbowing a pathway through the pack of journalists baying for the quote of the day. She stopped and said, "If it's a quote you want how about this one, "The asshole deserves to get the [bleep] clap from some of the loose women he [bleep]. Ossie almost clapped in delight as seeing the beautiful fireball giving the Mayor and the gutter piranhas heaps. Then she began elbowing again and that's when he saw it: for no more that a quarter of a second her dress front gaped, she was braless and he glimpsed something that took his breath away. He let the film clip play, showing the Jessie's great ass as she stepped into her hire car. That was followed by the temporary purpled-faced Mayor James accusing his Ex of slandering his girlfriends and then an attorney specializing in libel law saying Jessie Birtwhistle who'd reverted to her maiden name had saved herself from possible multi-million law suites by not naming the girlfriend with the clap because the Mayor was addicted to taking up with new girlfriends and probably even he didn't know who there all were. According to current law it was impossible to defame a large group when making a false statement. Ossie replayed the item and switched to slow play and soon confirmed, even at the distance the camera was from the object of interest, he was looking at a pointy nipple, the most perfect one he'd ever seen. He immediately felt half in love with the pugnacious Jessie Birtwhistle. Because of his fetish turned into a business, Ossie was up to his neck in nipples, so to speak. He was aware of five-star nipples could occur on females from early teens to mature age and color of skin was irrelevant. What he'd seen on that tape had taken nipples above the bar - it was a five-star-plus beauty, perhaps one of a kind although it was likely to be paired. God, he thought, dabbing his brow. Being on the nipple alert was far more exciting that being an, um, stamp collector and certainly much beyond being a whale watcher or being on the watch for the almost extinct speckled wading heron of the Orinoco. Next day Ossie confirmed that Miss Birtwhistle had indeed recently leased a penthouse apartment in Mayfair Tower and that privacy in the tower was assured with two armed guards on eight-hour shifts 24/7. Rather than put a tail on Miss Birtwhistle to find out her favorite place for coffee or where her hairdresser was located he called his real estate agent and instructed her to lease a penthouse apartment in Mayfair Tower - all seven were on the 32nd floor and he agreed on the amount to offer an interested existing occupant to consider relocating. Miss Birtwhistle was unlikely to talk to him while having her hair done and would regard him with suspicion if he sat down at her table in a coffee shop. This way he could follow her into the elevator and use in his coded access card for the 32nd floor and watch her eyes light up in a neighborly fashion. If the elevator was full of course, he could be lucky enough to back on to her and feel those nipples 'burn' into his back. "Oh yeah!"The other thing was once Miss Birtwhistle knew who he was she would realize he was wealthy enough not to be after her $3.8 million when he showed an interest in her as a person who simply appreciated her for what she was, the bearer of perfect nipples. Chapter 2 World Railways Quarterly had boasted of a circulation of 75,640 subscribers in fourteen countries four years ago when Ossie became publisher, well down on its peak in the late 1980s of 111,888 as old subscribers were dying off faster than new generation enthusiasts were arriving at magazine-buying age in a time where computer games were still in its infancy and kids were still addicted to reading. One night when admiring his collection of nipples on his computer screen Ossie ingeniously decided to switch World Railways into a 'super nip' publication. Today the magazine was printed in four languages (for the captions silly!) and circulating in sixty-five countries. The print runs of the latest issue totaled 1,778,200 and the website 'teaser' attracted hits measured in the millions and displays of downloaded nipples from visitors to the site. This obsession with nipples was a healthy one. Quality of nipples was not considered when Ossie's employees (including females) were hired and each magazine included a section on Breast Health & Care. Advertisements for nipple piercing products were accepted despite the publisher's personal aversion to that and a nipologist provided a column about recommended breast pumps (43% of readership claimed to be female in surveys), nipple grooming, nipple non-invasive decoration and tips on how to keep nipples proud. The current world media craze for displaying the Nipple Slip of celebrities in the vicinity of cameras was also featured. As sole proprietor of the company, the anonymous donations to early detection of breast cancer research Ossie made each quarter were substantial and fulfilled his sense of obligation to be 'balanced' toward his career interest. Ossie was proud of his own pointy nipples but long ago after voyeur surveys at the