AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"A week is too long. I need the prototype approved this week, otherwise it won't make the production schedule." Tanya held out her hand, smooth and assured, and the prototype vanished into her grasp. "I'll take it home and review it myself."
"The test must be conducted here, in the lab." Vigo tapped the side of his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with a finger. "I need pure, unfiltered data."
A pause hung between them, charged like the air before a storm. Then, with a tilt of her head that suggested both resignation and intrigue, Tanya acquiesced. "All right, let's do this."
She approached the testing recliner—a throne of black leather and chrome—as if it were no more daunting than an office chair. With a fluidity that spoke of confidence, or perhaps reckless abandon, she hopped onto it.
Her skirt hugged her form. She was poised, a commanding presence in the company. Vigo saw not just the CEO of Kringle Company, but a woman who was about to experience the fruits of his labor firsthand. Yet as a scientist, Vigo's focus was torn between the aesthetics of the moment and the practicalities of the test. His mind buzzed with data, calculations, and potential outcomes.
He stepped forward, clipboard in hand, ready to jot down observations. Every response, every slight movement she made, would be crucial data. Yet, beneath the surface of his scientific demeanor, Vigo felt an uncharacteristic flutter of excitement. It wasn't just the success of the prototype that mattered to him now; it was also how Tanya would interact with it.
"Are you comfortable?" The question was twofold—part of the test, certainly, but also a subtle expression of his concern for her well-being.
She nodded, and he didn't miss the compression of her sleek jawline. The way her throat worked as she swallowed down any words she might have been prepared to say. Her chest rose, and he spied the side of a round mound peek through where her blouse was unbuttoned at the top.
Vigo's fingers hovered over the control panel. Just two buttons: on and off. And a slider that would dictate the speed of the intimate dance that was about to start. "Are you ready to begin?"
"By all means, Maestro, commence your concerto."
He pressed theOnbutton, initiating the prototype’s gentle hum. Data streamed across his monitors, graphs spiking in time with the silent rhythm of Tanya's pulse. Yet, it was the subtle shift in her expression that captivated him—fleeting and yet profoundly telling.
At some point, Vigo's pen stilled. The scratching gave way to silence, and then her low moans filled the room. He watched as her lower torso arched off the recliner. Her eyes widened and then closed. She yelped in surprise, as though the orgasm had been snatched from her. Then she lay panting and trembling in the seat with her eyes closed.
All Vigo could do was stare down at her in wonder.
CHAPTER3
TANYA
Tanya had been in a race car before. She'd dated a Nascar driver while in college. In the bedroom, he'd been as fast as his car. She'd gone around the track with him a few more times, but only because she'd liked his car. Now she had one just like it parked in the garage.
Vigo Ricci's vibrator went faster than the car. But it had hit every single curve as it got her to her destination in record speed.
Her muscles had tensed when Ricci's hands, clinical yet not without a trace of curiosity, slipped up her tight skirt to position the sleek prototype. She heard a snap of thread as she'd widened her knees to accommodate him. The calluses on his hands had surprised her. She'd thought him a nerd, but clearly, he got his hands dirty. As they retreated from the confines of her skirt, she knew he'd gotten some of her juices on them. She'd been wet since she'd agreed to review the device here in the lab with him.
Tanya was acutely aware of every breath, each tiny movement in the room thick with the scent of anticipation and something more—something like battle lines being drawn.
The click of the power button was deceptively soft, a whisper before the roar. The surge of sensation was immediate and relentless, an onslaught that had her back arching off the leather recliner. From zero to blinding pleasure in seconds flat, the machine showed no mercy, and neither did Vigo's watchful eyes, tracking each twitch of her expression.
Her pussy had registered the hum, like an engine revving at the start of a race. Her clit had sat up and taken notice of the checkered flags waving it into readiness. But as soon as the device was pressed to her mound, the gun went off. Both she and her clit had been holding on for dear life.
Halfway through the lap, her muscles had begun to twitch. With a quarter of the way left to go in the same very first lap, she was trying to hold the orgasm at bay. But it crossed the finished line before it had gone a fraction of the distance to complete the race.
A slow buildup to an orgasm was often felt deep in the core with long, pulsing chords of pleasure that lingered for long moments after. A quickie was shallower, with fluttery quivers that were over before they began. This orgasm, which could have only taken sixty seconds at most, was all of the above at the same time.
Her inner muscles clenched like a dish towel being wrung out while her labia were fluttering like butterfly wings. The shallow quivering lingered like aftershocks because the deep chords kept strumming along to a slow fade-out that still was humming along as Tanya opened her eyes.
That thing had gone from zero to a hundred in the first five seconds, and she was sure she'd seen Vigo set it to the lowest setting. It was taking Tanya longer to come down from the orgasm than it had to achieve it.
"God," she gasped out, the world narrowing down to the relentless hum between her thighs. The build-up was brutally quick, a crescendo that allowed no time for savoring, for teasing out the moment. It was ruthless, and it bowled her over with a force that left her breathless and bewildered in its wake.
Tanya lay there, panting, as the buzz of the vibrator receded into silence. Vigo stood motionless, pen poised above his notepad, his gaze analytical. "Well?" he prodded after a beat, his curiosity palpable.
"Christ, Ricci," Tanya managed, pushing herself up on quivering arms. "It was like being hit by a freight train. Effective, sure, but where's the journey? The buildup?"
"Good. Efficiency is key." Vigo scratched down some words on the pad. "You achieved climax in ninety-five seconds."
"It was too fast," she said.
