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moments before.
“We need to get you focused on the product, don’t we?”
    Making sure she had his attention, Jeri let
the clip hover around her left nipple for several moments. Once she
was certain she had his attention, she let it snap down on the base
of her engorged and throbbing nipple. She cupped the full mound,
bobbing it up and down in one hand as if offering it to him. “Now,
think ‘gadgets.’”
    Marc’s eyes widened as he looked at the clamp
and the flattened red nub caught between its jaws. His lips
stretched into a wide smile. He slid his hand between hers and her
tit, then pumped his fingers watching the crimped nipple shift in
the clamp. “I’m not sure that it isn’t more distraction than
inspiration, but...”
    He stopped in mid-squeeze, his left eyebrow
rising. His smile broke into a wide grin. “Hold that pose!”
    Her breast bounced from his hand, and he
dashed out of the tiny study. He came back seconds later with his
Nikon. He adjusted the camera’s settings to macro mode while Jeri
looked on in amused confusion. He snapped off three fast shots of
the darkening nipple and its gleaming captor. Within moments, he
was reviewing the images on the playback screen, his grin even
wider than before. “Yes! Yes, that’s it! You’re a genius!”
    Jeri laughed and tugged the bag clamp from
her throbbing nipple. “I hate to burst your little bubble there,
hon’, but I don’t think tits are G-rated.” She worked on massaging
the tiny dents away. “Besides, people are supposed to notice the product , not the props.”
    Marc ran a short USB cord from inside the
camera to his laptop and pulled the pictures up. Jeri looked over
his shoulder as he did his Photoshop thing with them. After several
minutes, he leaned back in his chair and pointed at the monitor
with a satisfied smile. The image hadn’t changed much. Though he’d
sharpened the focus around the clamp a bit, centered in the monitor
was a professional looking photograph of a high-priced potato chip
bag clamp crushing an obviously cold or excited nipple and areola.
The catalog number, description, and price, all typed in a shadowed
script font across the bottom of the picture, were the only things
that suggested the person looking at the image was supposed to
ignore the nipple and buy the silly clamp.
    “It’s quite nice, for a fancy clamp on a tit.
Like I said, there’s the small matter of the nipple, sweetheart.
Don’t you see just a couple of problems there? Like...um…most of
your female consumers won’t appreciate the imagery, and these
products are definitely geared towards women; and there’s the whole
‘R-ratings don’t coincide with kitchen gadgets’ thing going.”
    Marc nodded affably, still smiling as he
removed a bit of glare and did a color fade that left the clamp and
flesh inside it full-color while gradually turning the rest of the
image black and white.
    Once he was satisfied, he looked up at her.
“How many kitchen gadgets on this planet are marketed at women,
hon’? All of them? Seems like kind of a glut to me. So, we change
the focus. Gear the ads toward men. Put them in men’s magazines and
some of the artsy reviews. It’ll be the first campaign of its kind.
Heck, the media attention alone will sell product by the
truckload.”
    Jeri opened her mouth to argue and then
closed it again. Instead, she kept rubbing her nipple and glanced
at the image again. Having seen the gleam in his eyes when he shot
the pictures, she wondered how wise it would be to let some blonde
bimbo model give him similar...professional opportunities.
    With a slight shrug she shifted her gaze back
to Marc and stuck her tits back in his face. “Use me and I’ll do it
for free.”
    Mark laughed as he dug a modeling contract
from his file drawer. “Sweetheart, those tits are definitely worth
full price. If this works, no one’s gonna say a word. If it
doesn’t, then we’ll sell the shots over the Internet to pay for
dinner.