beach had concluded they were great but not remarkable. His girlfriends became used to his preference to having his nipples stimulated rather than having his erection worshipped. However, diving down to secure a mouthful was never denied them if that's what they wanted. Three weeks after calling his real estate agent, Ossie was in his penthouse hanging up original paintings of nipples. He studied the security guards and finally selected an always-smiling black guy called Oliver. A chat and a furtive handover of fifty bucks and Ossie was in possession of information that Miss Birtwhistle was currently in the Bahamas celebrating her newly-won freedom and was due back on Tuesday at around 4:00 in the afternoon. Ossie waited across the street on Tuesday with a bunch of yellow flowers and just before 4:00 saw her arrive. As she walked into the foyer pulling a suitcase with a smaller one on top of it he followed and as he entered the elevator behind her she turned and said, "Remove yourself please. It makes me nervous when other people are in my elevator." "Good for you lady," Ossie smiled thinly. "Go get another elevator - I'm in a rush to the bathroom." He was riled. If she only traveled alone in the elevator no way would he manage to get those 'pointies' of hers pressing into his back. She was fumbling in her handbag for her passcard. He used his to access the protected 32nd floor and asked politely, "What floor ma'am?" after realizing she'd not seen him use the gold card. The poor woman looked exhausted. Well there would be all the travel, the booze and no doubt plenty of pump action so her eyes didn't light up in a neighborly way. In fact they looked quite scared. "Have you stolen that card?" Ossie stood with his back to the wall and said nothing, watching her in the ceiling mirror looking perplexed and then pulling her luggage on front of her as if it offered protection. He used the card again to open the doors to the 32nd floor and grabbed the handle of her trolley. "What number?" Miss Birtwhistle's hand dove into her handbag. "There's no need for pepper spray or a handgun. I'm just being neighborly." "Neighborly?" she asked as if the word was foreign to her. Well, being almost a hooker to capture the Mayor's attention when he was on a recruitment drive to find his third wife, the word probably didn't come easily to her lips. But her hand emerged from her bag empty." "Six." "Oh, two down from me. I'm in four, ex-Haig's apartment." "I wasn't aware they intended leaving?" Ossie thought best if he didn't reply and say they hadn't been aware either they were about to leave. The jerks lifted his dislocation offer of $15,000 to $45,000 before sighed acceptance. "Thank you, I can manage from here." Ignoring that, Ossie held out his hand and into it dropped her key. Well, she was now willing to trust him to that extent. He opened the door and brusquely said goodbye. "I'll invite you for coffee sometime." He walked on. "Wait, I didn't catch your reply." He turned. God, she was poised on those stupidly high heels of hers like a bird ready to fly. Although her breasts were pushed forward the crepe folds or whatever they were in her dress made it impossible to sight nipple definition. She'd been scared when he'd entered the elevator and angry about his rudeness so the nipples would be taut, reflecting those blood surges. "I didn't reply because it was a vacuous invitation." He strode on and she called, "I'm not the typical dumb blonde." He swung around and returned to her. She almost backed away. "Here, he said, thrusting the flowers at her cleavage. You appeared to be returning from travel. Have these to brighten your apartment. "I really don't..." "Then toss them down the trash chute." "I didn't mean to be..." "Dismissive? If that's your style lady I'm wasting my time being neighborly." She didn't reply and when Ossie opened his door and looked back she was still in the hallway, looking at him. He didn't wave. Inside his apartment he thrust his fists above his head in victory. It had gone a trillion times better than he'd dared hope. Miss Birtwhistle's mind was now in a whirl about him. Er, so he hoped. Chapter 3 Next morning there was a birdlike tap on Ossie's apartment door. He knew it would be her so wrote down his cell phone number to hand her and went to the door. By then she was pushing the bell. He trained his smile and opened the door to be greeted by room service women. "Oh yeah, come in." He flew into the bathroom, put the lid down and cleaned toothpaste spray off the mirror, grabbed his wallet from the bedroom and went out with the remainder of his coffee and climbed to the observation tower. "Good morning," said Miss Beautiful, taking off her glasses - yes, reading glasses. She had a newspaper in her lap. Well, that was a delight to find she had at least one defect that normal humans had to bear. "You don't appear ready to set off to the office?" Ossie grinned, knowing she was on a fishing trip but the first cast was ineffective. "I'm the boss so jeans and sports shirt are okay." "So other employees are required to wear