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sensitive bit of flesh between her legs. And, oh God, that magical stuff had reached her G-spot as well. It felt like a hot, spicy tongue deep inside her. She felt wetness slide down her inner thighs.
    “This is going to be harder than I thought,” she admitted and stood up on shaking legs. “All in the name of hot sex, though, and”—she chuckled—“under the professional advice of my therapist.”
     Chloe reached between her legs to check that the silver cord was hanging down, and started at the sensation her own lube-smeared fingers gave her skin. Closing her eyes, she lifted one foot up to the boomerang table and brought both hands between her legs. The ball chain was there all right. Chloe rubbed it against her clit and moaned with delight at the sensations it brought. Those little metal balls slid over the hardened nub of her clitoris, and the chrome toy gave her a deliciously full feeling. Chloe thrust her hips against her slickened hand and gasped when she felt the tug of the nipple rings on her breasts. She slid her fingers over her tender folds of skin, slick and smooth from her recent Brazilian, and felt the urge to give in to her building excitement. Maybe I could get myself off right now…
    Experimenting a bit, she tugged on the egg’s chain until it was halfway out, held it there for one tight moment, then gave a strong Kegel squeeze to pull it back in. Aaaah, she sighed as it nestled back against her G-spot. Delicious tingles radiated from the chrome toy when she rotated her hips and felt it slide around within.
    I guess I should be a good girl and follow the doctor’s orders, Chloe realised reluctantly. She spied a box of Kleenex on Damien’s desk, a white laminate piece that looked like it belonged on the set of The Jetsons , and pulled out a few tissues. First she wiped her slippery hands dry then dried her dampened inner thighs. The bells between her tits tinkled as she moved, but Chloe tried to ignore them—along with the sweet ache of her sensitive nipples—as she tossed the crumpled tissues into a wastebasket.
    “All righty then,” she said as she strode purposefully towards the door. “Here we go.”
     
    * * * *
     
    The sounds of the bar had amplified since Chloe had entered Damien’s office. She walked unsteadily towards the packed dance floor. She was glad that she’d worn boots, as the ankle support helped hold her upright. Chloe approached the edge of the dance floor and took stock of the situation.
    Tingling, pleasantly pinched nipples? Check.
    Heavy, tight sensation in pussy from inserted toy? Check.
    Mass of writhing individuals to navigate through? Check.
    Let’s do this thing.
    Chloe stepped onto the smooth wooden floor and felt the music throb in her bones. Does it have to be so damn loud? she wondered. She worked her way around several couples and came upon two laughing young women. They appeared to be engaged in a contest to see who could squat down to the floor then rise up, slowly, while moving to the beat. Just looking at them made Chloe’s thighs burn in protest.
    With her eyes on the dancers with thighs of steel, Chloe failed to watch where she was going. She bumped into a solid wall and recoiled in alarm and embarrassment.
    Arnaud.
    The huge man grinned—his bright white smile shone from his dark face. Chloe’s jaw dropped open and she felt the chrome toy start to slide out. Clenching her muscles tightly, she clamped her thighs together and willed the sleek little metal egg to get back where it belonged. Once again, the heavy fullness from its insertion combined with the tingling pressure against her G-spot caused her to gasp with pleasure.
    And the hugely muscled, hot guy in front of her wasn’t helping any.
    Arnaud placed one hand on the small of her back and drew her to him, rolling his hips enticingly.
    Chloe let him pull her close. She swayed with him as the music pounded in her head. His black silk shirt was now open almost to his navel, exposing his