suits?" "No." Miss Beautiful pouted, probably accepting she was being teased to see how long before she really had to ask him outright. To Ossie's dismay she placed her glasses back on and resumed reading the newspaper. He looked out at the view, not knowing what to say. So her turned to her and saw the exposure of very long and slender legs disappearing into her shorts so said, "You have lovely legs." She continued reading but said, "Are you propositioning me Mr Finch?" God, she'd checked up on him. Well she was entitled to know who her neighbors were. Ossie brushed back the sides of his hair nervously and remained mute. "And you have a great head of hair for a guy who's, what shall we say, thirty-five?" He croaked "Twenty-eight" knowing she wouldn't be interested in a younger man but the denial at being accused of being thirty-five had shot from his mouth before he had a chance to suppress it. "Oooh, how lovely. Someone my own age. All the other folk on this floor are old and fat," she said, watching Ossie's belly being drawn in but too his relief she didn't giggle. "I found in my mail a notice from management stating the new occupant of Apartment Four is a Mr Finch, unmarried, a long-time resident of this city who is publisher of Nipples International Magazine. "Er, Nipples International Quarterly" "Well, thank you for confirming. Stay away from me Mr Finch. Goodbye." She resumed reading. Ossie fled. Well, he'd gotten out of there because he'd half-expected her to be impressed that it was an internationally circulating magazine even if the theme of it disappointed her somewhat. He also knew it would be a mistake at that moment to stand his ground and attempt to modify her attitude. More than likely she'd begin to swat him with her newspaper. He returned to his apartment and the maids who were singing cheerfully stopped. "Please keep on singing," he urged. They looked at one another nervously. "Please sing - er, it makes me feel happy." They then sang their little hearts out. So instead of sitting at the dining table and sulking Ossie smiled and his brain slipped from negative to positive cycle. He pulled out his phone and called his chief assistant and production manager Mrs Clarke. "Dinah, something's cropped up so I'm taking a week off. Is that okay?" "Yes of course. The next issue will be ready at the week for you to sign it off." "Good, I'll come in for that checking. In the meantime phone me 24/7." "Where's that?" "It means anytime, day or night, seven days a week." "Oh, yes. You like longish nipples and short captions - I should have guessed." Ossie had a plan. He'd spend the much of the coming week and especially the weekend checking out Miss Birtwhistle's favorite haunts so that he could ensure she'd encounte him 'accidentally' several times a week and the familiarity of him would grow on her. Either that or it would intensify her disgust. By Sunday night Ossie had spent hours stalking Miss Birtwhistle. She went to ballroom dancing lessons twice a week so he was now enrolled there without a partner. Fortunately her gym was mixed so he enrolled and he had to offer to pay double fee to be accepted in her drama training group. He also knew a bar, coffee house and restaurant she frequented, confirmed after memories were activated after he palmed money to bartenders and waitresses. He was quite good at dancing although untrained, so was confident he'd sneak by her critical appraisal and had been very active in drama at college, taking major roles so was a prime candidate to be paired with Miss Birtwhistle because from what he could see she'd be a natural. He hoped to be placed against her, er opposite her, in a part that called for her to wear a décolleté costume but hopefully he'd not be exposed by having to wear tights. Ossie left work early on Tuesday to be at the 5:30 dancing class - beginner's intermediate level. He was disappointed she was not there but decided to carry on. Perhaps she was away talking to a consultant about investing the money the Mayor had forked out to her. The large but nevertheless graceful tutor with nipples that probably would look like tent pegs coupled, er, paired everyone and he was left without a partner. Right, thought, Ossie, the instructor calls out the chief instructress and out waltzes Miss Birtwhistle into my arms. "Just a moment, the owner of the studio is in doing the accounts, I'll ask her if she would be kind enough to fill in. You won't be over-awed will you dear - she's a former dance champion." Ossie shrugged and of course out came Miss Birtwhistle. She did a double take but floated into Ossie's arms and he stumbled around after her with Miss Birtwhistle pulling him closer against her and speaking to him encouragingly about listening to the beat of the music and not looking at his feet she soon had him whirling around in good timing although he thought she must be thinking she was the beautiful gazelle and he the hyena. At the end of the session she complimented Ossie on a marked improvement and said she had an hour to finish up but she invited him to join her for a drink and named her favorite bar. Ossie floated back with gazelle like grace to spend another hour at the office. "I'm sorry about not inviting you to my apartment for a drink but I have no wish to be alone with you until I feel I can trust you," she said after ordering his 'Real scotch with a finger of water, no ice'. It came with ice so she sent it back saying to the waitress, please serve a fresh whisky and room temperature filtered water in a small jug. "Yes ma'am," the waitress said dutifully. Miss Birtwhistle eyed her companion. "Why did you enroll my dance academy?" "To polish us my dancing as it does assist in fine tuning agility which is the reason why I've also joined a gym." "What gym?" Ossie told her and she looked at him suspiciously and asked what else had he joined since he'd moved into his apartment. "Only one other activity that you'd not be remotely interested in." "Oh, a Strip Club," she smiled. "Look, I'm sorry I behaved rather rudely to you in the tower the other morning. I have not seen you there. I was hoping..." She paused and when he said "Hoping what?" she said, well hoping they could meet occasionally as neighbors. "We seem to have at least two interests in common - dancing and fitness." "Yes, but you are appalled that I publish a magazine focused on nipples." "Well, it was a bit of a shock. But since then I've purchased a copy and read it with interest. At least there was nothing about pussy or ass." Ossie didn't know where to look so he looked at the ceiling. "I have rather nice nipples, I believe. Perhaps when I get to know you better?" "Movies and dinner tomorrow evening?" he croaked. "Is there something wrong with your throat - or have you half-swallowed a grease nipple?" "Miss Birtwhistle. Please don't tease me," Ossie croaked, holding up two fingers and the alert waitress responded with a nod and ordered another round of drinks from the bartender. "Helene." "Excuse me?" "Please call me Helene. I now call myself Helene to completely eliminated being associated with my ex-husband who called me by my first name of Jessie." "Oh, sure. Call me Oswald but I prefer Ossie." They took their drinks and Helene made good eye contact and said, "Here's to closer contact Ossie, very much closer contact." "What a wonderful thought," he replied and imagined her chest pushed towards him marginally." Stalking Miss Birtwhistle's Nipples He looked up from where he'd been focused to find her staring at him, smiling. Chapter 4 Helene and Ossie walked the short distance back to their apartment building and in the elevator she stood against a wall, arms outstretched on the hand rail, tummy pushed forward with legs slightly spread - the classic stance of a woman in an elevator wanting to be kissed. Everyone would know that but there was no one else in the elevator so perhaps she'd even go farther? Who knew? Ossie figured he knew one thing and that was not to touch her. If he managed to worm into her affections just briefly and then popped up in front of her at drama class late he'd be history - kneed and left groaning in front of the entire drama group. As they walked to the elevator they agreed to change their date to the next evening as she had some important phone calls to make. Helene stood at her door while he acted the gentleman and unlocked it for her. She was acting like a woman opening herself to her man: he felt the heat of her and smelt more than heated French perfume that was assaulting his nostrils seductively. Oh, he sighed. What was her bra made of - armor platting? No way could he see her nipples doing their best to allure him to her chest. He half bowed, smiled a good evening and walked away to hear her whisper: "I do not believe it - I do not believe this is happening to me." Safely inside his apartment he performed a victory salute and cried, "YES!" By the time she emerged dressed as the Queen of Sheba next evening, Ossie had been introduced to the drama class. As Helene walked by she snapped, "Are you stalking me?" But she changed to look at him curiously as the drama coach read out highlights from Ossie's CV, leads including King Arthur, Robin Hood and George Washington. The males lined up to take turns at kissing the Queen's hand and delivering the simple line in the deep voice of a hero, 'My Beloved Queen of the People of Egypt. I pledge my allegiance to you and will lead your army of guards to assure your safety to and from your return to visit King Solomon'. Ossie was the only one to note the error in the script - Sheba was Queen of Ethiopia, not Egypt. His biggest threat appeared to be the guy in front of him so as that guy moved forward to take the Queen's hand Ossie pushed him and he stumbled into Helene's lap, nose digging in between her upper thighs. "Get away from me you pervert," she shrieked, slapping his nose hard enough to make it bleed, putting him out of contention for the moment. Feeling remorseful, Ossie said, My Beloved Queen of the People of Ethiopia. What lovely breasts you have so why wear a bra." Bang! Now he came close to a nosebleed and Helene picked up a pottery vase and went to throw it at Ossie. The tutor who'd given Ossie a tick for correcting the mistake in the script screamed to Helene to put down the vase. She then screwed up Ossie's marking sheet and ordered him to apply for a refund of his fees and he was banned from reapplying for membership of the school within the next twelve months. He left, feeling very angry as he'd wrecked his chances for Helene. He went off to the bar nearest his apartment building to ease his sorrow. An hour later she arrived and sat beside him. "What?" he sighed, looking at her and signaling a waitress. "Your unconditional apology assures continuation of our developing friendship." "Sorry." "What, you ungrateful beast!" There were fewer that a dozen patrons in the bar but Ossie thought that was sufficient to justify a quantum leap forward into stage eloquence. He leapt up, went behind Helene and holding her shoulders tightly to prevent her from flying off, and said in strong baritone voice, "My Beloved Queen of the People of Ethiopia. I pledge my allegiance to you and will lead your army of guards to assure your safety to and from your return to visit King Solomon." As he spoke, Helene stopped struggling and when he finished said," Ohmigod, Ossie, that was brilliant." "Ma'am, I beg forgiveness. I was guilty of pushing that innocent peasant into your lap, unaware of the vengeful consequences for which I was left feeling wretched. So I muffed my speech before the Court well-knowing I would be banished and he would receive another chance to audition and probably would win the part." "That indeed is what happened my dishonored general and I admire you for your confession. Please kiss my hand to confirm your unswerving obedience." Ossie went and faced Helene and kissed her languidly drooping hand. "Be seated and behave," she ordered. Many of the people in the bar politely applauded the unscheduled performance. "Thank you for your apology and confession. Sadly I say you would have won that hard hands down had you not behaved like an idiot. I have changed my mind and will accept your invitation to the movies and dinner this evening. "I wasn't aware you had thought of canceling?" "God, you have a hide," she laughed. "Call for me in an hour." Ossie watched her walk away wondering if he'd get to expose those nipples this evening. He sighed and walked a couple of city blocks to the office to sign some business checks waiting to be sent out next morning. He then read a submission from Ingrid from Sweden whose beautifully photographed face and chest displayed four-star grade nipples. I massage my breasts in smelly but vitamin-rich fish oil at least once a week and attribute that for my skin being blemish-free. As the soothing sensations begin to make my nipples stiffen I think of the many men, no doubt many of them married, who will fornicate with me in the years to come. I shudder and become aware I am secreting a little from the aperture between... Excellent Ingrid. Our check is in the mail, Ossie mused, adjusting himself to feel more comfortable. He picked up the next reader contribution. It was from Alison in Kings Cross, Sydney. Until I grew more mature I thought my tits were an encumbrance of future but nevertheless short-term usefulness until I became a prostitute and learned that some clients fire much better when watching me suck my own nipple. An old man aged about eighty... Yes Alison. You check will arrive shortly, Ossie thought, scratching behind his left ear. Showered, shaved and packaged for seduction leadership, Ossie pushed Helene's button and heard the bell ding-dong 'He's at the door and breathing steam!' Helene opened the door and her long black hair was not tied back as usual and her green eyes were sparking luminously. Grrrrr. But she looked fatter and only then did the loon dressed in smart-casual become aware she was bra-less. Bounce for me my love, he almost said aloud as he imagined twenty-four condoms in her tiny clutch bag. Well, perhaps four. He bent over and kissed her cheek as perhaps a janitor would kiss his grandmother. She pushed against his arm and he distinctly felt tit. Wow. His faced began to heat as he fought against running an erection and his heartbeat soared. In the cinema he casually draped an arm around her shoulder but she pressed her head back into the seat pinning his arm to foil his planned later move to stretch the arm and cup the offside breast. He gave up on that strategy and concentrated instead on reading the English subtitles of the over-the-top dialogue of the Italian romance. Toward the end the scantily dressed heroine stretched out cooperatively for their first penetration only to disappear over the far edge of the table when he climbed up in too much of a rush. They next thing they were doing it with gusto on the rug in front of the fire and his trousers afire were setting alight her panties hanging off one leg. The entire theatre erupted into laughter at the farce with the kitchen on fire and the embarrassed couple, obscured by smoke from the waist down, stood wondering what to do. Helene turned to Ossie. Both were still smiling hugely. She pulled him to her and kissed him full on the mouth, running her tongue briefly across his lips. It was over in four seconds but his mind was racing. What that an invitation or was it just her way of saying thank your for bringing her to a delightful movie? While he was debating that she'd pulled his hand on to her groin. He blinked in surprise so let his hand ease over her pelvic bone and felt her thighs open. Then of course the damn movie ended with the house being burnt to the ground while the hero and heroine could be glimpsed through smoke naked and going at it like rabbits. She pushed his hand down a little bit and then pushed against it. Well, he thought, there was no turning back. He was in, providing he didn't upset her in any way. "That was so farcical it was genuinely funny," he said, taking her hand as they entered the aisle. "It was great, and helped make me horny. Thank you ever so much." Huh? Was she thanking him for taking her to a movie, or taking her to a movie she liked or for taking her to a movie she liked that had left her horny? Helene clarified that point. "Let's go home to bed - we can eat any old time." "Yes my princess," he replied with respect. "Your request to be shafted is granted. "Ooooh, you're so naughty," she giggled. "I'm minutes away from being shafted and feel so incredibly happy. Oh, don't forget to rate my nipples." "You have nipples?" he asked innocently, drawing amused stares from the people crowding them. Aware they were being overheard Helene dropped his hand and squeezed his ass cheek. Chapter 5 Ossie had been in this position once before, so on this occasion it seemed like slow motion action replay. In the elevator Helene stood against a wall, arms outstretched on the hand rail, tummy pushed forward with legs slightly spread - the classic stance of a woman in an elevator wanting to be kissed. So he kissed her and she pushed her bent leg straight in against his crotch. Ossie was feeling hot and in rising passion was prepared to give her anything she wanted. She pulled her leg away and in went her hand and encircled his thickness the best she could manage over his trousers. "Ohmigod I want this," she breathed hoarsely. The poor girl - it was possibly approaching a week since a guy had been granted visitation rights. Little wonder she was asking for it. "Wish granted," he wheezed as her lips opened and she sucked his invading tongue against hers and attempted to entwine them. This was scarcely the start to a near virginal romance. He'd be prepared to almost bet ten thousand bucks that for most of her adult life she would have screwed at least once a day. She was also a divorcee, straight out of marriage to that creep of a Mayor who reputedly had his dick unzipped 80% of the time he was awake. She was such a slut. He was too. Scarcely a day went by without one of his employees - er, females of course - coming on to him strongly and coming strongly as well, the two female photographers being the worst. When massage by ice blocks failed to work on hardening a model's nipples those photographers would call him in to feel up a boobs model and more often than not the model would come into his office afterwards to have him finish off what he'd started. He couldn't recall when he last went steady with any female - way back at high school days he believed. Oh he was such a slut. The elevator had stopped at the 32nd floor at least five minutes ago. Helene now had his shirt completely unbuttoned and was rubbing her lower body up and down his shaft while two of his fingers had flipped under the edge of her panties and were swirling around as deep as they could go. He sighed. "The security guys have us under surveillance, watching us live and will later tape a copy for the guys on subsequent shirts." "Ohmigod - my hair will be a mess," she said, pulling away to straighten his honey blonde curls. She was so gorgeous with really luscious lips. Imagine those around his dick, he groan almost let fly. "Come on - your bed or mine?" he asked. "Tonight mine" As soon as her apartment door shut Helene threw Ossie against the door, unzipped him and squatted. There was absolutely no need to tell her what to do. Helene brought him almost to the point of shooting before she'd ease off the pressure and when his ragged breathing normalized off she'd go again. Ossie counted five times and when she stood he was a shaking bundle of pent-up emotions of a man having being put under huge stress. She asked politely, "To bed and fuck?" "No, show 'em to me first. Come to the dining table." Helene kicked off her shoes and Ossie lifted her on to the table but before he could run the show she butted in and requested to be tongued her into orgasm. With that completed he sat on a chair and asked her to sit back on her legs and take off her top. * * * As Ossie's tongue had been circling her clit while two fingers were massaging her deep down towards the climax she so much wanted - Helene's mind drifted. Unbelievable it had been nine days since she'd last come. That occurred on her last night on that disappointing vacation to Nassau/Paradise where for most of the time she'd been lonely, traveling alone. She stretched pleasurably, wondering why Ossie was ignoring her breasts after all the fuss. Had he forgotten she had a pair she joked? She jerked and was away for the first time and smiled. The smile deepened when she became aware he was carrying on determinedly, obviously after a more impressive gusher in reward for his masterful drilling. She signed. He was okay and rather deceptive. On the street no one would pick him as being publisher of a slime-ball magazine called Nipples. God, some women on the street would be tempted to scratch out his eyeballs if they knew that. Men were so hopelessly mindless at times. Did women go around all day thinking of cock helmets and either yearning for such a visit by one or hoping there would be reasonable distance between the next visitation? Well she didn't know but right now was on edge waiting for his erection to go exploring - hopefully massaging her depths long and slowly. That thought together with what he was doing sent a wave of delicate vibrations through her that she dreamingly visualized as been like a sea surge dancing the seaweed on a tropical island reef. It was lovely having him on tap, keen to satisfy her sexually and perhaps interested in ensuring she was adequately satisfied in the ways she desired. From the feel she'd had it appeared robust and not too big thankfully. She grinned thinking of that look on his face in the elevator as his fingers slipped into her pussy- weren't men so foul! She almost came again. As her body began to tense and flush, Helene thought what now - after seducing her a few times would he be gone? Was that what she wanted? Well, as a matter-of-fact it wasn't. She'd already found him to be more than interesting and he'd have money, heaps of it probably. His phone went and he paused. God, he wasn't going to stop and answer it, not just as she was..." He pulled away and withdrew his fingers amid a huge squelch. That disgusting sound triggered her brain and she gushed. They both looked down at the little pool on the table. He grinned. "Sorry I missed that one, really sorry. Look, I think this is the call I have been expecting for almost two days from Germany." "Take it," she sighed, thinking she'd go to the bedroom and lock the door. As he scrambled around looking for his jacket he said, "Wait their darling for the unveiling." Unveiling? He expected a nonsensical unveiling after the erotic things he'd been engaged in with her? "Okay," she acquiesced. His call was short and sharp to the caller he named as Ulrich. She couldn't hear the caller. It appeared to be a good-natured haggle, very brief, with Ossie several times saying 'agreed' and then "Paris?" "Okay, my attorneys have an office there. Courier the papers and when we have finalized everything I'll see you in Paris." Ossie returned smiling although he'd lost half of his erection. But apparently he wasn't worried about that. Returning to his chair he asked with tenderness, "Please unveil for me." Ohmigod, she thought. That sounded like a King commanding an exclusive performance. She flushed and tingled with a feeling of great expectation, now aware of the depth of his fetish. This guy obviously adored great nipples on a well-molded surround, at least that's how she saw it. Her face now burned - she knew she had great nipples but he would have viewed the crème de crème. Nervously she unfastened the back buttons of her favorite top, knowing this unveiling as he'd called it would be over in seconds because she was without a bra. Her nervousness increased. Undoing the buttons meant her breasts were being pushed out straight towards him but his face didn't change from being flat, without expression. There was not a trace of lust or even a hopeful smile! Her fingers were now fumbling but she continued on gamely, expecting humiliation to be sweeping her within seconds. Chapter 6 Slow one-on-one unveilings were almost rated on a par by Ossie as having a powerful ejaculation under the fluttering controlled administration of muscular vaginal squeezing. It was akin to the lifetime search to find Eldorado, the ultimate treasure. But actually it was not a true fetish because, much like being in pursuit of a woman or the best restaurant ever, he could draw away from his fantasy and work and act normally and tune in to reality. He knew this was a bit ridiculous, expecting to find the ultimate in nipples attached to the chest of this desirable woman in front of him. It was simply based on a split second vision of having seen one of her nipples caught on camera quite some distance away and then muted and probably misshapen by the less than perfect copying electronic processes to be 'flashed' into his TV system and recorded. They would be great for sure, but the world's best? Most unlikely. At the same time he did not expect to totally disappointed. The top slipped down and there they were, great 'pointies' and Helene was looking at him anxiously. They were five-star, certainly and possibly edging into five-star-plus category but other women would line up ahead of her. He certainly was not disappointed. Ossie had no problem breaking into a great smile. "Oh Helene - they are so beautiful." She beamed and looked like the Goddess of Lighthouses. "They are not the greatest of the greatest as some virtually untouchable women possess but these are absolutely top class for a woman who can bear to offer he breasts to her guy for unrestrained sexual fulfillment." The power radiating from the Lighthouse increased and she was now showing teeth. "Suck them darling." That he did, almost with reverence. A couple of minutes later Helene lay on the table, lower legs resting on his shoulders and he pushed in and pulled back at slow and rhythmic pace and they both tingled, eyes locked. "This is so pleasurable," she smiled softly. "Oh, your blue eyes are now gray." "I believe they do that when my desires are restrained," he murmured. "Pick up the pace and let's get dirty," she crooned. He obliged, but first gathering her still attached and lurching through to the bedroom. * * * At the restaurant breakfasting and sitting hip to shoulder, he said: "About last night, that phone call." "Y-e-e-s. You hog - you left me fighting back a frustrated scream." "That call was very important to us." "Us?" "There is no one else around for you at the moment is there?" "No. But first I must..." "Tell me about the recent divorce. I read about it in the newspapers and on TV saw you coming from the Courthouse." "Yes, that too, but..." "That you've never worked, that you just relied on your beauty, body and slightly aloof personality." Stalking Miss Birtwhistle's Nipples "That's a direct quote from me published in the only magazine interview I've ever given - an international magazine based in New York." "I know, I read it. Your first marriage was at eighteen and that was over in months when you found the guy couldn't support you and your expensive tastes and wanted to put you out to work." "Yes, and another three marriages would follow to men capable of allowing me to live like a lady with expensive tastes. Two were great but taking up with the Mayor was a ghastly mistake." The waitress refilled their coffee cups. "That call last night was from the chief lawyer of a large publishing company in Germany. The company has agreed on a price to buy Nipples International Magazine from me and I'm not part of the deal." "Congratulations." "Thank you. What I am saying is now that I have my fortune may I ask that you take up with me?" "You mean marry you?" "If you want to bear children otherwise I'm open to negotiations." "Ohmigod, what can I say?" "I won't worry if you prefer breastfeeding. After all, that's the real purpose of nipples." Gurgling with embarrassment over the unexpectedness of such a thought from him, Helene pushed around on the seat of the booth to get a better look at him. "Ossie, we scarcely know one another." "Apart from absolute intimacy, that's true," he smiled, watching her flush spread. "So you want children too?" He nodded. "It would be lovely taking up with a man of similar age." He asked then wasn't that motivation enough and she confessed she needed time to think. "Why?" "I'm so overcome." "You showered after we finished this morning." Helene grimaced and said he was a horrible man and in the next instance fell against him laughing almost out of control. During the next few minutes Helene listened while Ossie outlined 'the plan'. The German company required Ossie to stay on for two months to ease his successor into the business. It had decided to leave the operation where it was based as part of its international expansion so most if not all existing staff would be retained, at least in the meantime. Ossie said he was very happy about that. "Ulrich, the guy I was talking with last night, figures we should have everything ready for signing within three weeks. What I suggest is you put me on trial and allow me to move in with you because your apartment is half as big again as mine. Then at the end of next week we go to Brisbane, Australia, where you'll meet my parents. By taking to my mother you'll learn all about me - you know how women just love to yak. We'll have a big of a look around and then fly to Paris and then back to base where I'll be working alongside my successor but I really think he or she will know everything and have been introduced to my prime contacts inside a month. Then we are free." "Very well. That suggests a slow immersion for me as well, which is good. What is the plan when you become free?" "By then we will have decided. I suggest a long and exotic vacation and then we look at going into business together to ensure we don't grow fat and bored." "A business - like launching Exotic Holidays/Vacations International Magazine?" "How did you know that was one of my thoughts, although that name may already be taken?" "Oh woman have little difficulty delving into the minds of men because there's so little there." "Cheeky bitch." "Oh, is that an Australian term?" He just smiled. "Take me home Ossie. My nipples indicate the urge to be licked."